Showing posts with label Poem about Living midst Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poem about Living midst Death. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Tuesday's Trust - I Am Broken...





I am forgotten as a dead man out of mind: 
I am like a broken vessel.

~Psalm 31:12


Tuesday's Trust

I Am Broken...










I Am Broken…



My child was killed…
Broken am I.
And yet…


HE was broken for me!


Goals, you say?
Who am I?
Where am I going?


He went to the cross!
He died for me!
He died for my child!


I am God's child.
I lost my child.
I carry my cross.


He broke bread
…...............................and gave it to His disciples.
….............His body, broken for me


Perhaps in my brokenness
He pours out, through me...


I am broken.
I am made in His image,
to be conformed to Him.
He was broken.
I'm to become like Him…


God's way
Is not man's.



We're to be broken, poured out...


His goal for me?


Not the way of the world
But the way of Love.
I am broken,
But I am His.
My child was broken,
But she is His.
Love holds us both.
It is enough.




Jesus, You are enough for me.

~Philippians 4:19



~~~






"For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways," declares the LORD. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts."



~~~




 But Jesus answered them, saying, “The hour has come that the Son of Man should be glorified. Most assuredly, I say to you, 

unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain. 

He who loves his life will lose it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also. If anyone serves Me, him My Father will honor.


John 12:23-26 NKJV



Poem - I Am Broken... ~Angie Bennett Prince - May 5, 2014









"Broken" graphic, from
http://in-formatio.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/depressionslide3.png

Scripture graphic, thanks to 
* Scripture & Words * NO.5    Phoebe    on Pinterest


Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Wednesday's Woe - Are We All Ruined?







Wednesday's Woe
Are We All Ruined?




"Even if he didn't kill them, he still should die. He's ruined now that his sister is dead."
"By that same logic, I should die because my sister is dead, and I'm ruined."
~Sharp Objects: A Novel by Gillian Flynn, p. 236



Are we all ruined,
by your death I mean?
Living but scarred,
a terrible scene.
Parents and siblings,
death's toll it takes,
Living but dying,
attending our wakes.

Are we all ruined,
by your death I mean?
Parents and siblings
ever grieving, lives spent,
living our deaths,
a terrible scene...












Picture, thanks to photobucket.com

Poem - Are We All Ruined? - Angie Bennett Prince - 7/22/2012


Friday, September 9, 2011

Saturday's Sayings - Facing the Heart of Grief






Saturday's Sayings


Facing the Heart of Grief






My soul is from elsewhere,

I'm sure of that,

and I intend to end up there.


~Rumi




*****




"You may hear their sounds and see them in the shadows. You will forget they are gone and then remember again, and your heart will break one more time."


"Grief takes just as long as it takes... it a process that may never truly end, but will always change."


~grief-remindersforhealing.com





*****




I put on a normal face to the world, but inside I am in between life & death. All I have is memories of a once very busy life. Now I stay home away from the world that is still living complaining about economy & weather. Things are different now. I am trying to come to terms with this grief but seems like it has gotten worse. All I can say, is that I am grateful for this website & the people who make me understand that we are not alone. Even if its 10 mins a day, I feel like Im not going as crazy as the rest of the world makes me think.


~R. C., Grieving Mother





*****





The mention of my child's name
...May bring tears to my eyes,
But it never fails to bring
Music to my ears.
If you are really my friend,
...Let me hear the beautiful music of his name.
It soothes my broken heart
And sings to my soul.

~Author unknown

(from Compassionate Friends website)





*****




"Giving is the secret of a healthy life...not necessarily money, but whatever a man has of encouragement and sympathy and understanding."


~John D. Rockefeller, Jr.




*****



Please mommy, dont cry, do not be sad.
Treasure the time how ever short we had.
I miss you too, but I can feel your love.
Even up here flying, like a little dove.
I know it seems scary, and you feel all alone.
No one can ever replace me, I was your own.
Your sadness means I was loved every day.
Though you cant see me, beside you I lay.

It takes so much courage, for you to go on.
I know our time together, wasnt very long.
But you now will be stronger for knowing me.
It will be okay some day mommy, you will soon see.

In the times that are hard, remember I am here.
Never far from you watching; always very near.
It isnt fair we have to live so far away.
But dont worry; I hear everything that you say.

I am with you with every step that you take.
Sending reminders I love you, for your sake.
Now forever in your heart I will stay.


~contributed by grieving mother, G. G. whose friend had shared it with her



*****



Sooner or later (or perhaps never) we let go of the hope the we will return to who we used to be, and that life will be like it used to be. How could it be? By letting go of this hope...we create an open space. That open space is the place we birth our new self. Gently, and with great courage, trust, and grace.


~Tom Zuba





*****



An affirmation to those who have lost



I believe there is no denying it.

It hurts to lose.


It hurts to lose a cherished relationship with another,

or a significant part of one's own self.


It can hurt to lose that which has united one with the past.

Or that which has beckoned one into the future.


It is painful to feel diminished or abandoned,

to be left behind or left alone.


Yet I believe there is more to losing than just the hurt and the pain.

For there are other experiences that loss can call forth.


I believe that courage often appears,

however quietly it is expressed.

However easily it goes unnoticed by others.


The courage to be strong enough to surrender,

The fortitude to be firm enough to be flexible.


The bravery to go where one has not gone before.


I believe a time of loss can be a time of learning unlike any other.


And, that it can teach some of life's most valuable lessons.


In the act of losing,

there is something to be found.


In the act of letting go,

there is something to be grasped.


