Hey man ain't you heard our God is good
Can he who is good give gifts
If we who are good can give gifts can't God too
So ask and you will receive
Can a man gift his child ,yes
So can god gift his kids, yes
Ask and you will receive
Grab a pen, and write
So you muck it up and it takes ages to get right
You screw up stuff and chuck it in the bin
Well hey man keep trying, failure ain't no sin
So have a go, start really slow
Read a psalm, then have a go
Write a verse or just one word
Let the faith in your heart make you start
Read a verse, what's on your heart
Write it out, a response to His word
Then you will find it's a natural thing
To praise His name with your everything
try...
Friday, 15 July 2011
An account of the cross
It is so dark here, darkness all around my soul. Such pain, such pain I can’t think. I ache, my muscles ache, they are so heavy, I am so tired. So weary, I’m so weary, it’s coming again, the pain. I close my eyes as the pain hits me again, its like a huge wave it crushes me, the pain becomes so strong I am drowned; I can’t see. I can’t breathe. My chest is crushed; there is no air to breathe.
I open my dried lips, they crack as I try to gasp for breath, blood trickles down my chin. I have a thirst for water but all I receive is dust. It hits my mouth with such a force that it sticks to my tongue. My tongue feels rough and dry, I try to swallow the dust away but I am too dry. The dust remains, taunting me. I can feel my head turning around inside me. I need water.
I feel faint, I struggle to see. I feel so dizzy, so sick. I try to swallow, to take a breath, to live but I can not. I am hanging here on this tree, my limbs are so heavy now, and my lungs hang empty as all the air is pushed out. They scream out at me demanding air as I struggle to breathe. I want this pain to end but it is not time yet.
My head pounds inside my ears, like roars of thunder. The pain dulls my sight but my brain is still alive, it is so sensitive now. I can feel it all. My head feels like it is going to explode; the pain is so strong. It overtakes my thinking, I am lost.
The wind starts to blow again. A new pain begins. A hot searing pain as my crown of thorns moves in the breeze. Sharp penetrating pain seeps into my skull as the pin pricks of the thorns stab my flesh.
A new burning pain attacks the nerves in my face and neck. My hair stands on end and my face starts to twitch, shivers start to run across my head and cascade down the length of my spine. The shock of this new pain sends spasms throughout the length of my body. The nails in my limbs burn my skin with the force of the convulsions. I shiver in shock waiting for it to abate. The spasms seem to slow, I feel some relief, but it is short lived. New spasms of pain hit me again, this time they are stronger, my whole body moves uncontrollably. I can do nothing to control them. I am helpless.
My back arches, and my muscles tense suddenly as the nails seem to be pushed even harder into my flesh. My muscles tear, it burns me. My hands shake violently as the pain burns again. It is unbearable. My hands and wrists feel strangely cold, the blood has gone. They feel numb no longer a part of me and I find I can not move them willingly, yet my fingers they shake in shock.
My legs feel cold now, my knees seem to be numb from the blood loss, yet I am aware of the hairs on my knees and calves, they are standing to attention.
My lungs scream at me again from within this time I need to move to continue to live. My ankles start to burn and my flesh tears again as I struggle to put all my weight on the nail. I gasp for breath.
The air reaches my lungs but they sting in response, I find no relief. The pain in my wrists has increased now as I try to hold myself in this upright position to breathe.
Tears well up in my eyes ready to cry, but my eyes sting from the wind; I can not cry to relieve their dryness. I close them instead to try to find some peace but my lids feel hot against my skin. Pain travels up from my eyes, across my forehead to meet with the pain already searing in my mind. My head is throbbing with pain, I can hold this position no longer I lose consciousness briefly as my body sags against the tree.
