Wonder (poem); a letter for our children

| Poetry | Digital Art | PaintTool | Parenthood | Faith |

Our growing little sweetpeas,
There is wonder in your eyes.
It looks like coloured joyfulness
Reminiscent of butterflies.
Just as they, with timely readiness,
Emerge from beaded chrysalis;
The times you wait, hidden away,
Are not wasted but glorious.

You have purpose, you have calling;
God made you for this time.
And if you ever feel you’re falling,
Look up and grace you’ll find.
Yes, look up as Grandpa says,
Eternity is our home.
Each task and talent, blessing and bind
Is given to us on loan.

You are God’s child, loved perfectly,
Tethered to His heart.
There’s nothing that can take that away,
His love always surrounds.
This earth might deal you challenges,
Tears and admonition,
But no-one else can judge your heart;
So let God heal and fill it.

Your Grandma sees how all we have
Is worthy in God’s eyes.
Don’t be afraid to let Him
Turn your weaknesses to might.
Mummy too has seen first-hand
Our God’s transforming power.
It might be small, imperfect, unthought
Yet still God’s blessing can be brought.

If it seems that no-one cares,
If everything seems lacking;
Remember God does not forget
And He knows what is happening.
Daddy has many stories to tell,
Of unknown future blessings.
Trust God and trust His perfect timing,
He’ll surprise with testimony.

Many a person you will meet,
All with both goodness and flaws.
Have courage in Christ, speak graceful words,
Listen, build up and forgive.
Take time to pause in busyness,
Take time to sit and pray.
Talking with God will refresh mind and vision,
Remind us we are who He says.

Keep that wonder in your eyes,
That praises the Maker of all;
That looks at the vastness of sea and sky,
And remembers omniscient God.
Worship with unbridled honesty;
There’s nothing unknown to God.
Give up every emotion and uncertainty.
Just be nestled in His love.

All have fallen, all have sinned
But this is the greatest gift.
Grace, mercy and eternal life
Though Jesus, son of God.
These are the things we pass on to you
As you grow and live your lives.
The greatest protection, the key to joy,
Knowing and following Christ.

Linen, Lace and Grace (8 Years Married)

Eight years of marriage, two children, many adventures.

It has become harder to make an original anniversary themed dress and flowers, but we have managed to keep some subtle hints there in our annual photo. This year’s theme was ‘Linen and Lace’. We remembered buying our first sets of bed linen when married, and how we turned the old lace curtains in our first house into a range of different dresses. Post-babies, these dresses don’t fit me quite as well, but I was very happy to take this lace nightgown with me to hospital when we delivered our son earlier in the year.

We usually have a reflection of the year to go with our annual anniversary photo, but this year’s is a simple poem. If we look back at the last year, it is God’s grace that stands out to us. His grace, seen in the big and small parts of our lives, helps us grow together in marriage and as a family.

. . .

Grace, grace, grace

Grace, grace, grace
Upon our upturned lives
When work and conflict,
Joy and calm
Reveal the Heavenly face

Opened eyes to God’s delight
Opened hearts to understand
Not left alone
Not sinking sand
But faithful in the fight

Grace through words
And through our hands
Grace in coffee too
Grace in friends and family
Who give us strength to stand

When we fall, when in despair
With doubt and anguished shame
That grace is light
That pulls us up
And shows us that God cares

In our not knowing, in fatigue
In busyness and peace
Still grace is there
Providing us
With passage on God’s feet

Grace abounding
Uncontained
A waterfall of love
Engulfing and caressing us
Removing every stain

Grace and Wonder (poem)

I find myself marveling at the grace of God, seeing its beauty anew. His grace permeates through life, through nature, and through history. I want to capture and share the image of God’s grace that I see in our world, and while words will never be sufficient for this, I hope the following poem reflects some of its wonder.

.   .   .

How can I explain the hurting world,
The wounded soldiers burdened down?
How can I explain the miracles and hope,
The lonely, broken ones now found?

Only grace can lift up weary souls,
Let sinners dance, their chains released.
Only grace can comprehend our pains,
And offer everlasting peace.

