Tag: moment

River Richly Flowing

Life is a river richly flowing,
Freely teeming with people, nations, and happenings,
All mingled in Your Spirit’s purposes.
Past, present, future…mesh together because
Nothing limits Your hand at work.
You are our life.
You give us our very existence.
You pour through every moment, every molecule
With the power of Your love—
Sparkling with newness,
Brilliant with Your glory
Revealing every shadow of hidden darkness till it flees…
And the river flows on, full of us, brimming with You
Life is ever moving, ever changing, ever new,
Because, O LORD, of unfathomable, beyond-imaginable You!

This Time Around 12/23/2011

The year seems to fly by so fast anymore.
I wish sometimes that I could just yank on the reigns,
Stop the wild horses from dragging me along…
For me, savoring each moment takes extra effort of will.
Before I know it, I’ve missed
More moments than I’ve noticed.
The minutes, hours, and days, sneak by at top speed
Like the roadrunner zipping past the coyote.
Now I look around at my kids, nearly all grown,
My grandchild just born… almost three years ago,
Time is such a thief!
Yet, today is still today.
I cannot count the yesterdays.
This Christmas soon will be tomorrow’s history, but
I’ll not leap ahead in thought or the clock
Will catch up with me even faster.
A moment to treasure, with all its shortcomings,
Is better lived with passion than
Wished away for the next day’s pleasures.
I celebrate today with all the joy I can muster,
Finding contentment in the arms of my family.
We laugh together and anticipate the fun
Of watching each other open presents, devour food,
Or just sit quietly smiling in the midst of the
Wrapping paper storm that fills the living room.
Music saturates the atmosphere with the reminder—
Above all else the day belongs to Christ,
Who in the end gives us eternity to enjoy one another.
He breaks the bondage of time’s iron-sharpened passage.
By His very existence, He split time in two.
Soon time will end; eternity will take precedence again;
And the moments will stretch as long as we want them
Without fear of losing the things as precious
As the childhoods I have somehow missed
This time around.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Things seen or things unseen?

I Type On

My fingers meander over the keyboard leisurely
While my thoughts follow along…
Sometimes slowly…
Sometimes tripping over each other…
It doesn’t matter how, only that they do.
Meanwhile, my fingers keep wandering,
Wondering what will come next.
There are moments when it seems
These things just write themselves.
At other times, every word is a struggle.
Nevertheless, I write. I must write.

Occasionally it feels like
Compulsion rather than inspiration,
And I wonder why I bother doing it,
But the satisfaction in the end result
Is like a carrot on a stick,
Or a fresh baked cookie just out of the oven
Smelling sooooo… wonderful,
I can hardly wait to finish a piece
To get that taste of accomplishment.

On the other hand,
The pleasure in the process keeps me
Putting more words down on paper—
Well, at least figuratively anyway.
I like the gentle rhythm of speaking,
Because even when I say nothing out loud,
The words sound in my head
Like a speech or a song, or even…
(And here I laugh behind my hand)
…A poem!

Next project on my list:
Write a new poem,
And another,
And another…
Because I can’t “not write.?
Folding my hands and thoughts into stillness
Is very difficult for me.
So I’m content to let my fingers
Tap out random thoughts and words
For now.
Eventually they will shape themselves
Into some palatable form.
In the meantime,
I type on.

Fall Musings

The leaves crunch satisfactorily under my feet
As I plod steadily on in the chill wind,
Under the multihued grays in the sky overhead.
Fall moves forward in its relentless way
While I muse silently, slowly, ceaselessly…

Somehow, I want my mountains to move,
My crooked ways straight, my rough places smooth.
Some moments I am confident in my faith.
Some moments I tremble at the thought of tomorrow.
Some moments I wish the world could simply stop,
And let me catch my breath.

I cannot figure my way out or around or through.
I can only trod resolutely and blindly forward like Fall.
Every moment holds its own joy, its own grief, and
An unexplained fulfillment, a knowing that I can walk on
Through the demise of my little world surrounding me,
The restructuring of all I hold dear to my heart.

Each step brings its own inward satisfaction.
When the wind swirls wildly around me, and
The leaves fly uncontrollably chaotic,
Something in me still stands solidly
Reveling in the wildness of the turmoil,
Firmly rooted in His purposes.

In an odd way, I love the melancholy clouds overhead.
They transform the sky into a moving canvas
Painting itself into different images moment by moment.
So, I stand, staring upwards in awe and remember
The Master Painter designs in the skies,
And in my own heart as well.

I turn my attention earthward and trudge on knowing
It is Creator’s plan, ultimately for His glory,
That, regardless of cost or difficulty, I travel trustingly
Toward whatever goal He sets.

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