I am aware that the wind has gone away but I feel no relief, I am left with no strength to face the next pain. It hits me suddenly and unexpectantly. My ears are full of the noise of my pain, that continually thunders inside my mind yet suddenly I am aware that I am not deaf. They start to shout at me; the people at the cross. This new pain crushes my heart. Emotions rage inside my soul as I hear them. They want me to do something, to come down; to save myself. I try to ignore them, but their shouts are so strong that I can not shut them out.
I feel such pity for them, they do not understand. They are so lost, sheep without a shepherd. They are doomed to die if I weaken.
I open my eyes to watch them, one of my disciples is pushed aside he is a broken soul. I can feel his pain on my heart. In his despair he runs blindly away. He was brave to come, the others are hidden way, cowering frightened by the wolves of satan. I can feel their pain too; they are attached to me like part of the vine. I can not escape their pain.
My mother is here, she is broken inside but she is different to them, she has a sense of peace in her spirit, I sense her faith, but she is unaware of the Holy Spirit who is strengthening her. Her heart is broken and she is crying in despair. I envy her for his company, for he has left me totally alone. My very soul that still cries out to God is ignored. I am alone. It must be this way I know, but it has left a longing inside that is eating at me. I can not escape this pain it will always be there for those that are lost.
My soul is empty of comfort and I am now fully aware of a new fear; the fear of death. I cry out to my father in the depth of my fear.
A new physical emptiness comes into my awareness. My stomach churns, I am hungry. The hollowness of my stomach seems to suck the whole of my body inside. Hunger pains start to well up they increase in strength until I feel sick. I want to vomit but can not. I feel like my stomach in its desperation for food is starting to eat away at my flesh inside. I can do nothing, I feel so weak now. I have no strength left in me. I can not seem to ignore this basic need. Starving I hang from this tree. I need to feed, I need strength.
I look at them down there in their brokenness, my children. I feel a joy inside my soul; it carries me suddenly feeding me with their love. I feel refreshed and I thank my father for his unexpected provision. My children love me, they are part of me and I draw my strength from them. Little do they know that they are helping me. They can only see my pain. It tears them apart. I feel a new wave of emotional pain as I watch them. I can only accept it; I can not detach myself from them. We are one, we suffer together.
Darkness is starting to fall over this land now; many people have left us here. Suddenly satan comes nearer, he can sense I am close to death. He has been here all along but he becomes braver as he watches me in my physical weakness. He was afraid to come near before but I have heard his whispers in my soul as he has constantly tried to weaken me. I would not listen to him then and now, in his desperation he stirs the spirit of the thief next to me who starts to shout abuse at me. I can feel this mans hatred for me. It hits me, a new emotional pain. My heart aches in love for him, I know he is doomed. I try to hide from his shouts unwilling to engage in satan’s game. I will not give him the satisfaction he desires.
A shout of support surprises me. I am vindicated by a man who has judged me as innocent. I struggle to turn my head towards him. This causes my eyes to know darkness as a new pain takes away my sight. I am blind. I sag against the tree again broken. The deep pain in my head seems to shift slightly, my eyes start to clear. I look to this new man and feel his hope inside him as a new faith stirs within. I answer him briefly, a promise, I can do no more. The spirit will have to comfort him in his last moments.
I sense that my work here is almost done. I look to my mother and to John they seem to come forward, a Roman soldier glances at me; he sees I am almost dead. As they come towards me, I force my mouth to speak. It takes all my strength to say what is needed, but I am freed at last all my burdens are done. My mother will be cared for now. I look at them one last time a parting glance. As I go I speak my end. The darkness comes upon me as I leave.
It is so bright now, I can not bear it. I am curled up in a ball. I can not move. I see him die, the thief. I cry as his spirit is taken down to that dark place. I can do nothing to save him it is my fathers will. I watch again, the second thief is dying. He is not alone, the spirit is around him. He is carried home. He is taken to the angels, they minister to him and he is made well.
They take him to his new home by the shore. I can sense his delight as he see’s it for the first time. It is a boat, he has always wanted one. He could never afford to buy one it was out of his reach. The angels take him aboard but he does want to go, he wants to see me. The angels tell him he will but he needs to rest first, they explain that I am with my Father.
