Evening Glow

~~ Evening Glow ~~

Before me, the maple still laden with leaves

on the right, tall leafless locusts in gold salmon hues

are reflecting a sunset that isn’t in view.

To my left a small bird resting high on bare branches -

all echo soft praise as the evening advances.

For this day, late November at 60 degrees,

whose sun cast a blessing able to ease

the portent of winter and its deep freeze,

I too lift a heart full of thanksgiving and

 

~ Praise ~

JoMae
11/28/17

It was as if all the light of a grand sunset were glowing on the limbs of the locust trees - and no where else.  None of those shades were in the sky.  Kind of magic, I thought.

September Blessings

September Blessings

After a chilly rainy start to September 

     following a cooler than usual summer, 

     as discouragement was taking hold - and emptiness -

     a balmy warm amazing week.

I soaked it in.  Spent much of it working 

     either on the front or back porch or in the garden.  

Into the evening.  It was delicious.  

I tried to memorize it against 

       the inevitable winter to come. 

I just stayed out there and let it bless me.  And it did.  

Twice, neighbors stopped by to chat

      - easing the isolation. 

And all it took was being outdoors, visible, and

      looking up with a smile when someone said hi.

JoMae

9/9/17

Broken Harmony

Your desire will be for your husband,

and he will rule over you. Gen 3:16b NIV

~~Broken Harmony~~

When I consider the fall and it’s consequences, 

how Godde foresaw that the man would now rule 

over the woman yet her desire would be for him, 

I see examples of brokenness in need of 

healing by the promised Messiah. 

Not only was male dominance a result of sin, 

so too was women’s longing for him in spite of it.   

Generation after generation Christians have 
confessed our sins and promised anew 
to live as Jesus taught us to.  

As Godde meant for us to be.  

We have used endless gifts of intelligence to discover

 and harness secrets of creation to enrich our lives.

To ease the pain of childbirth for instance, 

yet patriarchal dominance remains 

We are  mindful always of Christ’s enormous gift 

and sacrifice to bring us near to Godde.

Yet I wonder if we haven’t missed 

a great part of Jesus' gift.

The modeling of how we are to treat each other.

Jesus, the Promised Messiah, born a male mortal, 

did not dominate, did not demean or misuse women.

Rather, Jesus listened and interacted with respect.

We still have much to learn as image bearers of

 our Creator. As redeemed children of Godde

 striving to live as folks redeemed and healing

 from the brokenness of sin.

                                                              JoMae
                                                              10/1/17

Birther Godde

As we reflect Godde’s love, as we teach and praise our Beloved Maker, as we serve the ONE who rules our lives, let us not limit the essence of the Divine Mystery with language that pictures our Loving Godde as if only and exclusively male.

You deserted the Rock, who fathered you; 

you forgot the God who gave you birth.  
Deut 32:18 NIV

~~Remember The Godde Who Gave Us Birth~~

Aside from the gender inequity inherent in our world, one reason I find myself determined not to use exclusive language for Godde, is that it diminishes our view of the endless enormity of the Divine.  It shrinks our understanding of the ONE reflected by all created in  Godde’s  image, to honoring only a portion of Godde’s amazing being.

Words draw pictures in our heads, engrave them on our minds and in the hearts of our children. A traditional Sunday morning full of quotes from male theologians, numerous references to our Heavenly Father, Lord, King etc. - and multiple uses of he, his, and him, reinforces the patriarchal picture.

A typical message about Godde tends to render invisible and mute both the feminine face of theGodde who gave us birth and the daughters who bear the divine image along with their brothers

     ~~Prayer~~

Heavenly FatherMother, 

Please speak to our hearts

Whisper your truths to ponder

that we may know you more fully

that we may serve you more truly

As we walk in the Holy Name of

Jesus Christ
Amen

JoMae
10/1/17

Good Morning World

Good Morning World

On the front porch at dawn

watching the world wake up

greeting ‘good morning’ to folks

walking by with their dogs

after saying goodbye to visiting 

family off on a long journey home

I stay here with my coffee and words

offering a a thankful hello to 

A New Day

                                       JoMae
                                        9/27/17 

Dawn

A Savored Memory

One early August morning, 

the summer of John’s death, 

in that sleepy state of half awake, 

I caught a glimpse of him 

neatly dressed for the day, 

walking around the end of our bed, 

over to my side.  

