Heaven's Bread

Pieces of heaven fall to earth

as manna in the midst of chaos and pain.

Everyday moments of joy...

pockets of peace and beauty.

Gifts from paradise caught

by a wide open heart,

like snowflakes on a child’s tongue.

Communion with the Prince of peace,

the bread of life, himself.

Savored in joyful hope

and thanksgiving

‘til all is calm,

all is bright.

Patricia Spreng

May you find Christmas blessings in the most unexpected places and right under your nose.  From our house to yours, have a very Merry Christmas.  = )

Connecting with d'Verse Poets in a post holiday gathering in peace.  Come and share the wonderful words of poets.

Be Still, My Soul

Be Still, My Soul

Be still, my soul, the Lord is on thy side. With patience bear the cross of grief or pain.

Leave to thy God to order and provide. In every change He, faithful will remain.

Be still my soul, thy best, thy heavenly Friend
, through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still my soul, thy God doth undertake
 to guide the future as He has the past.


Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake all now mysterious shall be bright at last.


Be still my soul the waves and winds still know
 His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still my soul, the hour is hastening on
 when we shall be forever with the Lord.

When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone. Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.


Be still my soul, when change and tears are past.

All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Psalm 46:10


Author: Catharine Amalia Dorothea von Schlegel, 1752,

cento
Translated by: Jane Borthwick, 1855
Titled: "Stille, mein Wille"


Composer: Jean Sibelius, b. 1865, arr.
Tune: "Finlandia

This is another verse, and an important one...

Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart
.

And all is darkened in the vale of tears.


Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears.


Be still, my soul, thy Jesus can repay
 from His own fullness all He takes away.

"Hello Dearest Mother"

“Hello Dearest Mother.”
Came the text message.

She recognized  those familiar words.

The ones he uses.
When he needs something.
She smiled, knowingly.

He, the son, away at college.
Who doesn't usually call.

Four whole miles from home.
Where Dad works.

He probably doesn’t know about the movie,

Mommie Dearest.
She’s thankful he doesn’t call her that.

But, tonight was different.

Just the two of them.
Impromptu suit shopping.
For an event.
With a young woman.

He had always been insistent on brands.

She had always been insistent on sales.
"Buy your own brand names," she’d say.
"Maahhm," he'd say.

This time he didn’t seem to care about brands.

Tonight he was grateful.
Tonight, she was reminiscent.
She knew she was dressing her little boy for the last time.

Working three jobs while going to school.

"How'm I gonna buy all this stuff when I’m on my own.”

She noticed how a grateful heart made a very handsome man.

He noticed how a grateful heart made her a cheerful giver.

Patricia Spreng