The spirit joins us, we become one again. I am here with my Father; I curl up on his chest as he ministers to me. I need rest too, my emotions are in turmoil. My spirit and my Father join together in me; they start to gently restore me to fullness. I need to be close to them for a short while now. I sense my Father’s tears as he ministers his healing to me.
We become one. I am one, we are one.
“For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16
I open my dried lips, they crack as I try to gasp for breath, blood trickles down my chin. I have a thirst for water but all I receive is dust. It hits my mouth with such a force that it sticks to my tongue. My tongue feels rough and dry, I try to swallow the dust away but I am too dry. The dust remains, taunting me. I can feel my head turning around inside me. I need water.
I feel faint, I struggle to see. I feel so dizzy, so sick. I try to swallow, to take a breath, to live but I can not. I am hanging here on this tree, my limbs are so heavy now, and my lungs hang empty as all the air is pushed out. They scream out at me demanding air as I struggle to breathe. I want this pain to end but it is not time yet.
My head pounds inside my ears, like roars of thunder. The pain dulls my sight but my brain is still alive, it is so sensitive now. I can feel it all. My head feels like it is going to explode; the pain is so strong. It overtakes my thinking, I am lost.
The wind starts to blow again. A new pain begins. A hot searing pain as my crown of thorns moves in the breeze. Sharp penetrating pain seeps into my skull as the pin pricks of the thorns stab my flesh.
A new burning pain attacks the nerves in my face and neck. My hair stands on end and my face starts to twitch, shivers start to run across my head and cascade down the length of my spine. The shock of this new pain sends spasms throughout the length of my body. The nails in my limbs burn my skin with the force of the convulsions. I shiver in shock waiting for it to abate. The spasms seem to slow, I feel some relief, but it is short lived. New spasms of pain hit me again, this time they are stronger, my whole body moves uncontrollably. I can do nothing to control them. I am helpless.
My back arches, and my muscles tense suddenly as the nails seem to be pushed even harder into my flesh. My muscles tear, it burns me. My hands shake violently as the pain burns again. It is unbearable. My hands and wrists feel strangely cold, the blood has gone. They feel numb no longer a part of me and I find I can not move them willingly, yet my fingers they shake in shock.
My legs feel cold now, my knees seem to be numb from the blood loss, yet I am aware of the hairs on my knees and calves, they are standing to attention.
My lungs scream at me again from within this time I need to move to continue to live. My ankles start to burn and my flesh tears again as I struggle to put all my weight on the nail. I gasp for breath.
The air reaches my lungs but they sting in response, I find no relief. The pain in my wrists has increased now as I try to hold myself in this upright position to breathe.
Tears well up in my eyes ready to cry, but my eyes sting from the wind; I can not cry to relieve their dryness. I close them instead to try to find some peace but my lids feel hot against my skin. Pain travels up from my eyes, across my forehead to meet with the pain already searing in my mind. My head is throbbing with pain, I can hold this position no longer I lose consciousness briefly as my body sags against the tree.
I am aware that the wind has gone away but I feel no relief, I am left with no strength to face the next pain. It hits me suddenly and unexpectantly. My ears are full of the noise of my pain, that continually thunders inside my mind yet suddenly I am aware that I am not deaf. They start to shout at me; the people at the cross. This new pain crushes my heart. Emotions rage inside my soul as I hear them. They want me to do something, to come down; to save myself. I try to ignore them, but their shouts are so strong that I can not shut them out.
I feel such pity for them, they do not understand. They are so lost, sheep without a shepherd. They are doomed to die if I weaken.
I open my eyes to watch them, one of my disciples is pushed aside he is a broken soul. I can feel his pain on my heart. In his despair he runs blindly away. He was brave to come, the others are hidden way, cowering frightened by the wolves of satan. I can feel their pain too; they are attached to me like part of the vine. I can not escape their pain.
