If I have a joy in my life that would far exceed anything else I would say it's that all of my five children came to ask Jesus into their hearts at a young age and that even now grown they know how to go to the Father in prayer for all of their concerns, praying in the name of their Lord.
I was thinking and chuckling one day about some things daughter Becky wrote after my mother's funeral and so I wrote a poem that shares some of her observations.
A young girl at nine
as she sat by my side
thought about life
and the changing tide
of promise and hope
and much more besides
while we wept cause my mother
her grandmother died.
It was Easter when Heaven
swung opened it's doors
to the woman who cancer
had sent to the floor.
And my father knew well
what had severed the cord
Twas the smoking that got her
on the way to the Lord.
While there in the church
it was hers to make sense
of vestments and flowers
and rising incense.
Of uncles who talked
and pews like a fence
from the grandmother loved
and a heart that was rent.
So she poured out her feelings
onto paper with trust
what she heard say the preacher
with words that were just:
"Ashes to ashes
and dust to dust
when it's your time to go
you must, you must."
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