Poem of the month and/or mini musing

On this page, you will see a new work, a favorite work, or a comment (mini musing) posted every so often, not necessarily once a month. The category page from which each work is taken is listed in parentheses ( ).


JULY 1,2020

Years ago, someone in my church was offended by something I did. To this day, I don't think I did anything wrong. But, that's not the point. He did. He felt wronged. I apologized. He asked his wife to stop talking to me. I was devastated because she was my best friend and he had put her in a terrible position. So, my good friend and I didn't speak, while we prayed and cried a lot. This poem came out of that experience. Given the tense climate in the US right now, I imagine there are many different kinds of people who are experiencing emotions similar to mine, the terrible ache of Hurts Unforgiven. I'm happy to say, two weeks later, the Lord had graciously moved in this man's heart and my friendship with his wife was restored. May we all learn the difficult ministry of forgiveness.


(From: Fellowship with Believers)


Hurts Unforgiven

 

My pleasant thoughts of you have been

interrupted by this ache…

I would really like to be free again,

the latter is too hard to take.

 

The former mind of smiles and cheer,

of friendship –warm and clear,

Is clouded by the muddy waters

of hurts unforgiven, I fear.

 

I hurt you, yes. And you hurt me.

We didn’t mean to, though.

Apologies were spoken, but

the wounds were deep, as you know.

 

You backed away, withheld your love,

“And moved on” without me.

I stand alone and grieve to God—

How I miss what ought to be!



“Now instead, you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be

overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.  I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love

for him… in order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of

his schemes.”    2 Corinthians 2:7,8,11. NIV 

 


gratefulsue


4/6/00  


© 2015 gratefulsue                              



JUNE 16, 2020

The end of May and beginning of June was a difficult period for the United States. Fresh 

examples of police racism, and brutality against Black men in particular, and African American 

people in general, delivered fresh trauma to the collective psyche of the Black community. 

Protest marches in support of the Black Lives Matter movement were held in nearly every major 

city in the US and even in many cities overseas. Almost everyone, Black, Brown, or White, was 

outraged at the dismal state of prejudice and injustice which continues to exist in the U.S.

The images in online videos and news reports and written accounts online reminded me of

how systemic injustice is a form of ongoing trauma to the entire community, from torturous 

thoughts and concerns, day after day, after day. Here's the first part of a poem I wrote titled,

Trauma.


Mind videos and audios,

            are stuck on “instant replay.”

Like a “broken record,” they

            continue night and day.

 

Exhausting thoughts, ferocious fears;

            raw feelings barge right in—

at any moment, without welcome,

            relentlessly, they begin.

 

Depression enters, falls, and feels

            like a blanket, wet and heavy.

Endless details overwhelm,

            and drown me without pity.

 

My mind becomes a second foe,

            besides the trauma’s furry.

A battleground for fractured faith,

            hard questions, doubts and worry.


For the remainder of the poem, go to poem # 7  (From: Suffering). 


JUNE 1, 2020

In February of 2017, I was volunteering with a local program, run out of a church, to teach English

as a second language (ESL) to Internationals. On one occasion, I was having a private 

conversation with a woman named Nursen. She is a very warm person, the child of devout 

Muslim parents, but herself, an atheist. She said she was "tired of people who claim a religion 

but don't follow the core principles." Her philosophy now is to "Love, love, love!" and to always 

help any person who needs it. How right she is about that (Lev. 19:18, Matt. 22:39, Gal. 5:4) 


The following year at Christmas time, the director of the church ESL program wanted to 

give a small gift to each of the 83 students. Nursen knew how to knit and so she helped out the 

director by knitting 83 3x4 inch squares with a cross in the middle, to be used as Christmas 

tree ornaments. Her labor of love inspired the following poem.


(From: People)


Love! Love! Love!

 

What an example, her heart of love!

            Hours and hours knitting eighty-three crosses

To bless eighty-three new friends.

 

She does not believe in the One she honors,

            And yet, she displays His character—

Much more than many who claim to believe.


“The only thing that matters

            is LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!”

She preached to me some time ago.

 

Yes, you’re right, my Turkish friend.

            So said the man on the cross.

And, in that pursuit, you are ahead of me.

 

My Lord and Savior sees and smiles.

            “Look how well she uses the gifts

I shower on all mankind!”

 

Oh, that all would have this purpose—

            to, “LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!”

Like that of sweet Nursen.

 

Oh, that I would be so generous—

            handing out care and acceptance

Even to ones so different from myself.

 

 

gratefulsue

12.12.17

© 2018 gratefulsue

(for Nursen, who is from Turkey)


MAY 28, 2020

The current health and political situation in the United States is very polarized, as you may have 

noticed. Haha! How could you not notice? Most everyone has strong opinions about what's best

for the economy and the country, in combatting the Covid-19 virus; likewise regarding what is 

best in regard to whether or not our current President should be re-elected in the fall. Relax. I'm 

not going to talk about those subjects! However, I will share what I think we should be focusing 

on instead. "Love! Love! Love!" Watch for the background on this poem, on this page, June 1st!


MAY 14, 2020

Do you ever suffer from daydreams and depression? I have that bent because I tend to imagine 

my life in different circumstances from the ones I have! Not that I "own" a bad life or even difficult

life circumstances at the moment. Yet, I still tend to long for and wonder about what do not 

have. Contentment is a virtue! Below, is the first verse from my poem, "Here is Where I Live." It's 

poem # 7 in Contentment Musings. Click the link for the remainder of the poem.


Why do I sometimes wish

            for lives I do not have?

Dreams which cannot happen, and

            more choices, good or bad?


MAY 2, 2020

This morning I was thinking about the relationship between truth, light, and the Holy Spirit, while reading in the book of John, chapter 3, verse 21. Jesus says, "... whoever lives by the truth comes into the light," and in chapter 4:23 Jesus says, the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth." Truth is the common thread. I believe that people who are seeking the truth are well along the way on the path that leads to the Father, or to greater spiritual growth. Truth brings with it, light (deeper understanding); and deeper understanding leads to faith, or increased faith in the Lord. Faith in the Lord brings the Spirit, so those three work together: truth, light, and the Spirit. See also, my poem, "Truth's Friends," in Doctrines.


April 28, 2020

This poem, written about six months after I became a Christian, describes me before I understood how to have a relationship with God through faith in Christ. I was very afraid of dying, and wondered how anyone could know if there was a God. I was dying to know... I was gasping for God.


(From: Evangelism)


Gasping for God

 

 Fear…

            (full of

            forever, moving

            forward

            fast,

                        and

                        anxious

                        animosity,

                        almost

                                    sadness, is

                                    sometimes

                                    superficially

                                    suppressed.

                                    Someone’s

                                                intimate

                                                intangible

                                                emotion)

                                                            …is silently

                                                            gasping for

                                                            God.


 

gratefulsue

5/3/77

© 2015 gratefulsue



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