Little Bird

Jeanne 1 Comment

Last week my grandson and I noticed a bird’s nest in a tree just next to their backyard deck.  Upon closer inspection, we could see the head of a bird at the top of the nest.  Then, to our delight, a large Robin swooped down to the nest, and 3 babies stretched up their large yellow beaks in anticipation of a food delivery.  They weren’t disappointed, and neither were we.  The whole family eventually joined in our vigil as we speculated as to when those babies would take wing.  The next day, the nest was empty.  Vacated.

My grand kids also grow so fast.  Time just keeps on ticking.  Decades can fly by almost unnoticed.  The reality of mortality is usually sobering to me, especially now that I’m on the ‘short end of the stick’.  I wrote this poem for Bob just after we were married, and 30 seemed old!

 

A fledgling little bird uneasily flaps his wings.

A newborn baby bunny is clumsy when he springs.

But time with all Her patience

Cures all their newborn ills,

Yet still the creatures learn to grow

By stumbling and spills.

And so it is with you, my dear,

You work and play from year to year.

And isn’t it so nice to know

You have eternity to grow?

And with each birthday you can look

And see the road and climbs you took.

The older that you grow to be,

The easier the top to see!

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Humor

Jeanne 4 Comments

Humor is a two-way street; it leads both up and down.
A small child’s smile can lift us up; each babe is Heaven’s clown.
When we laugh at others and make fun of who they are,
Bad humor hurts and cripples, and can leave a hidden scar.

Our Lord has much good humor. Creation has it’s clowns,
From kittens, pups, to elephant calves, come cute and joyful sounds.
From otter pups to monkeys, in young life, good humor rings.
God sows joyous laughter through summer unto spring.

Some souls are hurt through life and their souls grow blind and cold.
Each heartache, pain and sorrow can make our souls feel old.
We lose our ability to see the simple joys in life.
Our souls become cankered with anger, self-pity and strife.

We choose the path of humor, laughter, love and joy.
We use forgiveness and repentance so Satan can’t destroy
Our ability to see the beauty that flows through each new day.
Good humor is the result of living life in God’s eternal way.

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Pelican Ballet

Jeanne 2 Comments

This last weekend we ventured out to Willard Bay with our tent trailer. Before we were joined by grand kids; before it got noisy and hectic, we took a drive out on the Bear River Bird Refuge. In my opinion, the pelicans stole the show. They are so immense, and so brilliantly white. It was especially thrilling to see a group of about 4 take flight from a still pond surrounded by willows. They were so graceful! And, once they open up their large wings, it is surprising to see the black contrast feathers. Their flight is quiet and flowing, like a ballet.

We took our leave of cars and speed,
Out upon the bay,
As the night was closing in
And pushing out the day.
There came a flow of pelicans
With such a gentle sway.
My soul sang out, my eyes were filled
In their gentle array.
As they drifted above the earth,
From dusk to dark that day.
Then I praised God for love on wings
In so many ways.
And joy and peace did come to me
As I watched the fading symphony
Join the end of day.

Give Them Wi ngs

Jeanne 3 Comments

Yesterday the whole family gathered at my house for a Mother’s Day lunch. We’ve done this every year for many years, and it is sobering to see how time creeps up on you. It used to be that my children gave me gifts, but now it’s my children and the grand kids too, and I have a few more wrinkles and aches and pains. But what I noticed most about yesterday was how BIG those little grand kids are getting. Ammon, the oldest, now wears a size 11 men’s shoe! Even the 4,5 and 6 year olds are looking grown up. I can’t decide if time is my enemy or my friend.

When you were born
And I held you close,
So helpless and little.
And I was glad I was your Mother.
I protected and fed,
And cleaned you.
And rocked you.

And you grew.

When you were little,
And home all day,
And running around
Underfoot all the time,
I was so glad I was your Mother.
We played and we read.
We walked and we talked.

And you grew.

When you were in school,
And gone some of the time.
You made friends of your own.
And played your own games.
I helped you with homework.
I washed and I cleaned.
I counseled and worried.

And you grew.

You stand at the threshold
Where I once stood,
With your back to our home,
And the world in your face.
And I’m glad I’m your Mother.

I will miss you and wish
You were back home again.
But still I will help you
Fashion the best wings I can make
As you fly away from me.

