GETTING OLD

What does it really mean to be old?
Getting grumpy, grizzly, and gray, I am told!
The clock is ticking and the minutes have been sold.
Looking back, let's summarize, if we may be so bold.

Babies are sweet, but kids not so much.
I'm starting to limp, I may need a crutch.
I'd like to play games but I'm losing my touch.
My teeth will now barely let me munch!

The Thief, he breaks in, joy to steal.
The Liar, he comes, only to kill.
But, I know the Shepherd, keeps me He will.
All for my good, this I know, I solidly feel!

Friends that I've known have already gone.
Plans that I've made will never get done?
Time is a liar, a cheat, and a con.
Night is coming fast, but then it will be Dawn!

A better place is coming or so I have heard.
A new body, forever young, so says the Word.
Soon this will be over, such I have pondered.
How glorious will it be?! this I have wondered!

I want to hear those angels sing!
Around, and above him on fiery wing.
Not all I know, but this I'm figuring,
We will be there, beholding the King!

THE TWO SHALL BECOME ONE

(happy Valentine's Day, MC)

So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then the man said, "This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man." Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.

Genesis 2:21‭-‬24 ESV

It was noticed, "Nobody for the man ..."

Surely, this is not the ideal plan?!

Provide a remedy for this, "I surely can!"

And this is how romance, amour began!

Named all the beasts from all the world wide.

But sitting alone, the silence, I cannot abide.

My rib is gone! There's a pain in my side?!

No longer alone; naked? where can we hide?

Laughing, in the garden, together we play.

Never an option, from Him we would stray?

Then came the Snake; lies he did say!

"Take a bite; there's no need to obey ..."

Together we wander, somewhere east of the gate.

The thorns, the pain, the heat are our cursed fate.

To our garden, will we ever return? Or, is it too late?

Let's stick together! Forever, you are my mate!

Through the darkness and in the cold,

At least we have each other to hold!

He blessed us with, at least this, in days of old.

There's a refuge ahead, or so it is told.

Towards the light on that far away hill,

Hold my hand! Make it there we will!

Look into my eyes, hope, the love will instill.

Together, what one lacks, the other will fill.

A song will again resound from our redeemed voice!

Hold my hand, onward together, the only sound choice,

By and by in paradise we will dance and rejoice.

Our cups filled with heavenly nectar, together we'll hoist!

THE JOURNEY

Three and four generations of family and friends, fellow believers, a caravan, like Jacob, his sons, and their families, we are on a journey.  Egypt is but a stopover, not the Promised Land.  Keep us faithful, journeying through this wilderness to the Promised Land!

Sometimes we fuss and feud over trails, campsites, even firewood.  But, we are headed in the same direction, mostly.  Lord, bless the strugglers and the wanderers and the quitters!

There are daily foraging tasks and water carrying.  Sometimes kids get to throwing apples or berries.  Worse, occasionally the water trips turn into skinny-dipping mistakes.

There have been a few that went off on foraging assignments, and they kept on going, collecting barrels of food that they just keep rolling along, but not sharing.  They just wandered away, and forgot about the journey.  We hear from them; they write notes to us, rarely, but they are going a different direction.  Really, they have just squatted in the wilderness.  What can be done?  They have lost sight of the destination towards which we journey.  No amount of urging or waving goodbye seems to help.

A few have gotten so busy playing at waterholes, that they refuse to move on, when we break camp to continue on the journey.  They were last seen splashing around and lounging on the sandy banks.  We had to stay focused and moved on.  We called and pleaded, to no good results. But, rarely a swimmer walks up from behind us on our trail.  That is such a joyful day!

We need daily bread, and cups of cold water, for sure.  But, the journey must be kept in the forefront of our life?!  Sidetrails lead nowhere good.  As we sit around the campfires, looking up into the night sky, gazing at the stars, awed at the rare shooting star, we sing songs about the journey.  Lord, tune our hearts to sing your praise!  And, Lord, bless the strugglers and the wanderers and the quitters!

"Here we are but straying pilgrims ..."

Here we are but straying pilgrims;
Here our path is often dim;
But to cheer us on our journey,
Still we sing this wayside hymn:

Refrain

Yonder over the rolling river,
Where the shining mansions rise,
Soon will be our home for ever,
And the smile of the blessèd Giver
Gladdens all our longing eyes.

Here our feet are often weary
On the hills that throng our way;
Here the tempest darkly gathers,
But our hearts within us say:

Refrain

Here our souls are often fearful
Of the pilgrim’s lurking foe;
But the Lord is our defender,
And He tells us we may know:

Refrain

https://hymnary.org/text/here_we_are_but_straying_pilgrims

https://youtu.be/oRmZJ0O2swY

WHERE IS SHE?

What a lonely man he surely must be.
That could have, just as well, been me?!
His grandkids on Facebook pictures I see.
But, if it is really him, where is she?!

Her picture, there she is; it's surely them, then!
but, then, captioned, "Happy Birthday, in heaven ..."
In this life, he will never hold her again.
Invading my soul, "such for me? Never! maybe? when?!"

This FB thing suggests possible friends, a long list?!
Some forgotten, some not even missed.
Life has moved on with many a twist.
Life, but vapor; too soon gone, a morning mist.

Enjoy the friends that He gives, while you can!
Too soon it washes away, footprints in the sand.
What is it all about? But dust is man?!
He writes our story with His own hand.

So, take the time to enjoy, deeply, the best.
Shove aside the wrong , and all the rest.
The clock is ticking on this earthly test.
Give thanks for much; He has surely blessed!