My mother is here, she is broken inside but she is different to them, she has a sense of peace in her spirit, I sense her faith, but she is unaware of the Holy Spirit who is strengthening her. Her heart is broken and she is crying in despair. I envy her for his company, for he has left me totally alone. My very soul that still cries out to God is ignored. I am alone. It must be this way I know, but it has left a longing inside that is eating at me. I can not escape this pain it will always be there for those that are lost.
My soul is empty of comfort and I am now fully aware of a new fear; the fear of death. I cry out to my father in the depth of my fear.
A new physical emptiness comes into my awareness. My stomach churns, I am hungry. The hollowness of my stomach seems to suck the whole of my body inside. Hunger pains start to well up they increase in strength until I feel sick. I want to vomit but can not. I feel like my stomach in its desperation for food is starting to eat away at my flesh inside. I can do nothing, I feel so weak now. I have no strength left in me. I can not seem to ignore this basic need. Starving I hang from this tree. I need to feed, I need strength.
I look at them down there in their brokenness, my children. I feel a joy inside my soul; it carries me suddenly feeding me with their love. I feel refreshed and I thank my father for his unexpected provision. My children love me, they are part of me and I draw my strength from them. Little do they know that they are helping me. They can only see my pain. It tears them apart. I feel a new wave of emotional pain as I watch them. I can only accept it; I can not detach myself from them. We are one, we suffer together.
Darkness is starting to fall over this land now; many people have left us here. Suddenly satan comes nearer, he can sense I am close to death. He has been here all along but he becomes braver as he watches me in my physical weakness. He was afraid to come near before but I have heard his whispers in my soul as he has constantly tried to weaken me. I would not listen to him then and now, in his desperation he stirs the spirit of the thief next to me who starts to shout abuse at me. I can feel this mans hatred for me. It hits me, a new emotional pain. My heart aches in love for him, I know he is doomed. I try to hide from his shouts unwilling to engage in satan’s game. I will not give him the satisfaction he desires.
A shout of support surprises me. I am vindicated by a man who has judged me as innocent. I struggle to turn my head towards him. This causes my eyes to know darkness as a new pain takes away my sight. I am blind. I sag against the tree again broken. The deep pain in my head seems to shift slightly, my eyes start to clear. I look to this new man and feel his hope inside him as a new faith stirs within. I answer him briefly, a promise, I can do no more. The spirit will have to comfort him in his last moments.
I sense that my work here is almost done. I look to my mother and to John they seem to come forward, a Roman soldier glances at me; he sees I am almost dead. As they come towards me, I force my mouth to speak. It takes all my strength to say what is needed, but I am freed at last all my burdens are done. My mother will be cared for now. I look at them one last time a parting glance. As I go I speak my end. The darkness comes upon me as I leave.
It is so bright now, I can not bear it. I am curled up in a ball. I can not move. I see him die, the thief. I cry as his spirit is taken down to that dark place. I can do nothing to save him it is my fathers will. I watch again, the second thief is dying. He is not alone, the spirit is around him. He is carried home. He is taken to the angels, they minister to him and he is made well.
They take him to his new home by the shore. I can sense his delight as he see’s it for the first time. It is a boat, he has always wanted one. He could never afford to buy one it was out of his reach. The angels take him aboard but he does want to go, he wants to see me. The angels tell him he will but he needs to rest first, they explain that I am with my Father.
The spirit joins us, we become one again. I am here with my Father; I curl up on his chest as he ministers to me. I need rest too, my emotions are in turmoil. My spirit and my Father join together in me; they start to gently restore me to fullness. I need to be close to them for a short while now. I sense my Father’s tears as he ministers his healing to me.
We become one. I am one, we are one.
“For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16
Thursday, 14 July 2011
When the sun came out in the middle of the night
I can remember lying in my bed and watching clock as the minutes counted in the hours many times in my life, I hadn’t realised how precious that time was. I would often use this sleepless time to think or write stories in my mind, but I found the best way to shorten those hours, the longest hours in my life was to pray.
