The Meadows and Other Poems

Lately I have been very distracted. Blame it on the words that just seem to float out of nowhere and bother me until it gets down on paper. (I've developed a tic on one eye because of it. Like this 😉 ) So here it is in blog form.

THE MEADOWS

get out of the house,
ride through an unbeaten path
the sun baking one side of face

through the windowglass,
yellows and greens and blue
as open and as wide as laughter,

it beckons, "Come!

trudge through weeds that won't feed,
don't mind the burrs.

Fling your arms wide,
exhale city dust."

take in restoration.
don't live like a mouse.

hair free, we take out phones
look at the beauty with myopic eyes
and fail to thank God

love spoken out loud through
the meadows.

Copyright © 2017 zernahfaith


** Nature has a way of healing us. But we often don't appreciate it because it takes us away from what is comfortable and all our technology. A weekend with the family out by the seashore, rolling on dirt, breathing in salty ocean air, feasting our eyes on colors not on screen, and running/walking through miles and miles of wide, open spaces did wonders to our bodies and minds, (and relationships) that slowly was disintegrating into disorder. A chronic entropy. Nature deficient syndrome. Whatever you might call it, we cannot deny our way of living takes us far from what God has designed for us originally to live healthy, productive lives. We see it in our children. We see it in ourselves. We observe it in our society. Thank God, there's still much to enjoy out there. Take that opportunity. 


MEMORIES

My lungs laboring for breath
I lie supine
My face pressed on a pillow
Your hands on my spine.
Every gentle touch is medicine
Its warmth and care
Long-suffering love from a mother.

Another time I sat facing you
Your eyes attentive and admiring
Food before me growing cold
As I forgot to eat, but talked and talked.
What I saw in your face
Tells me I can be me
I am good enough to my mother.

Copyright © 2017 zernahfaith


** Memories with my mom will always be part of me. And many times, words come and go to describe the love that sustained me and still do and the life she lived to give me.

Lastly, here's one which tells about all this craze I'm in at the moment. :)


POETRY FEVER

It started with Akhmatova's
"I wrote the words that lately
I wouldn't dare to speak"
from then on I can't seem to stop
writing down thoughts in verses
or see colors and shapes, feel music
in words.

That feeling of grandiosity
like waves rising higher, I soar
with the birds, I pirouette like a gazelle
What is this madness I feel?
I think of life and love and duty
reflect on God and His beauty
I bow in humility.

I'm just an amateur in love
but I meet fellow travelers and I learn
I tremble at the beauty they hold
How can mortal beings create
with blood, with tears, with fears
something beautiful 
in its stead?

So I dig my pen on paper
which has flowers on its cover
when I gaze long enough, words pop
like popcorn in a hot pot
I crunch on them, good on my palate
God help me now, I dare to create
a poem.

Copyright © 2017 zernahfaith





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A Mother's Profound Joy
The Taste of Loneliness and The Antidote
Grace

Grace

Spring by Russian artist Stanislav Zhukovsky

I came in peace, I sowed discord.
I sought to belong, I got rejection.
I wanted love, I found animosity.
I long for family, I made an enemy.

Through it all, God answered my needs.
Grace for all my frustrations, my emotions,
Grace for depression, for desperation,
Grace for arid valleys and destructive storms,
Sufficient grace even before I call.

In my struggles and restlessness,
He brought quiet rest.
I wrestle for rights, for supremacy,
I see His full glory in humility.

So I bowed as He took on Himself my faults.
Grace for all my weaknesses, my peccadilloes.
Grace for my inability, my futility,
Grace for fruitless years and empty life,
Abundant grace for a sinner such as me.

In victory I stand as I embrace His promises.
I conquer on my knees in Jesus' blessed name.
I overcome as He holds me--- Jesus, hold me.
I give grace, for Your grace is enough for me.

Copyright © 2017 zernahfaith

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you,

 for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” 

Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, 

that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

*The verses above came about as I reflected on Abigail's life and example, and of course, I couldn't help but look on my own life and reactions. You may read Abigail's story on 1 Samuel 25. She is one amazing woman who, instead of focusing on injustice and rejection, chose to live in grace and give grace. She didn't dwell on her arid valleys but instead stored up in abundance kindness and generosity. When her moment came, the one where only she could avert disaster and use the gifts God had given her, she was more than ready. She rose up to the occasion.