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My Dearest One

Jeanne 1 Comment

My dearest one is the one
That gave me life of herself.
Always helping through my childhood,
Hardly thinking of herself.
I love her as much as living,
More that silver, more than gold.
For she’s a part of me,
A part which will never be sold.
I guess everyone has a mother,
Though some lose her at birth.
So I’m giving to you, what she means to me,
The most beautiful person on earth.

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I Recall A Mother’s Day

Jeanne 4 Comments

I recall a Mother’s Day,
Seems ages past though scarcely ten,
When silence echoed in the quiet nursery,
Void of any cry or call for Mama.
And any infant I should see, was not my own,
Who recently had come and quickly gone.

The long-stemmed rose–the gift,
A token of Motherhood
Was mockery to my being
Who aspired to the grandest height of all–Mother.

But lo, the years produced the child my heart desired.
And now I see within the rosebush
The new-formed dewy buds,
And overlook the thorn
That seemed so sharp and painful
On other days like this.

With house and arms and thoughts no longer empty,
There is a deluge of the once longed for dependent cries of “Mama!”

And now the garden rose I see as me,
With room to grow and flourish,
And send its roots deep into the soil
To stand amid the worldly blasts,
And turn toward the sun
To drink the heaven-sent strength
To make me equal to the title–Mama.

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What Is Success?

Jeanne 4 Comments

If my children can say, at the end of the day,
“I’m happy, I feel good about me.”
If as the sun disappears in the western sky,
I can lay aside tasks for a lullaby.
If during the midst of a busy day,
I stop for some nonsense, childlike play,
I have learned that the tasks of the family are best,
I will have found what I call success.

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The Butterfly

Jeanne 2 Comments

the butterfly

Sometimes our comfort zones lead us into stagnancy. I find that when I feel that way, I’m usually being a bit selfish….self-absorbed, self-conscious, or maybe I feel some self-pity. I have never been a very sociable person. That’s something I’ve had to work at. I’d make a good hermit, a classic loner. But I also know that doesn’t bring the kind of happiness or joy that I know is possible to feel on a more consistent basis. Other people really do matter. Service is a never-failing balm for the selfish and sad soul.

I also penned these words: “Sometimes when I feel bad, and make others feels sad, I’m searching. but see only me. But if I look OUTWARD, peace comes to me inward, and sunshine is all around me.” A little bit of change can do mighty things. I’ve always liked pieces of Gordon Lightfoot’s song–Cobwebs and Dust: “Cobwebs and dust…I hate to leave you, but leave you I must….tear down the walls-gather your treasure and scatter it all….lower the drawbridge, the hour is late.”

Just remember: if there were no change, there would be no butterflies! ..and, Hey, talk to me. Tell me how you feel.

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Easter Thoughts

Jeanne 2 Comments

Yesterday we celebrated Easter along with millions of others. Common themes were: bunnies, dyed eggs, spiral-cut ham, purple baskets, plastic eggs filled with surprises, etc. I struggle to keep from being distracted from the awesome reason for the holiday–the triumphant resurrection of Jesus Christ. I seek never to be complacent about the impact of that message. Because of Jesus, I have hope in a time to come when I can associate with those I love. Death will be no barrier. Easter is the time to bask in His love and promises. (And, yes, to be over-filled with ham and children’s laughter!)

The post below contains the last verses of a poem entitled “Who is Jesus Christ?”.

Jesus Christ suffered for us all on that last great night.
Our sins pressed blood from every pore in Gethsemane’s moonlight.
Judas led armed men unto God’s son. 30 silver coins damned his soul.
They took Christ on the darkest night our world will ever know.

The wicked leaders of the Jews condemned and spat upon our Lord.
Then Pilot, governor from Rome, pled to save him from that blood-thirsty hoard.
The evil leaders of the Jews cried, “Let His blood be upon us?”
Then sent Christ to the place of the skull to satisfy their lust.

Nailed to a cross, between two thieves, Christ asked God to forgive.
Then our Lord gave up his life and went home to God to live.
Christ’s torn body was laid in the tomb as Roman guards stood by.
Angels came and Jesus rose as the third dawn filled the sky.

We believe that Jesus Christ died for every living soul,
And for all who come to know him, our testimonies grow.
Praise to Him from dawn to eve. He is the one true way.
His life and light guide all who seek, learn and obey.

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