"He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle." – Isaiah 42:3
Max and I head outside for a little exercise and some fresh air. We just had a heavy snowfall. The snow is deep enough so that a footprint sinks in only to reveal more snow. Everything is covered in puff-white. Snow bends and curves down the branches of trees, and I spot leaves that have fallen, still cradling the ice in their tiny hands.
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I can see mountains from my window. They’re like a painting dusted with peaches and purples. It’s late in the day, and I can hear the wind whooshing as the clouds move swiftly by. As the sun descends, the mountain peaks hold onto the last bit of glow that it offers. I know that from here, those mountains appear to be only dust, rock, and trees, but there is a bounty of life there.
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Behold, one came to him and said, ‘Good teacher, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?’ He said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but one, that is, God.'”
Matthew 19:16-17a, WEB
At first glance, in the verses above it may seem like Jesus is telling the man that He is not God, and therefore, doesn’t deserve to be called good, but in fact the Bible reveals that Jesus is God, so it was appropriate for the man to address Him as “good.” So what did Jesus’ response mean?
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Hi All,
My first book, A Little Book of Poetry: For When Night Seems Dark is now available at my new online store, Good Courage Greetings. I created Good Courage Greetings with a desire to create and share custom-made goods that speak to the heart (greeting cards, books, (and mugs – coming soon!)). I hope you’ll visit the site when you have a chance and take a look around.
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Have You Something I Can Hold On To?
Have You something I can hold on to
when the wind is working to carry the trees away?
And what am I to do when my boat is half sunk?
I am hopeful for morning,
but when it comes it brings gray
No sun I can see
peeking over mountains,
not today.
At Rest
I love what You’ve made
every creature I see
the tan, furry face
the content, buzzing bee
the flowers that open
on the branch of a tree
and the doves that dive low
overhead, over me
Only A Branch
I am only a branch
I am moved by the wind
When a bird finds my perch
I am likely to bend
Snow
It is icy up here
and the night has been long
I haven’t heard cheer
or the little bird’s song
the dark makes it colder
oh, the shadows of night
I’m not seeing gladness
or the little bird’s flight
An Adventure Story
There is no such thing
As a heroic tale
That ends at the start
Without wind or sail
Grief
There are some things that we have not shared with another
the things that make different, us one from the other
They boiled our blood, they changed us within
so that never would we be back where we had been
