Good Friday Wounds
Wounds on his back
Wounds on his head
Wounds on his feet
For us, our Lord bled
Wounds on his hands
Wound in his side
He endured pain
And for us, he died
His grave wounds were
our sins he bore,
And his great love
Opened heaven’s door!
For those of us who live in the southern section of the United States, a “true” winter, with frozen trees and snow on the ground for extended periods (like in the photo above), is quite foreign. And even though my South Texas bones might shiver at the thought of living through months of this kind of frigid weather, I must admit, there is something beautiful and magical about this strange season.
At first glance, everything looks dead. But if you are mindful of what is going on, it is actually a time of sleep, and things are happening under that white blanket! For example, sugar maples only produce sap in cold weather. And boy, do I like maple syrup, so I have become most grateful for winter.
Though I will probably never live in an area that has a “true” winter, we do have loved ones up north, so I might get to visit someday during their “true” winter. After admiring the beauty of the photo above and pondering the importance of winter in the earth’s life cycle, I felt called to write the following poem. Enjoy!
Winter Heed
The trees are not dead,
they are just on pause.
New buds will spring forth
when all of this thaws.
For rising is the sap,
and softening is the seed.
Hidden forces are at work,
it’s winter, give heed!
Many rush through weeks of celebrations
towards the birth of our Savior King.
Some look with expectant contemplation
for his splendid second coming.
I long with hopeful anticipation
for a very personal thing.
My loved ones in reconciliation,
oh, then how my spirit will sing!
©Dreamstime
My husband’s birthday is August 15, and his entrance into this world was a most miraculous event. Here is the true story of his birth, which highlights two important things: The power of prayer, and miracles.
The setting is a small country hospital, and the time frame is the 1950’s. A place and time that did not offer the now common C-section. Labor was not going well and there seemed to be no end in sight. Baby, (my husband-to-be) was not coming out, and mom had lost a lot of blood. Since the situation was dire, family, friends, and neighbors all prayed for mom and the unborn child. They also asked Mary to pray to her son, Jesus, for the struggling mother and child.
A very rough delivery finally happened, which involved large perineal tears and forceps. The days and weeks afterward were touch and go. The hospital stay lasted over a month! The fact that they both survived was described as a miracle.
Yes, miracles still happen today. They are not reserved for just biblical times. Miracles do not have to be grandiose, extraordinary events. We sometimes make the mistake of looking for God only in the extraordinary and miss opening our eyes to see Him in the everyday miracles of life.
In the poem below, I attempt to honor God, my husband’s family with their strong, prayerful faith, as well as the fact that miracles are all around us! It seems that my husband has an intuitive sense of the miracles around him. Maybe because he is a walking miracle? Or perhaps because he is the product of the power of prayer? Either way doesn’t matter. I am so blessed to be in the midst of marriage with him and enjoying the mist of miracles all around us.
In the Midst of Miracles
In the midst of a century
full of carnage and decay,
the world strives with hope
to recover His way.
While in the midst of the States,
in the rural mid-west,
a Czech family sends
to the Lady their request.
For in the midst of a hospital,
a young mother lies
in the blood of endless labor,
lacking energy to try.
In the midst of the rosaries,
with the matter turning grave,
the faithful place their trust
in the Almighty who saves.
Then on the feast of the miracle
of Our Lady assumed,
in the midst of joyful tears,
a son came from the womb.
In the years that followed,
as the young boy grew,
in the midst of his youth,
his soul keenly knew
about the splendor of chipmunks
and the wonderment of bees
in the midst of fishing ponds
and enormous walnut trees.
Now the boy is a man
who declares with delight,
in the midst of a millennium
that’s seemed to lose its sight,
that miracles are everywhere —
in every breath and every bloom!
He and the Lady proclaim,
to a world bemused in gloom,
to pray, and to look,
as through life we all trod
for we’re in the midst of miracles,
we’re in the midst of God!
My husband and his mom on the right, and more of his family.
The time is near for the official launch of the book that I felt the Holy Spirit nudged me to write. Offerings, A Book of Poetry, will be released on the Feast of Pentecost, May 23, 2021, and I have a special offer for you!
As a supporter of LightofLove.blog, you will be able to order a FULL-COLOR edition of this book for $7.99. The same book (in black in white-not color) will be for sale to the general public on Amazon for $7.99. I have a limited number of these FULL-COLOR books, and I want to thank you for your support of my writing, so this unique offer is just for you!
If you would like to order FULL-COLOR copies of Offerings, A Book of Poetry, please send me a message on my author website contact page – click here: Contact Rose of Sharon.
In the message, let me know:
This offer is payable via PayPal https://paypal.me/RoseofSharonWrites?locale.x=en_US or the good old-fashioned way of check, cash, or money order. When you let me know on my author contact page how many books you want, I will send you an invoice for payment (if you don’t pay with PayPal) and then ship your book(s).
Once again, thank you for your support and happy reading!
Within a cave of winter cold,
A newborn King gets gift of gold.
The babe is our Lord,
Who escaped the sword,
Because his dad does what he’s told.
The King grows up and fasts and prays,
Within the desert, forty days.
Temptation then came,
But he beat the game,
Because he minds The Father’s ways.
The King does heal and teach and feed,
He’s hailed with palms; beaten with reed.
The crowd screams, Yes, kill!
Then his blood does spill,
Because of fear and hate and greed.
The King is slain and put in grave,
By everyone he came to save.
And though he is dead,
There’s nothing to dread,
Because he rose and us forgave!
Within a Lent of winter cold,
Let’s mend our hearts; do what we’re told.
We’ll fast, and we’ll pray,
Forgive the wrong way,
And give The King our gifts of gold.
Ice, snow, no electricity, no water, schools, churches and business shut down. The recent week-long Arctic blast was the start of a Lenten season that I have never experienced before. The freezing temperatures presented many challenges for us in Texas and other southern states that rarely experience such frigid weather. However, being shut in with no place to go and minimal distractions turned out to be a blessing! My prayer life was more focused, plus I had more time to write, which was something I was longing for.
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The liturgical season of Advent is a time of preparation for Christmas. Here are 4 facts about this four week long season.
1) First of all, it is rarely 4 full weeks long! Advent begins four Sundays before Christmas, and depending on Continue reading
November 1st is All Saints Day when many recall their favorite saints. It is easy to place these virtuous men and women on a pedestal and think you could never achieve sanctity. Some people say, “I’m no saint” like it is an unreachable goal. The fact is that we are all called to be saints.
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Just what are we to do?
“What are we supposed to do?” This question arose recently in a small group discussion with some of my family and friends. We had decided to get together (via an online meeting) to try and make sense of the unsettling things that have been happening in our country and beyond. As Christians, we pondered the classic question of what would Jesus do? We knew prayer was a definite answer. In addition to prayer, we also felt a need for action.
And then someone brought up fasting.
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Light of Love 