Come in under my shelter before you catch your death
Hide under my wing and find your breath
Don’t you know I’ll always fight for you?
I’ve loved you through all stages as you grew
There’s nothing you can do to make me pull away
In my heart of hearts, you’ll always stay
Have you eaten? Sit, rest your head
Drink from my cup and partake of my bread
You must be so tired, so completely worn out
Living in this land where love is a drought
Dear child, reprieve I give you this day
But know that I must send you back out on your way
The job I’ve given you, is my desire
That you go and pull them all from the fire
So rest child, breathe deep and wide
Know that strength for another day, I’ll provide
This poem was inspired at first to make you wonder if the writings were about a mother or God. That God cares for us so much as a mother does. I know we look to Him as a father, but there are some qualities I see in God that only a mom can do best (beside God, of course)
I wonder what it would be like to look upon Your face
Would Your features simply spell out grace?
I wonder what it would be like to held by You
Would it feel like something brand new?
To take Your nail scarred hand in mine
And bask in Your glory divine
Could I actually see Your glorious splendor
Make its way from Your feet to Your heart so tender
Would it sparkle and twinkle with every hue?
As it radiates all around, from You
Would Your light shine so bright that it would make a sound
Or would it be very quiet, so profound?
Would your voice boom as thunders roll?
Or would it sound like music written on an ancient scroll?
Where are You tonight as the world spins out of control?
Where are You as they all have forgotten their roles
Of sons and daughters of the Most High
I wonder if I could hear Your heart’s cry
Not for the 99 but the lost one
Oh Lord when will you come?
I have had this thought of writing about God’s splendor for over a year now. I’ve tried several times but I could never really find the words of what I see as splendor in my mind. This poem came out of it instead. What do you see or think when you’re asked to describe God’s splendor? Maybe if I get enough responses I could.put a poem together from them….
Happy Thanksgiving to you all. We made it safely to Tennessee. Our condo we rented is at 2,400 feet! I’ll try to get a few photos out to you. Remember your homework….what is splendor? How would you describe it?
Hi all. My gallbladder has been successfully removed! I went in a week ago Thursday. I wish I had another amazing story with the doctor praying for me but I don’t.
The bottom line of my blog has always been things I’ve learned from life’s lessons. That, ultimately, I want to always consistantly share with you all about how I am learning and changing; seeing God’s hand.
Being “put under” is a frightening experience up until they put the stuff in your IV to relax you before being wheeled into the operating room. Coming out of it was really hard for me. I came to in quite a bit of pain and extremely nauseated. A sweet nurse was there and helped me for a few hours coming out of it. I begged her to tell me if I did or said anything incriminating but she kept saying I behaved.
For lessons learned?
#1 If there ever is a next time I have to be operated on, I want to know what’s all going in the IV and what could possibly go in.
#2 What some may consider a piece of cake type surgery may have had time to forget the actual events of their own experience because as time fades, so does the memory of physical pain.
#3 I found out who cares about me enough to check on me, bring me flowers, help me dress.
One thing that kept ringing through my mind the day of the surgery and for the days of recovery, is those who have cancer or chronic serious illness. How do they do it? Repeated operations, needles, pain, mysterious “a little something to help you relax” being given to them through IVs. How can anyone deal with that? How could a child with cancer and on going treatments deal with that? The nervousness of it. The waiting. The recovery. The pain. The questions and worries that go unanswered.
Imagine those that endure that….without God. How does that work?
I have no answers on any of that. So maybe a lesson wasn’t learned there but a compassion was given and sparked inside of me.
We are off to Tennessee for Thanksgiving. I’ll try to get some pics out for you. I’m curious to see the mountains this time of the year.
Homeschool is good and Bible quizzing is underway. We have some great people involved and overseeing it. I’m excited for another year of it. The kids are memorizing Proverbs.
I’m still writing my memoir. I’m about 20,000 words in. I find myself avoiding it most days. I’m aware it’s there and I know what to write, so I don’t feel that hurry to get it wrote down before forgetting it. Lol…
2 weeks ago, across the street. Beautiful!Afghan I’m working on using only colors that leaves can beHubby got a deer last weekend.Peanut butter fudge! Comment for this easy recipe
This is a repost I stumbled upon from 2019 I wrote about Halloween…
I’ve been nominated by John at The Eclectic Contrarian for this challenge. He wants a scary story but I just can’t. But I did see this creepy thing in the pictures given to me and I immediately thought of the yucky demons that prowl. So here’s my say-so on Halloween…
The Lizard Man from the swamps of sunny South Carolina! It’n he cute?? He’s real ya know….
—John the Eclectic Contrarian
GIMMEE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN
Ghosts, goblins, glowing pumpkins shine bright
Spiders, skeletons, things that go bump in the night
One night you are given your reign
One night the masses go insane
Marching patio to doorstep bag in hand
Parents prodding, “Go get candy from the stranger’s hand.”
What do you tell a child as his candy shows up on the screen?
“We xray, honey because there are people so mean.”
Sweet little child dressed with white wings
But what about when they dress like these things?
Who gets the glory then?
We all know his name, Satan.
What if October 31 became a day all go to church?
Answers found, souls could call off their search
Instead of yelling Trick or Treat…
They could sing a new song to him who sits on heaven’s mercy seat!
Hi all. Life is good here. My husband is healing well. He got the stitches removed just today. He cannot pick up anything with his hand, yet. He can bend the fingers some. He cannot make a full fist, hard as he may try. And when he does try, he says he can feel the tendon move in his middle finger. Some of it fascinates him, while some of it is pure frustrating.
