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I wrote this poem five years ago for my granddaughter. She is now ten years old and still loves the Lord and proudly wears christian t-shirts to school as a witness of that love. Sylvia's Table Grace We all sat down to supper It was time to say the grace When her big, brown eyes got bigger And a smile lit up her face I'll say it, Grammy, she replied Feet wiggling beneath the table And I wondered at the age of five If she was truly able She put her little hands together As we closed our eyes And what I heard from those small lips Caught me by surprise She prayed just like a dear old saint Who'd known the Lord for years And when she said, Amen and smiled It brought my heart to tears I realized that day That she was young but very smart She already knew the Lord And He was living in her heart A child-like faith and willingness Earn His approving face The two things well remembered From Sylvia's table grace Copyright © 2003 Linda Oliver
Tags: Prayer Poem Thanksgiving Grace
Not Alone Anymore She pulled back the gingham checked curtains While sipping her afternoon treat A hot cup of chamomile tea in her hand As she looked down both sides of the street Just another blue Monday for Mazie Been so long since she'd had someone near Her husband was gone and the kids were too busy To visit and bring her some cheer If only someone would stop for an hour It would keep her from being so lonely But all that she had was her tea by the window And all of her thoughts of..If only She was startled to hear the front door bell ring As she wheeled to the door with a smile God had answered the plea of a lonely old woman Sent someone to visit awhile Making her way to the door best she could She wished her wheelchair would go faster Mazie opened the door..not alone anymore Angels took her to be with the Master Copyright (c) 2001 Linda Oliver
Tags: Monday Loneliness Poetry Elderly
Happy Birthday Little Brother
Fifty-six years ago today my brother was born. I was four. My mother said I came running into the room and jumped up on the bed and demanded to know where my baby ''bruver'' was. It broke her heart to have to tell me that he was in heaven. He was born with one lung collapsed and the other one filled with fluids, so that he only lived on this earth two short days.Mom could have no other kids, so I grew up alone. I can't say I was abused..not physically anyway, but words can leave scars no one sees.All my life I wished I had been the one who died instead of Jeff, my brother. I miss him. I have one picture of him lying in a tiny white casket. Every year on his Birthday I ask God to tell him Happy Birthday and give him a hug and tell him it's from his big Sis.I wrote this poem a few years back for him. I'd like to share it with you if I may. Little Brother..Happy Birthday and I'll see you soon.
To My Brother Happy birthday little brother Another year has come and gone It's been a long long time now Since our Father called you home Each year I ask my Father Give my brother just from me A happy birthday and I love him For I miss him so you see This year seemed so much harder I don't know the reason why When I asked the Lord to tell you I began to tremble and cry I miss you little brother But I look forward to the day When we'll run through fields of clover And I'll kiss your precious face Up there we'll be together Never more to be apart But until then I'll hold you close Deep within my heart
Tags: Brother Birthday Remembrance
I had almost forgotten this, but after 9-11 happened, I sat down and penned this poem. I post it today in remembrance. Home of the Free America shaken once again By another senseless act People losing precious lives In a terrorist suicide pact Today is burned in the memory Of everyone in this great land But America still will not crumble For together, united she stands Old glory will still ever wave In the midst of this terrible strife Saluting the brave, gallant soldiers Who today have given their life God, lay Thy hand on this nation Let her seek consolation in Thee Turn this tragedy into a triumph For America, home of the free Copyright (c) 2001 Linda Oliver
Tags: Poetry Remembrance 9-11
I lost both my Dad and my Grandmother in 2001. Sandwiched between the two was the tragedy of 9-11 and the horrific aftermath. Death and carnage were on a grand scale. We were glued to our television sets for weeks. Memorials and remembrances were held everywhere and the people that died were haled as heroes. People were angry that their loved ones were taken from them in such an untimely manner. The world cried for those they had never met and vowed they would never be forgotten. The world never cried for my Dad and Grandmother. They were taken from me. They may not have died as violent a death as others did, but death, nevertheless claimed them too. I cried with and for the families of 9-11. No one cried with me. So on this day when we remember those who lost their lives to such a cruel, unspeakable act...I remember and salute not only those who died, and their families...I remember and salute also my beloved Father and Grandmother...because...they were important too.