On some nights I would pray silently at my husbands side, he would snore unaware of my consciousness. I remember trying to roll him over to stop his snoring disturbing my concentration. On some nights it would work beautifully and he would almost turn himself as I applied pressure to his back. Then the night would be silent and I could pray. Other nights I would leave my bed and go to the lounge and pray aloud, sometimes I would sing in tongues, or put the stereo on and dance until dawn.
There were times in my life when circumstances, like pregnancy forced me to get up several times and visit the toilet. I remember with my daughter I often felt quite scared at the thought of giving birth, and would lie awake for hours worrying.
When I was carrying my son, it was different, I was then a new Christian, and I used to pray and then eventually sleep. I remember that during the night even years later when my children were adults, I would still lie awake, worrying about them as they made their own way in the world, but prayer always came to my rescue and even if I laid awake for the majority of the night, in prayer, I would then wake up feeling refreshed. It used to amaze my husband that I looked, so pretty as he said once, considering I had not slept.
He could never grasp the concept of God, and I felt so sad for him. I prayed. Of course I did, but his mind was closed. Padlocked shut. We had had many discussions over the years, and not just me, friends from church had tried to reach him too, but now after many years of anguish I finally realised that God alone will call him, when he is ready. I still prayed of course, right up until the end.
Thankfully all of our children were saved, they grew up with Christ, so it was a natural process for them. I can remember smiling as they could not comprehend that I had spent the first thirty odd years of my life unaware of Jesus. They saw their father of course and had spoken to him many times, but he had always remained on his side of the fence, so no ground had been conquered there. Even when the signs of Jesus's return began to start happening in the world, like September 11th, then floods, famine, earthquakes, Tsunami’s and the many wars, the signs only seemed to fuel his argument that there was not a God, because of the disruption and the deaths, despite us actually reading out some of the bible to him and trying to explain why. Evolution remained his favourite solution, but even though his explanations seemed floorless at times, still he stuck with them.
I remember one of my closest friends had said to me that he might change on his deathbed. I argued that you could not possibly know when you were going to die unless you were ill, and even then the doctors would not always tell you. My friend had smiled patiently at me and said, God will decide whether or not to call him just be patient. I considered his words carefully and started to watch for signs in my husband, as we were not getting any younger, to see it he was being gently touched by God. At first I couldn't see any, but one day he said something out of character, and then I realised that God was with him, even if he wasn't aware of it yet. I continued to watch him until I couldn't anymore, my pain became too much I needed to go to hospital.
The doctors were very kind to me, they said I would recover, but I knew that it was time for me to go. My friend was right. I was suddenly aware that God was calling me home. Although I was happy to leave this life with my children and my grandchildren behind, I could not find peace about my husband. So I laid wake for many hours, and many nights until the final night.
The final night wasn't any different from the others, I changed for bed, cleaned my teeth and kissed my husband good night. Of course now I needed to take my medicine as well, to ease my pain, but I was used to it. As my husband slept I prayed, silently. I could no longer get out of bed and go downstairs, since it was too much for me. I longed to dance again, but my body just wasn't up to it. It was an effort to walk, and I hated using the frame. It made me feel so old, yet inside I still felt like a child; a free spirit in love as I did when I had found Jesus for the first time.
The minutes on the clock counted the hours away, but now I could not see them, my sight having failed as part of my illness. I prayed as usual, and the Lord was with me. I could feel his touch in my heart. Then I could feel his presence in the room. My whole body seemed to be filled with light somehow. I remember wondering if my husband could see it, but he was asleep, I could hear him snore.