In the act of saying "good-bye"...

there is a "hello" to be heard.


For I believe that living with loss is about beginnings

as well as endings.


And grieving is a matter of life more than of death.


And growing is a matter of mind and heart,

and soul more than of body.


And loving is a matter of eternity more than of time.


Finally, I believe in the promising paradoxes of loss.


In the midst of darkness,

there can come a great Light.


At the bottom of despair,

there can appear a great Hope.


And deep within loneliness,

there can dwell a great Love.


I believe these things because others have shown the way.


Others who have lost and then have grown through their losing.


Others who have suffered and then found new meaning.


So, I know I am Not alone.


I am accompanied,


day after night,


Night after day.



~Author Unknown





*****




As If

By Kristen Spexarth -


Somewhere along a lifetime most are broken
but we pretend we are not
taking up armor and masks
as if so doing we could fool the rest
as if a state of brokenness
was something to be ashamed of.
Contorted behind a smiling
and daily polished patina
we bend ourselves into pretzels for fear
a glimmer, warm and needing,
might shine through and blow our cool.
As if no one could read the details
running tickertape across our foreheads.
As if none could see our clumsy antics
tripping over bloated and rotting unattended business.
As if our single-minded hypocrisy
caused no pain.
As if we could hide from who we are,
as if who we are was hiding.
And still we are loved by those who see us
better than we see ourselves
love letting go of face forever and
taking up the heart of us
however broken.
Perhaps it is time to accept that broken is a part of place
that within these learning fields on earth
broken is a state of grace
wherein opportunity exists to learn the best
and the worst of it.
Perhaps it’s time to recognize
and embrace the way we feel
picking our broken pieces off the ground of being
learning to knit them together again
with compassion for ourselves
larger than we were before,
larger than we ever imagined,
building with a new awareness
that somehow broken opens a door
invisible before.
And with newfound wholeness, expansive,
that embraces the broken and the mending
we become alive to the possibility
of sharing our humanity.

Unbroken we can never know this.
So let go of fear of falling,
stubbing pride and dignity
embrace the lessons a lifetime brings
laughing and crying wholeheartedly.
To ride our time without a bump
in our imagined being
would be to live an epoxy bubble,
brittle, indifferent, and unmoved by beauty
untouched by an ocean of love surrounding
beckoning us to jump.


~Kristen Spexarth

Copyright © 2001

~Graciously permitted to share this poem with you by Grieving Mother, Kristen Spexarth.








Kristen Spexarth's website about her books of poems can be found at passingreflections.com ~ Thank you, Kristen!


Thursday, September 8, 2011

Friday's Faith - The Haunted Eyes










Friday's Faith


The Haunted Eyes





We smile,

We greet family

We laugh at antics

We share stories

We take pictures...


Ah... There's the rub.

We look upon the pictures

And see...

The true story,

The story underneath the story

Of public graces and small talk.


We see

The eyes...


The face is smiling

But,

The eyes...

Are forever sad,

Not fitting into the graceful,

fun laughter

filling out the rest of our face.


The eyes are haunted...

though

Surrounded by family,

Surrounded by people,

Surrounded by love...

We are haunted

By the one who is NOT there...


Forever gone from our hearts

embrace

Forever gone from our playful

repartee

Forever gone from our reassuring

glances

Forever gone from our loving

hugs


Our eyes are haunted

As our eyes will never forget;

They are the window to our soul

And they will not lie.


We are haunted.

Our lives are destroyed

Our story has stopped

...Because you left us,

Or were taken...

And though we appear to "move on"

We never will.

Not really.

For our eyes tell us

Our world has stopped...


Even if no one around us

knows

nor accepts it,

We know:

It's over.


Our eyes tell us

What we try not to know:


Life is forever changed

With the heart amputated

from its chest walls


And the soul eviscerated

from its former happy perch


And the spirit trapped

between Heaven and earth

but no longer grounded

in this room with these people

In this here and now,

but firmly entrenched in

the Promise,

the Promise of

what is to come,

but still

the Promise...

of the

Not Yet.












Picture, thanks to Loss of an Adult or Young Adult Child Photos

Poem - The Haunted Eyes - Angie Bennett Prince - 9/8/2011

Picture of Heaven, thanks to Jill Compton


Thursday, September 1, 2011

Friday's Faith - Fighting Grief… - Could God Use a Wounded Soul?






Friday's Faith


Fighting Grief…


Could God Use a Wounded Soul?



Ragamuffin, ragamuffin, do you

Stick out in this perfect crowd of people?

And wonder—how could God ever use you

When you are wounded, wasted, or feeble?


Yes, you may feel shattered, broken, rough-edged,

But who questions the Master Architect

When He chooses coal from the nasty dregs

To build His temple, despite dark defect?


Perhaps in hands of One skillful and wise,

You can be cut, polished to perfection,

Diamond-in-the-rough t’ reflect His glory;

You may try to hide, cover, or disguise

When He wants humility, submission

From you—choice rock, He picked from His quarry.


Rest yourself in His hands; let Him design;

Don’t hide who you are; to your grief resign.

To complete His plan, He may need your kind;

Surrender yourself; to Him be consigned.


The Master Architect plans His design;

It is ours to obey, yield, and resign.

Knowing in our lives He surely will shine,

We must trust the results to God Divine.


Don't be ashamed dwelling in Death's Darkness;

Love's Light hovers o'er, shining His Brightest...











Poem - Fighting Grief... Will God Use a Wounded Soul? - Angie Bennett Prince - 1/1/2009