The vision quickly vanished.

yet remains engraved  -

a gift that brought to mind 

an early morning moment captured

many years ago in this small poem:

 ~~ DAWN ~~

Up at dawn 

he gently tucked her with the sheet

and fixed it where the mattress corner

had come undone above her head

then slipping out

went down to put the coffee on

He did not know

that in her semi conscious morning sleep

she was aware

and felt the precious oil of his love

flow through her veins

 a secret blessing

JoMae
7/29/88

                              

Broken Puzzle

Year after year John's Prize Geranium blooms on

 

“Past Life Lives in the Living”   —Wendell Barry  

I’ve been reading Barry’s “Sabbath Poems” these days.  They speak to the pondering that goes on within as I pick up the pieces scattered about by the earthquake that took John and left my own core scattered in the wind.  These jigsaw cells, once us, now strewn, must be collected and re-configured to discover whose were whose and which live on. And how.  It is a puzzle. A broken puzzle.

 Broken Puzzle

Putting the pieces back together

when half have disappeared

is nye unto impossible

Yet hearts, they say, do mend

though not without deep scar 

tissue filling gaps of

Missing Pieces

JoMae
9/10/17 

Holding Hands

YOUR HANDS

Sitting in this room alone

I feel my hand in yours

As surely as if we’re on an evening walk

Strolling down the avenue together

I feel your palm

Quite coarse from woodworking

Soft fuzz on the back of your hand

Your fingers squeezing mine 

In fond recognition of 

Loving camaraderie 

I know your hand entwined in mine

Now resting on the sheet 

Swollen strange and puffed

At the end of an arm full of tubes

As you lay dying

Those young strong hands  

Now elderly and frail and still

Baseball hands. Swinging golf clubs

Draftsman’s hands, always designing

A gardener’s hands, a craftsman

I have the work of your hands all around me

In this old home you refurbished 

Your carpenter hands creating beauty

Were the hands of a dad who could fix anything

Beloved hands

I feel them on my cheek and 

Wish them in my hair and 

Everywhere

Your hands holding me

Our hands holding each other 

For almost 60 years

JoMae

8/21/17

[Re-posted:  9/15/19]

Total Eclipse

ECLIPSE

A  phenomenon of majesty

choreographed by Godde

A grand display of wonder

moved across the sky

An ancient rhythm seldom seen

known and yet unknown

Stars came out to play at noon

the sun slow dancing with the moon

The universe displayed its

grand Divine design

As awe struck creatures

 marvelled

Yesterday

JoMae

8/22/17

Two Faces Into One

TWO FACES OF MY DAYS -

Two opposing tracks weave together in my life these days.  On the one hand, I’m getting used to living in solitary silence.  Even with the radio or TV on, the void is so dense you could cut it with a knife.  I wake to long hours of empty air.  Not feeling very social yet, so no schedule or commitments.  

On the other hand, I wake to an abundance of empty hours and the quiet solitude I’ve always loved and carved out time for.  Now I’m swimming in it and actually making good use of it.  I’m writing my way through this journey.  The blank page each morning has become my good friend!  Some pieces I share and when kudos come, they wrap around me like warm hugs.  

For example, I somehow pulled a muscle in my hip so have stayed in and favored it this week.  Stayed off my feet as much as possible to let it heal.  So it’s been a string of quiet uneventful days.  Phone calls most days, meaningful conversations online, but little or no in person interaction.  

Earlier I joined a private Facebook group for widows and have watched and been impressed with  the caring and encouragement that goes on there. It is a safe place for some to scream their pain and others share small joys of healing. All of us trying to figure out this new world we find ourselves discovering.  Our new normal. Our new identity.  Seeing how our stories, while so different, overlap, the other day I shared one of the piece I’d written about my journey.  The response was kind of overwhelming.  As the hugs and thank yous began to pour in, and women conversed on how my words had helped them, I saw a glimpse of purpose in this quiet week. A sense of confirmation that life has not completely stopped.  That out of this dark silence, perhaps my pondering can bring a bit of solace to another.  A thought which brings me joy.   

JoMae
7/27/17