Suddenly the brightness came again very gently at first, I was given time to adjust I think, then brighter still the light came, then I wanted to reach out to my husband I felt such love, it was strange I realised that my whole body was surrounded in light. I tried to reach outside of the light, but the light came with me. I struggled and managed to sit up, feeling very peaceful. I can remember leaning over to him and whispering, "I love you" I said, goodbye.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as the light came into the room. "Lord", I whispered "please don't leave him behind". A feeling of peace and love suddenly seemed to overwhelm me, I was drowning. I could taste my own salty tears on my lips, yet my heart was leaping inside, I was so much alive. I felt so young again.
I can remember years ago when I saw him for the first time, my husband, we were so young, so in love, over the years we were still in love, but the early awareness of each other had sadly faded over time. I picked up my sheet and wiped the tears from my face. Oh how I wished at that moment that I had done more to reach him. The Lord touched me again, it was wonderful, this time he healed me and I looked down at my body it looked so young. I could move with out pain, I could see “Oh Lord I can see!”
Suddenly I laughed and got out of bed. I danced around the room caught in his love. There seemed to be a tunnel of sunlight that came into the room, where the window had been, it felt wonderful to feel the sun on my skin. As I danced towards the tunnel I could feel warmth like a summers day. I wanted to run to go straight away. For one last second I looked at my husbands sleeping form. Then I froze.
Next to my husband I was there sitting up. I knew that it was my old body, but it looked so young. I had to go over and take a closer look. I looked as I had when I had first met my husband. I knew he would finally see the truth of God. He could not ignore the evidence that the Lord had placed before him. I cried again, at the Lords answer to my prayers, this time my tears poured out with great relief, I feel peace like I had never experienced in my life. I looked towards the tunnel, it was time to go.
I walked around the bed and kissed my husband for the final time. Then I walked in the light, then I ran, and ran. It was like running into a lovers arms, one that you hadn't see for such a long time. A lover who stood across the room from you, you wanted to touch him but you couldn't. My tears soaked his clothes, the Lord's arms gathered me up and I let go. My emotions ran riot. My tears became a stream, until finally there were no tears left. His eyes looked at mine so tenderly and I smiled shyly.
"My treasure" he said, "Welcome home."
But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ
1 Corinthians 15:57
On some nights I would pray silently at my husbands side, he would snore unaware of my consciousness. I remember trying to roll him over to stop his snoring disturbing my concentration. On some nights it would work beautifully and he would almost turn himself as I applied pressure to his back. Then the night would be silent and I could pray. Other nights I would leave my bed and go to the lounge and pray aloud, sometimes I would sing in tongues, or put the stereo on and dance until dawn.
There were times in my life when circumstances, like pregnancy forced me to get up several times and visit the toilet. I remember with my daughter I often felt quite scared at the thought of giving birth, and would lie awake for hours worrying.
When I was carrying my son, it was different, I was then a new Christian, and I used to pray and then eventually sleep. I remember that during the night even years later when my children were adults, I would still lie awake, worrying about them as they made their own way in the world, but prayer always came to my rescue and even if I laid awake for the majority of the night, in prayer, I would then wake up feeling refreshed. It used to amaze my husband that I looked, so pretty as he said once, considering I had not slept.
He could never grasp the concept of God, and I felt so sad for him. I prayed. Of course I did, but his mind was closed. Padlocked shut. We had had many discussions over the years, and not just me, friends from church had tried to reach him too, but now after many years of anguish I finally realised that God alone will call him, when he is ready. I still prayed of course, right up until the end.
Thankfully all of our children were saved, they grew up with Christ, so it was a natural process for them. I can remember smiling as they could not comprehend that I had spent the first thirty odd years of my life unaware of Jesus. They saw their father of course and had spoken to him many times, but he had always remained on his side of the fence, so no ground had been conquered there. Even when the signs of Jesus's return began to start happening in the world, like September 11th, then floods, famine, earthquakes, Tsunami’s and the many wars, the signs only seemed to fuel his argument that there was not a God, because of the disruption and the deaths, despite us actually reading out some of the bible to him and trying to explain why. Evolution remained his favourite solution, but even though his explanations seemed floorless at times, still he stuck with them.