I more than know that we often have our "arid valleys" and "destructive storms", whether brought on by circumstances or our own sinful tendencies, they cause us to cry out against God or to God. Whatever you choose to do, God's grace is abundantly made available for you. It is there to meet our every need. It is there to fill up our nothingness. It is there to grasp and hold on--- sufficient to the day, hour, minute, and moment of trial and weakness. Let Him hold you. His grace is enough.





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Beauty
Am I On the Right Road?
Embracing God's Promises

Courage

I have decided to follow Jesus. I've sung this since I was wearing childish bangs. These past few weeks, though, I have found myself needing some dose of courage. And true to His words, God provided me the encouragement to be brave.

I know I had been putting the decision off, thinking somehow that if I don't do anything or speak at all it will resolve itself. (Isn't that what we often wish? As if, evolution works!) But God works and in His mysterious way, He got my attention. Now I'm on to it and like a dog with a bone, I won't let go until I get my answer. The right one--- in line with His law of love.

I'm talking about being a mother, one who is given the responsibility to protect and raise God's children, providing them what they need and nurturing them to grow in the knowledge and grace of their Ultimate Parent. Because as women, we are builders of our homes. "The wise woman builds her house" (Proverbs 14:1). 

Keep It Simple

Winter in Russia by Oksana Yushko

Sipping my tea while waiting for Ella to finish her cereal, I type away as the two older kids torture each other with tickles. It's almost mid-morning but it's hard not to savor the last of the holidays. Tomorrow things will be back to usual--- waking up at seven, groggily making way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for my son while wiping away sleepy cobwebs from eyes and ignoring a more incessant call for sleep with a pounding headache, and after that, get Ella ready for kindergarten. Usually, after seeing them off, Roxy's robust voice will be heard calling for her mom. Or for potty time. Or breakfast.

But that's for tomorrow. Today, I've got today. I have a choice to do what I want with it. But what?

We got to celebrate Christmas yesterday and the day before that. And since it was Sabbath, I was doubly blessed. I was able to take part in a musical program, sang two beautiful songs and the next day, had a party with the young ones.

Actually, if I haven't come to this part of the world, I won't know at all that many observe Christmas way past the new year, unlike most countries who do so on December 25th. And I'm glad to be ending all these holiday-making (from December 25th to the New Year to January 7th) with the thought of Christ's first advent. And the reason why I'm still here. Here, anywhere in this world. And why I'm waiting, so earnestly for Jesus' second coming.

Wellspring of Life

The temperature continues to fall as we draw closer to the heart of winter. And as it does, life throbs on unperturbed at its harshness and chill. Some may wonder how one stays cheery, much more passionate at the constant onslaught of coldness and terribly inhumane treatment. But there's something I want to tell you today.

The wellspring of life--- the heart--- stays warm as you guard and care for it.

Today has been an interesting day for me, not because of some big event or happening, but because of the bits and pieces that make up life. I had a conversation with my teen friends about the new year, growing old and something about fellowship/friendship/relationship. Here's what happened after they filed into the classroom bringing with them the mud from the melting snow. (We laughed as we saw how the floor was turned into something resembling that of a rice paddy with the amount of mud the teens' boots brought in.)

"So, are you, guys, looking forward to the new year?" I asked, thinking that everybody must be as excited as I am at the thought of the coming new year. I didn't expect the reply.

"No."

"No?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "Why?" I wanted to know what was so terrible about the coming year that my teen friends are not so happy about it. More difficult schoolwork? Loads more homework? A national exam to face? What? The response stumped me further.

Beauty

Li'l Angelika in a costume made
by my late mother, when I was away
 and unable to be with my daughter,
a few days before 'the storm'.

Beauty
is not found in heavily made up ladies,
Neither in the sparkling diamonds or glitters of gold
Brimming from necks and limbs;
Nor in the latest models of gadgets or antiques of old,
Strings of possessions and processions of things.

Beauty---
if you care to look--- is in the eyes
Of one where joy resides, see as she smiles
At the future in this ocean of life,
Facing with mirth its every ebb of tide,
Grateful, joyful for every unexpected love
Committed on the vow she made to the One above.

A Plot for Joy

So as winter rolls around, I find myself restless for change. Unaware, I tried to hasten to change the status quo. I guess, I'm tired of the usual dance of one step forward, two steps backward. I'm impatient for progress to happen. I mean, snow has fallen (again), but the same drama is playing.

