A Prayer For The Start Of A Busy Day

Morning. Already.

A space for you. You take it all.
Awaken my sleepy spirit,
and make me be aware
at every frantic moment -
even if my thoughts don't say, "God,"
your presence is still there.
Breathe you in and breathe you out,
I pray those around
consume you second hand,
then take you deeper as their own.
And when we go home
to end our busy week,
lay our weary bodies down
and ease our minds to sleep.

You're The Tornado

Far away
I've kept you waiting
Hand held out
I've hesitated
You're too deep
in thickened mire
distractions ease
and digging tires
so I avoid you
and get lost in survival
I hardly hear
your whispered reminders
eventually you blur from view.

Far away
I sink down further
and what I ignore
never goes away.
You're the tornado that
kicks all the pain up
when all I want
is your sheltering wings.

Wretched - I make myself miserable.
Too many demands on me -
I revolt,
rebel.

Embittered - I feel sorry for myself.
Always in such a frenzy -
I lash out,
angered.

Overwhelmed - worried I'll drop the ball.
Tight fisted and grasping for control -
I am anxious,
afraid.

Along The Long Way

Flying solo in Red Lion.
Going loco in Red Lion.
Anxiety, fear, and doubt -
I need you, Lord
to help me out.
Tangible ways and detailed ways,
be my Hero and come through.
You always say,
"This too shall pass."
And in looking back
I will see how much I grew
along the long way.
But not before I pass through
the place where I may not see you.

Grey Saturday

Non-descript
echoing laughter
reaches me
through cold
winds

Clip clop
second hand
'round the clock
the needle
hops

heat through
the register
hums this little
house to
life

Grey day
this Saturday
waiting for
husband's slow
return

Coming Home

His arms ache to hold you.
He's been waiting for all time.
The moment has been planned for,
and so He calls you home.


What do you leave behind?
A tragedy, a cancer?
That moment fades away now.
And the one that opens up
finds you whole in the arms of Love.


Who do you leave to
mourn you?
Your love, your children, your friends.
Death is a sting that lingers -
but to Him it's one that sends.

Death sends you to His arms.
Death births you to new life.
Death brings you to the ones
who've gone before
and beckons to those left behind.

Psalm 116:15
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.

Snapshots

Fireflies and sparklers
running through the sprinklers
spending summer days
in Grandma's yard.

Homemade icecream
on the porch
creeking porch chair
back and forth.

Grandpa's boat
waiting outback
Grandma's hydrangeas
and birdbath.

Chincoteague
and Tom's Cove camping
going to the beach
or with Grandpa fishing.

Christmas Tree
with the pretty star
gifts underneath -
who are they for?

Spending precious
time together
making meomories
that last forever.

This is the heritage
she's left behind:
A strong sense of family
humor and wit -
love and pride.