Here’s something new. My bloggish buddy, The Excitement Plan, posted this poem with her own interpretation, which I thought was so very great that I asked if I could share her thoughts on my “Not My Poetry” place.
Hot, humid, it’s southern Missouri and the first official day of summer, so what else is new? I’m already a sweaty mess working in the yard, and the compost needs turning, so out comes the pitchfork (à la American Gothic) and the back muscles are put on notice.
It’s during this little exercise in semi-organic gardening that I observe a real surprise—two tomato plants growing, quite well I might add, to the side of my large, homemade compost bin, hidden between the garage and the fence line.
Huh?!? And they’re as large or larger than some of the ones I have growing now in my suped-up garden with my organic, sore-muscled compost mixed with expensive dirt that grows things “miraculously”, and is watered with our very, very expensive third-stage (whatever that is) city water! Continue reading “Hey, where’d YOU come from?!”
“When God began creating the heavens and the earth, the earth was a shapeless, chaotic mass, with the Spirit of God brooding over the dark vapors. Then God said, ‘Let there be light.’ And light appeared.”
Or how about:
“O Lord God! You have made the heavens and earth by your great power; nothing is too hard for you!” (Jeremiah 32:17)
So what do you think He could accomplish with your chaos…?
Cultural differences aside, Old Testament prophets were, um…a little weird. I say that respectfully, but I can only imagine they may not have been at the top of an invitation list to any aspiring social event. Things like walking around naked, burying underwear in the dirt (and retrieving it some time later!), marrying a prostitute, and a list of the bizarre continues—it certainly caught the people’s attention.
It would’ve caught my eye, to say the least.
Not respected, rarely believed, probably ridiculed, and usually hunted down, the job description was not for the faint of heart. Clearly, one was not chosen by Continue reading “No need for a boil order?”
I’m thinking that by this time, this guy Asaph was old; he’d seen a lot. As he pours out his heart to God, you can hear his pain and frustration and confusion. I love his raw yet respectful honesty before God. I also love how these verses so exquisitely illustrate what Satan tries to do in our lives today, and I mean the lives of Christians, dedicated believers in Jesus. After all, our hearts are now the Continue reading “Not My Poetry (but I still claim it!)”
Here is one for those of us who think that God still communicates in specifics to His own. And, man, do I need specifics! Just how do I apply this Bible verse? What am I supposed to say to this person in pain? I’m worried, confused, or just plain bored.
Please, somebody tell me I’m not alone here.
This beautifully refreshing offering by Sibella at Arts and Rhymes encourages me in that conversation. She is also a very talented visual artist. Be sure and check out her site!
On the wing
Of a crying eagle
On the rippling
Of the light within
Meant for you
And if not
You’re still glad
At the right place
At the right time
In your sight
And that makes you
And you even
As you look up
Here’s one I fell in love with, tucked away in a small used book I picked up somewhere. The author sounds like a pretty cool guy, not only because of the hopeful tenor of the poem, but that he was the assistant of one of my heroines, the one and only Florence Nightingale! (You can’t be all bad if you worked for Flo.) Here’s my INFO.
SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE
by Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-1861)
Say not the struggle naught availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke conceal’d,
Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!
But westward, look, the land is bright!
A Little Treasury of British Poetry, Ed. by Oscar Williams. ©1951 Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York
A new poet to my site (but it’s pretty obvious that she’s not a new poet!) Life throws us all kinds of curve balls, as well as the ones we clobber ourselves with. I like this offering from Spiritual Anxiety, as I think many of us can relate. But more importantly, the over-arching theme I see is hope.
Slowly wandering through the alley
Of darkness and fears,
And the sound of rain ,
Gently caressing my cheeks,
reminding of the comfort
Of being here and now,-
My blue lips inhale
The cold, poigant air,
Moving down my chest, clawing, as it flows.
But somwhat and how
It pulls me even deeper
Into this endless
I’m walking through the allley
Of broken promises and fears,
Towards the golden light i’m heading,
Sheading tears and crossing fields
It’s a long road ahead of me,
Through thunders and through the storms
But at the end of this alley
There is hope and there are dreams.
If God can bring good out of the crucifixion, He can bring good out of ANYTHING.