Where death and sickness cast their net,
My God has given rest and let
The world advance in knowledge that can heal;
Lame man, pick up your mat.

Grace rushes on the breath
That sweeps anxiety away;
Grace leaps over the hurdles
Helps resilience to stay.

When once there was a garden
Filled with fruits and every creature,
A serpent whispered doubt and made
Adversity a feature.

Yet in His grace, the Lord has given
Life in every wonder;
Of dog and cat, and bird and fish,
The mammoth, and the flounder.

We don’t deserve such lovingkindness
Such gifts when we’ve betrayed
The Son of God, whose blood poured out
Prevailed over the grave.

Yet grace and mercy flow so freely
From this throne of love.
No one excluded, none apart
A choice is all we need to start.

I choose the Christ, the saving One
Whose grace I see abundant;
In stars and sun and servant heart,
In valley and on mountain.

How can I explain the grace of God,
So beautiful crafted;
But to praise and thank the One
In whose arms we are entrusted.

.   .   .

“For from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16)

The List (poem)

Tick, tick, tick
Done, to do and not yet.
Pick, and stick to it
It is no easy feat.

Priorities knocking
Rat-a-tat-tat;
Time is a ticking
There’s not enough of that.

Drip, drip, drip
Goes our energy tap.
Try not to slip,
But fatigue sets in.

Pray, look up,
Heavenly Father hears.
It’s not too late,
We can have a clean slate.

Wait on the Lord,
Have courage, don’t fear.
The list dwindles down,
Lost, and now found.

 

 

Living Reel (poem)

I blink an eye.
The black and white is now coloured.
Communication appears smaller,
But casts its net much wider.
Family is extended,
And close means something else.

I look around.
Faces are familiar but grown.
The stories accelerated,
Through arcs of achievement and angst.
Suddenly is all of a sudden,
And I wonder how we got here.

Back and forth.
The living room alternates its sepia tones.
This was once, now and to come in one.
I can imagine, but not comprehend;
Wonder, reminisce, be grateful,
Acknowledge the grace in time.

Man passes like a breath,
Yet God keeps careful watch.
Missed moments are stories for later retellings
Of falling, catching, loving, becoming.
I’m reassured that what I miss
He has waiting in eternity.

Too soon,
The clock is done, the pages filled,
Book cover falls flat in a heavy clap.
What will last and what will pass?
What will matter of the black and white?
Who will wipe away the dust?

 

The Lawyer – Morning Meets Work

THE LAWYER – Morning Meets Work   (Digital, 2016)

The lawyer wakes each morning,
To illuminated light.
Over city, house and heart it warms,
Anticipates day’s sight.

She has a little breakfast,
Picks up her purse and keys,
Then lifting up her face to Christ,
She falls upon her knees.

The lawyer knows the Lord is light,
She knows that He transforms,
Determined, she will shine her light,
In the surges and in the storms.

The lawyer knows the God who saves,
And in Him, has no fear.
Because the lawyer knows His face,
And even now draws near.

The workplace and the city,
Await the daylight force.
But some will stand apart that day,
Powered by a different source.

The lawyer, she is one of them,
For justice she will fight.
For the lawyer wakes each morning’s work,
In Christ, the Saviour’s light.

ANZAC (a poem)

The beach of Gallipoli lay starkly at ease,
As if unaware of this First World War.
Here eight thousand men, would soon find peace,
In death, while their countries mourned.

In 1914, only thirteen years young,
The nation, Australia, took arms.
With New Zealand men, the ANZACs were formed.
The Australian New Zealand Army Corps.

Then 25^th April in 1915,
After two days delay for the weather,
The ANZAC troops landed, keen for the fight,
But the Turkish were ready to parry.

The Ottomans fervently fought for their land,
For Constantinople was theirs.
While waves of young ANZACs fell band after band,
In blood-soaked grounds and deep trenches.

Eight months of the fighting were finally done,
In December that same year.
The Allies retreated from Gallipoli’s shores,
Where the water could well have been tears.

And ever since then, we stand to recall,
The men and the women at war.
The ones who were lost, and the ones who lost,
Yet bravely and proudly stood tall.

Lest we forget.