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.

Sacred Places

It's the obscure spot
on a winding
country road
where the body
broke
but the soul was
freed.

It's the bathroom floor
wet with tears
cried from a
broken spirit
who bows
her head
to a sovereign God.

It's a quiet porch
overlooking the beauty
of a yard with
tall trees worshiping.
It's the whispered caress
of God
in the breeze.

It's the heart of
a God-wrestler
pushing Him away
while still holding on tightly.
It's the exhausted embrace
of a God-pursuer
who has finally come back home.

A Story Of Two Girls

Two girls -
two thousand years a part
both asleep
with loved ones begging
for a miracle.

One girl -
dying of sickness,
the other one of
instant tragedy.
Both families
wait for healing.
Both wait
for the physician.

One family's hope
was dashed,
then astonishment filled
the room
as the girl got up and walked.

One family's hope
was stubborn,
until the pronoucement
was made
and the girl remained still
and beautifully broken.

Jesus came to both girls,
separated by two thousand years.
He took their hand in his
and told them,
"Little girl, get up."

One girl got up and
walked back into her family's arms,
back to her earthly life.

The other girl got up as well
and kept her hand in his
as he led her to the better life.

Mark 5:35-43
vs. 41 - He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" (which means, "Little girl, I say to you, get up!").

We love you.
Michelle L. Shoemaker Smoker
August 12, 1979-April 25, 2009

Rain

Rain~

so thorough and complete

consistent and straight forward

no pretense

rain like God's sorrow

pouring down

weeping with the ones

who weep

taking their pain

and making it his

grieving and aching

releasing and taking.

Thirsting

If spirits could storm
mine would be tearing
itself a part with lightning.
If hearts could dry up
mine would be
whithered and dirty.

I thirst for Living Water -
You hold it out to me.
I pretend I do not see you
and turn to walk away.

I drink the dust instead
and die a little bit more.
But still you're there,
inviting me in.