I am less inclined now to watch movies or TV series that have dramatic tones. Who needs it when one is living it? Who needs tearjerking scenes when tears are one's bedfellow? I am smack dab into emotional scenes complete with screaming, tears, intrigues, manipulations, exaggerations, and characters that are way too colorful to be normal. If I have guts, I would be writing about my current life and make it into a movie. It is just too intriguing, with a plot... ah, the plot... that goes nowhere.

And that's why I want change. There has to be a way out of this cage of a plot!

Armor Up!

I woke up this morning feeling weak. But not just in body because I mostly lack sleep, but much more in spirit. There's a discouraging feel in the air. Stressed out by highly noxious people and the care of active children, I can understand where the feeling comes from. There are concerns, too, weighing on my mind. All temporal, I know. And some are even far out in the future.

What a loony, you may say. But how many of us often gets weighed down by worries and the negativity of those around us that we often fail to take off even as our day does? Many, I would say.

Today, someone I know has her heart broken. And another was quiet because she is worried of something that still will happen in the coming month. Then, there's someone who can't sleep...

Each a different person, but it sure sounds like one. Me.

On a deeper level, we all have been there--- had our hearts broken, worried to silence, and robbed of our precious sleep. It's no wonder that we wake up already tired and spent. And the day has just began.

I can't help but see in us a warrior, vulnerable and defenseless, even as the war wages on mercilessly and without end. Every morning waking up knowing there's a battle to do, but already spent and worn out. What is left in store for us? Logically, defeat.

But, wait! It's not yet over.

Am I On The Right Road?

It has been raining for several days. The skies are overcast with dark clouds, the atmosphere is dripping with rain and seldom does the sun take a peep just to say hello. When it does, it disappears so quickly that I had a feeling it has gone shy or is trying to be mysterious by hiding behind the curtains of the rain.

I cannot imagine being out there in that rain for a long period, drenched and in need of a good wring. But I do have an idea.

When I was in Seoul, Korea, I went out with a small group of young people from our church consisted of men, with the exception of myself, to climb Mt. Seorak. Seoraksan, as it is called, is the third highest mountain in Korea. The ladies decided not to go as they had seen that the weather was raining and predicted that it won't be worth the effort to go up. But I thought that I won't be in Korea forever and that may be my only chance to explore a new place and do something interesting--- climb Korea's most beautiful mountain. My companions were worried for me but I assured them that if I get too much of a burden, then they just have to leave me. For which, they shook their heads vigorously. Being a foreigner, my life was in their hands.

I'm Coming Home!: Helping a Child with Trauma

A storm is brewing in the horizon as I'm writing this. And my husband is looking for the cat before it gets caught in it. The sky is in different shades of iron, from silvery gray to almost black. It is awesome to watch it. Through the windows from the safety of the house.

We were outside a few hours ago, as the kids and I often are one or two times in a day, to simply play and breath in fresh air. But the wind was blowing so vigorously, even throwing sand into our faces, that it got me thinking that if we were in the Philippines, we would've been in a dangerous situation just being outside. All kinds of stuff would have been flying around already. It brought to mind "the storm that changed my life".

Well, it was not only me who remembered that. Because as I was waking up my biggest girl, who was enjoying the last remaining days of her vacation sleeping in before she starts school again in a couple of days, responded to my cheery "Good morning!" as I drew the curtains, "The weather is scary!" And what can I say to that? To someone whose recurring nightmares, especially when awake, consists of whipping winds, floods, and being alone?

Life Lessons to Learn from Young Children

Hello dears! 

The following is a guest post from Helen Huynh. We are blessed to have her writing for us today. Enjoy! (Find out more about her at http://homemadejoys.com/)



There were numerous times when I would stop what I do and just watch my children play. A smile would form in my face as I whisper a 'thank you' to the Maker who entrusted them to me because everyday I marvel at the blessings my young ones bring into our home. How silly of me to think I am here to teach them lessons and show them how to live life just because I am MOM. I realize that I learn from my little ones just as much as they learn from me. Each day I spend with them, I see some of life’s most valuable lessons.

How children become so adorable and so full of life, I have no idea. All I know is they give life more meaning. Even before they could speak, they teach. How? By the way they live. Here are my favorite life lessons that all of us could learn from young children: