as May closes

Breezes blow gently through the garden. Poppies wave glorious colour as spent petals drop.  When did we enter the days of the poppies? Tulips, Red Bud Blossoms, Lilacs  have come and gone. Where did summer suddenly appear from?

Weeks passed bedside, worries pressing insides.  Watching dad writhe out words of faith.  "He who loves us.... he loves us now, present tense, right through our sufferings".  Watching familiar hands thin and become transparent.  Listening to a mind befuddled by narcotics turn circles.  Anxious moments when life is hanging in the balance, tipping one way, then another.  Exhaling relief when corners are turned but keeping optimism at bay and feeling distrustful of the next bend.  Words don't come easy and thoughts are not easily pressed onto a keyboard.  Death the last enemy hovers devouring here and there.  Disease strikes where it may.  Dear Tante Kina succumbed a few days ago but now wears a crown of glory.  Dad is in the midst of the battle.  Neighbours, others, cancer chases them too.  

And we prayed, asking a Loving Father to spare dad's life.  To spare a humble servant this suffering.  To restore this man to the work that he so loves.  And when our own words fail we rest on The Word and trust that His Will be Done.  Behind ugly we see beauty, behind death we see life, behind a cross we see a Saviour.  And time passes, petals drop, lives are lost but lives are gained in Christ.  

Eternity awaits.  

saturday's moon

may 3rd

april 28th

We return home from a week at dad's place to find the gardens full of tulips that I  had hastily planted last autumn.  Planting bulbs was one of the tasks that had been put off after a tumultuous summer.  Yet here they are blazing cheer in the beds oblivious to worries and to anxieties.

Anxieties, brown and dull, under the Father's tender love, emerge triumphant, ablaze with Light.

april 19th

Ah, these little men of mine, absorbed in  words between covers

they bring to mind my brothers, once youngsters like these,

my father and his brothers, once small lads like ours-

and the passage of time that ticks off pain and pleasure, tragedy and triumph

and turns brown heads white, smooth cheeks worn,

as it adds wisdom and knowledge to kindly hearts

that will stop beating at the appointed hour

when they are gathered home.

april 17th

And we take a deep breath

and see that life is exquisite

and oh, so precious

and hope comes in many hues,

and love in many shades.

And, all is well, very well,

because the Creator is the Father and is the Saviour

and is always with us.