point of view

Today, I thank You for A home that was always open How many birthdays I heard the story of my birth again, how she became a mom for the first time, how she saw her own face when she looked at mine The pushing, prying, once in a while tears because she wanted to know how I was doing Pizza and ice cream in the freezer and the knowledge that we could invite first and inform her second For the big dreams and enthusiasm for our futures That she prays for us. For the tea, always tea The orchids in the window, pansies in the garden peace that was always at Oma's place Always the listening and the special treatment like she was so honored that you were there. The recurrent gathering again, how she is a magnet in the drawing together of our family All the hearts that have been under that roof The foster kids who still send a note every now and then For the niece who is mine in a small way For those who let me hold their babies and rejoice with them For all the kids who...

Good Friday is my favorite holiday although sometimes I'd rather pass over the darkness quickly look to the Sunday sunrise but you've got to sit in the horror of it a little while make your home beneath the Cross and you'll see how He was torn the slow suffocation the life-blood that seeps away, congealed and continual how His loved ones must have prayed for death to hurry what agony to see Him suffer, exposed and shamed, for hours on end but they didn't even know the half of it all hell's darkest powers many eternity's worth of torture, concentrated into this slim span of time creation strains under the weight of this confusion something is terribly, terribly wrong the sun knows it, and dares not look on the horrible sight the earth shudders violently in fear the agonizing shriek rings out Forsaken and yet, He has asked for the bitter wine and vinegar He is willing to drink down the dregs of His Father's wrath The crumbs of His br...