He is done taking the pain medication as of today and I’m glad. If you know my story, you know that I was an addict to pain medication twelve years ago. Each day around here, the fact there were pain pills in my house started to get under my nerves. See, I knew I would probably never walk in a bar in my life. I just know that. Along with chugging a bottle of this or that…not going to happen. I also always knew that a cigarette wouldn’t pass my lips ever again, as the eyes of my heart have been opened to the absurdity of smoking. I always felt the same about pain medication. If I can avoid major injury, surgery or whatever, I could avoid pain medication. But I forgot to take into account, what if someone in my home needed them?
Many of you may take them as needed. Many of you may have them in your cupboard right now. But here, no way, no thanks. Until a couple weeks ago.
He asked me to go pick up his prescription. To ask the old Amy to do such a thing was crazy because she would either beg you for some of them or she would steal them from you. The new me (thank God) didn’t think like that when asked…but I did still wonder if he checked the bottle when I brought it to him to make sure I didn’t take any of them. Old habit of worrying if people trust you or not. Comes with the territory, I would guess.
A couple days into it, there was a thought…what would it be like to take one? Say what??!! The thought came and it went quickly, but it left me rattled. I thought I was above this kind of thinking. Better wording would be I thought I was past that.
At the end of the day, it’s simple temptation and none of us are exempt from it. What makes me the new me and not the old me is that God provides a way of escape and I trusted Him and I’m all good.
On with the good stuff of life…we took the girls to the zoo. We took our time and read about the animals, which was nice. The other times we went when they were younger was more like a race…where I chased them around for two hours. Too grown up to sit on the turtle. Time fliesIsn’t she beautiful? God is such an awesome artistI’ve been wanting to share this afghan I made for our pastor. If you’re interested in making it Google Nordic stripes Afghan. Just finished this one for a friend…google The Study of Texture afghan.Wolly worm caterpillar…the wider the band of red in the middle of their “fur” the milder the winter. His name is Bozzy and he lived in a pencil case on our porch for an hour before his great escape…Hey! God even provides a way of escape for creepy crawlies!
Check this out y’all…so good. As you read, find the tempo, it’s quite calming.
I have a story to tell you It is hard to believe, but I swear it’s true I hardly believe it myself But it is a story I must tell You see just last night I saw shadows in the dark I swear it’s true, cross my heart I know you are thinking, “How can […]
Twelve years ago I gave birth to a child that would help save my life. Maybe I’m being a bit over dramatic in your eyes, but looking back I see how her presence helped change the trajectory of my path. I never intended to spoil her, if I did. I never intended to hurt her either, as while I was growing and maturing, she had front row seats to many of my tantrums and what not.
As she grew, I began to notice that she was a special kind of child. She was early on all of her milestones, as other children can be. But something about her made you feel special. The way she would want to connect with you. The way she loved was big. The way she would hurt was big too.
Mamy times I would wonder if I was seeing her as so different because she was my second child and my first child was autistic. There were many firsts with this child I didn’t get to experience with my oldest child. But that wasn’t it.
Abigail started to show an amazing ability to make everyone around her feel special. Like you’re the only one in the world she would choose to be around. It wasn’t just with other kids but adults and the elderly too. As a maturing mom, I would of course sometimes get jealous. I have had to learn to share her and let her fly. I also see how I may have been like her as a little girl myself had I not had so much trauma that kept me socially crippled.
And So it Begins, you ask. Adolescence. I have no idea how we’re going to get through it. I always figured that it wouldn’t happen to her. That she would muscle her way through it smiling all the way. I was wrong.
For now, I can still get her to open up to me and share with me. We have the long talks she needs that I longed for when I was her age. I want to spare her so much hurt. I have to realize my experiences aren’t the same as hers. She lives in totally opposite circumstances than I did. Nonetheless, I do have wisdom from the school of hard knocks that I can tap in to.
Abigail is her name. If you think of Abigail in the Bible, you think of the woman loading the gifts to bestow to help make peace. That is our Abigail.
My Abigail experienced rejection today. She was so excited to join the youth group at church. Nervous and excited, I should say. Now she is the younger one instead of the older girl of the little girls. Her youth group is the ages of 12 to 18. Today she was told she couldn’t join in their fun unless she was 13. A rule the kids made on their own at a non-church event. She showed them no emotion and she walked away. She did not try to beat down the walls of rejection and demand her place within the group. She said, if they don’t want me around then I don’t want to be around. I am proud of her for that. Although, the rejection hurt her deeply.
When I prayed for her I felt the Lord tell me to tell her how He was rejected in his own town among his own people. But mom. He was God, I don’t think it hurt Him the same. My answer…Jesus was God but he was man too. He wept when Lazarus died, I’m sure He hurt when he was rejected.
We sat up and talked for about an hour. She went to bed quietly with a smile and an I love you mom. But my heart remains heavy tonight. This won’t be the last time a peer hurts her.
My final thought is this. Can you imagine being twelve or thirteen years old in this day and age? Not only are they waking up to everything adolescence brings, they also have to listen to talk of the virus, the vaccines, the masks, stolen elections, and food shortages.
Makes you think, who cares about friends being mean and bullying, those talks were for the past. The talks with our children now should be strictly on making it to heaven.
I don’t know y’all, I pray my Abigail gets a chance to get beyond these speed bump years and go on to change the world as her personality seems to suggest that she could.
Butternut squash soup per Kathy’s recipe Her recipe says she adds more nutmeg… I did too. It’s like a desert and a main meal soup at the same time. Like candied yams. I put carrots and potatoes in it rather than chicken…but next time I’m making the base the same way and adding big chunks of sweet potatoes floating generously.
It’s a rainy yucky day here in Indiana and my heart is warm. God is so good to His people. Mike goes for surgery to repair tendons tomorrow. Say a prayer y’all.
A New Life 