I remember one of my closest friends had said to me that he might change on his deathbed. I argued that you could not possibly know when you were going to die unless you were ill, and even then the doctors would not always tell you. My friend had smiled patiently at me and said, God will decide whether or not to call him just be patient. I considered his words carefully and started to watch for signs in my husband, as we were not getting any younger, to see it he was being gently touched by God. At first I couldn't see any, but one day he said something out of character, and then I realised that God was with him, even if he wasn't aware of it yet. I continued to watch him until I couldn't anymore, my pain became too much I needed to go to hospital.
The doctors were very kind to me, they said I would recover, but I knew that it was time for me to go. My friend was right. I was suddenly aware that God was calling me home. Although I was happy to leave this life with my children and my grandchildren behind, I could not find peace about my husband. So I laid wake for many hours, and many nights until the final night.
The final night wasn't any different from the others, I changed for bed, cleaned my teeth and kissed my husband good night. Of course now I needed to take my medicine as well, to ease my pain, but I was used to it. As my husband slept I prayed, silently. I could no longer get out of bed and go downstairs, since it was too much for me. I longed to dance again, but my body just wasn't up to it. It was an effort to walk, and I hated using the frame. It made me feel so old, yet inside I still felt like a child; a free spirit in love as I did when I had found Jesus for the first time.
The minutes on the clock counted the hours away, but now I could not see them, my sight having failed as part of my illness. I prayed as usual, and the Lord was with me. I could feel his touch in my heart. Then I could feel his presence in the room. My whole body seemed to be filled with light somehow. I remember wondering if my husband could see it, but he was asleep, I could hear him snore.
Suddenly the brightness came again very gently at first, I was given time to adjust I think, then brighter still the light came, then I wanted to reach out to my husband I felt such love, it was strange I realised that my whole body was surrounded in light. I tried to reach outside of the light, but the light came with me. I struggled and managed to sit up, feeling very peaceful. I can remember leaning over to him and whispering, "I love you" I said, goodbye.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as the light came into the room. "Lord", I whispered "please don't leave him behind". A feeling of peace and love suddenly seemed to overwhelm me, I was drowning. I could taste my own salty tears on my lips, yet my heart was leaping inside, I was so much alive. I felt so young again.
I can remember years ago when I saw him for the first time, my husband, we were so young, so in love, over the years we were still in love, but the early awareness of each other had sadly faded over time. I picked up my sheet and wiped the tears from my face. Oh how I wished at that moment that I had done more to reach him. The Lord touched me again, it was wonderful, this time he healed me and I looked down at my body it looked so young. I could move with out pain, I could see “Oh Lord I can see!”
Suddenly I laughed and got out of bed. I danced around the room caught in his love. There seemed to be a tunnel of sunlight that came into the room, where the window had been, it felt wonderful to feel the sun on my skin. As I danced towards the tunnel I could feel warmth like a summers day. I wanted to run to go straight away. For one last second I looked at my husbands sleeping form. Then I froze.
Next to my husband I was there sitting up. I knew that it was my old body, but it looked so young. I had to go over and take a closer look. I looked as I had when I had first met my husband. I knew he would finally see the truth of God. He could not ignore the evidence that the Lord had placed before him. I cried again, at the Lords answer to my prayers, this time my tears poured out with great relief, I feel peace like I had never experienced in my life. I looked towards the tunnel, it was time to go.
I walked around the bed and kissed my husband for the final time. Then I walked in the light, then I ran, and ran. It was like running into a lovers arms, one that you hadn't see for such a long time. A lover who stood across the room from you, you wanted to touch him but you couldn't. My tears soaked his clothes, the Lord's arms gathered me up and I let go. My emotions ran riot. My tears became a stream, until finally there were no tears left. His eyes looked at mine so tenderly and I smiled shyly.
"My treasure" he said, "Welcome home."
