Faith in Those Little Things

Whispers in the silent night

Tender touches by starlight

Words unsaid in angry voice

Actions fulfilled by free choice

Love’s strong arms held open wide

Know that God walks stride by stride

Watches like a parent proud

Mistakes expected: allowed

Understanding, patient, kind

Always there for us to find

Calls our names in winters wild

In spring, He gifts breezes mild

Summer’s heat sends us outside

God’s gifts in flowers abide

Rains remind of deep pain felt

Tragic death, deftly dealt

All these things, of faith speak

Comfort to all those who seek

God’s good grace, offered free

Sin’s release, for you and me

Faith defined in little things

Given by the King of kings

After I Pass On

            We attended a family gathering over Thanksgiving to honor the life of a member who recently passed. Over thirty people came, all family or adopted family. The overall tenor was calm, relaxed, gentle, peaceful. A few tempers arose but were quickly settled.

            There was food to share, games to play, a slide show to watch and caroling. My grandkids entertained us playing Christmas songs, not all in tune. It made no difference as they were sharing.

             Mass was held during which the chorister invited two of my grandchildren, one playing the viola, the other the trumpet, to accompany him. I got to sing as well as another of my grandchildren.

            The mood was solemn, respectful as we sat out on the deck in 69 degree temperatures! Much warmer than at home.

            At the conclusion of the service, my SIL invited everyone to share a good memory they had of her husband. The comments ranged from teaching kids to be safe on the water, his enthusiasm for nature, and his love of his wife. I shared that his ability to recall and discuss practically everything he read, was amazing.

            When my turn comes, I might like something similar. A gathering of friends and family who come together to share food, games, music and stories. A Mass would be center. And I’d love it if some of my choir members would sing my favorite church hymns.

            I don’t want anything huge or ornate. A simple ceremony would suffice.

I’m not planning on leaving soon. I wouldn’t have undergone surgery if I expected to die right away. But you never know. A bus could ram into my car on the way to the gym. A sudden stroke could fell me in my sleep (I like the idea of dying in my sleep!)

That doesn’t mean that I can’t think about how I’d like the gathering to be. The one I just attended would be a great beginning.

How would you like to be memorialized?

Roses

Explore with me the rows and rows of roses.

Their faces turned toward the sun

Blossoms so tiny you could cradle the entire

Bush in the palm of your hand.

Others the size of dinner plates,

So heavy the stalks bend,

Turning their centers toward the ground.

Life-giving ground.

Nutrients galore.

Water drawn out of hidden wells.

Come with me to visit the roses

The shy ones, colors so feint it’s hard to

Distinguish where one ends and the next begins.

The vibrant ones

That scream, look at me, look at me,

And you do.

They have wonderful stories,

The ancient ones, the ones whose roots

Go back millennium.

I want to sit at their feet and listen.

Listen to tales of woe, of joy,

Of growth, of success

Allow them to fill my soul with joy.

An ever-abundant happiness

That will last for weeks, months, years.

They aren’t modest at all.

They flash their colors to the world

Inviting all to stop, stare, breathe in their heady scent.

Roses follow the sun. Opening at dawn,

Closing at sunset, rejoicing during the day.

I want to emulate them. Perhaps I do.