But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ
1 Corinthians 15:57
The Rowing Boat
The keys hung from the lock of the heavy wooden door. It was the entrance to the boot room. Much in the old house had not changed. As I opened the door I smiled but then I blinked back a stray tear. I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, as my eyes caught sight of my fathers wellington boots. My father had passed on, but he had had a good long life.
I was still dressed in my Sunday suit; the others had now left the wake, so the house was quiet. I felt sad but at the same time I knew a peace within my heart. My father had been a vicar so I knew that he now rested in a better place. I suddenly heard voices, my wife had returned from her walk with our children. On impulse I shut myself in the boot room. I took off my shoes and put on my fathers wellingtons. I just needed to get away.
I opened the back door and walked purposely across the lawn. Mud stuck to the soles of the boots, then a few leaves started to collect as I walked. I suddenly knew where I wanted to go, to say my final goodbye to my father. I walked out of the back gate at the bottom of the garden and turned right into the little dried up stream.
I followed the course of the dry river bed as it widened until I came to the boathouse. It was old and dirty now, the door was rotten, but I remembered it as a child, brightly painted. My dad used to store his rowing boat here. As I remembered I found myself smiling. Dad always used to lift me into the boat and he would push the boat out into the river with me in it. He used the oar to help it rest against the bank, and tied the boat to the little tree. The tree was gone now. My dad used to wade back to the boathouse door to close it.
I never once saw my dad fall in the water but I used to tease him. My dad would smile and wink, and then he would grab the side of our rowing boat and rock it gently to get his own back on me. My dad used to loosen the rope and then climb into the boat. We would ride down the river for a while until it widened further then he would stop rowing and we would both drift with the slight current. Many times we would feed the ducks together.
Tears suddenly gushed from my eyes as I looked at the old boathouse. The rowing boat was gone now. The course of the river had been diverted due to a new road being put in that bypassed the town. I wandered slowly along the dry river bed unaware of my surroundings for a while until I suddenly became aware of a strong pair of arms holding me in my pain, though I could see no one. I knew who the arms belonged to because I had faith too; just like my father.
God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Matthew 5:4
I was still dressed in my Sunday suit; the others had now left the wake, so the house was quiet. I felt sad but at the same time I knew a peace within my heart. My father had been a vicar so I knew that he now rested in a better place. I suddenly heard voices, my wife had returned from her walk with our children. On impulse I shut myself in the boot room. I took off my shoes and put on my fathers wellingtons. I just needed to get away.
I opened the back door and walked purposely across the lawn. Mud stuck to the soles of the boots, then a few leaves started to collect as I walked. I suddenly knew where I wanted to go, to say my final goodbye to my father. I walked out of the back gate at the bottom of the garden and turned right into the little dried up stream.
I followed the course of the dry river bed as it widened until I came to the boathouse. It was old and dirty now, the door was rotten, but I remembered it as a child, brightly painted. My dad used to store his rowing boat here. As I remembered I found myself smiling. Dad always used to lift me into the boat and he would push the boat out into the river with me in it. He used the oar to help it rest against the bank, and tied the boat to the little tree. The tree was gone now. My dad used to wade back to the boathouse door to close it.
I never once saw my dad fall in the water but I used to tease him. My dad would smile and wink, and then he would grab the side of our rowing boat and rock it gently to get his own back on me. My dad used to loosen the rope and then climb into the boat. We would ride down the river for a while until it widened further then he would stop rowing and we would both drift with the slight current. Many times we would feed the ducks together.
Tears suddenly gushed from my eyes as I looked at the old boathouse. The rowing boat was gone now. The course of the river had been diverted due to a new road being put in that bypassed the town. I wandered slowly along the dry river bed unaware of my surroundings for a while until I suddenly became aware of a strong pair of arms holding me in my pain, though I could see no one. I knew who the arms belonged to because I had faith too; just like my father.
God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Matthew 5:4
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