Tags: Remembrance Deaths
Jimmy's Prayer He slipped in through the church door Took an empty seat in the last pew Thinking that it would be all right If he could just keep out of view The dirty overcoat that he wore in Was so ragged, thin and torn And the old shoes on his tired feet Were all dusty, scuffed and worn Dear Jesus, This here is Jimmy I just come to talk to You awhile I don't have much to offer You 'Cept maybe a handshake and a smile You can see my clothes are all ragged And I don't have no place to live But the love I feel for You right now Is worth more than I could ever give I know You always loved me 'Cause that street preacher told me so He said if I would give my heart to You Up there to heaven I could go He whispered, Lord, You know I'm dyin' And I ain't got long to live So Lord, if it would be all right with You Would ya take this ole heart I give? Now I know that I ain't perfect But preacher told me You didn't care 'Cause You laid down Your life for me To make the debt I owe ya square There ain't never been nobody That ever treated me that kind So Lord, I'm givin' You my heart today If Your sure You wouldn't mind He leaned back in the pew With a smile of joy etched on his face As the angels came to carry him home Into the presence of God's grace Jimmy's prayer was plain and simple But it came straight from the heart If you've never learned to trust the Lord Then maybe now's the time to start Copyright 2001 Linda Oliver
Tags: Poetry
I didn't have the greatest childhood growing up, but there are a few good memories I have and this is one of them. When I was probably around ten or twelve years old. Mom had this cheap, little old guitar (I don't even remember now, how she came by it..probably traded something for it) and she taught herself how to play, by ear. In the evenings after supper was over and the dishes were all washed up, she would go get out the guitar and start strumming on it. I would curl up at her feet and listen to some wonderful old songs that told a story and grabbed you by the heart. She would sing..A jewel on earth, a jewel in heaven. She'll brighten the kingdom around God's great throne..a song about a Godly mother. Then she would sing "Old Shep" a song about a boy and his dog, who went everywhere with him. That was one of my favorites, but I guess my very favorite one was "Rocking Alone in an Old Rocking Chair". Some of it goes like this..I know of some kids in an old orphan's home, who'd think they owned heaven if she were their own. They'd never neglect her or let her sit there, rockin' alone in an old rockin' chair. I can't count the times I would get goosebumps as Mama sang those old tear-jerking songs like "Little Rosewood Casket", "Jimmy Brown", "Long Black Veil"..songs that left a wonderful, lasting memory. Thanks, Mama.
Tags: Memories Songs Mama
I was reading Nanzee's blog this morning and am grateful that she may have helped save a life. It DOES feel good to know that your life has, I believe, divinely intersected with another human being to help in time of need. I write Christian poetry and believe God has inspired what I write. A few years back I wrote a poem called..Bridge of Love. I had posted it online at a few places never dreaming that it would be the saving grace of a person on the brink of suicide. A man emailed me to thank me for writing it. You see, he had been fighting with his wife and I believe she had left him or was in the process of leaving him and he was so depressed and troubled in mind that he was thinking of taking his life when he came across my poem. It changed his mind and turned his life around. How good is God to allow me to have a part in the changing of a young man's life..helping him see there is hope. I don't believe it was luck for Nanzee to be in the shoutbox when someone needed her, just as I don't believe it was coincidence that I wrote a poem that changed a suicidal man. It was the hand of God working in both situations. This is the poem God used, and I give Him all the honor: Bridge of Love He sat behind the wheel Of his old '57 chevy Contemplating suicide Headed for the levee He could see the river From his car up on the ridge Danger signs were posted Where once there was a bridge Jesse had been drinking His mind was so unclear But alcohol would help him To overcome the fear His life had not been easy Too harsh to understand The only love he'd known Was the back of daddy's hand Mom had left him years ago She never really cared That he was just a little boy Small, alone and scared He grew up the hard way Knowing only pain and strife Tonight all would be over When Jesse took his life As he started up the engine There flashed a brilliant light Wiping tears away he saw Someone robed in white Jesse this is Jesus I come to bring you life I love you and I'm here for you To end your pain and strife Give Me your wounded heart And let go of the past In Me you will find healing For My love will always last Tonight Jesse came to Jesus Praise be to God above For Jesus came to Jesse And built a bridge of love Dedicated to those who are standing on the edge thinking there is no way out of this pain. Jesus can come and build you a bridge of love. Copyright 2001 Linda Oliver
Tags: Saving Life Writing
Joined in God
"As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing" (2 Cor. 6:10).
Sorrow was beautiful, but her beauty was the beauty of the moonlight shining through the leafy branches of the trees in the wood, and making little pools of silver here and there on the soft green moss below.
When Sorrow sang, her notes were like the low sweet call of the nightingale, and in her eyes was the unexpectant gaze of one who has ceased to look for coming gladness. She could weep in tender sympathy with those who weep, but to rejoice with those who rejoice was unknown to her.
Joy was beautiful, too, but his was the radiant beauty of the summer morning. His eyes still held the glad laughter of childhood, and his hair had the glint of the sunshine's kiss. When Joy sang his voice soared upward as the lark's, and his step was the step of a conqueror who has never known defeat. He could rejoice with all who rejoice, but to weep with those who weep was unknown to him.
"But we can never be united," said Sorrow wistfully.
"No, never." And Joy's eyes shadowed as he spoke. "My path lies through the sunlit meadows, the sweetest roses bloom for my gathering, and the blackbirds and thrushes await my coming to pour forth their most joyous lays."
"My path," said Sorrow, turning slowly away, "leads through the darkening woods, with moon-flowers only shall my hands be filled. Yet the sweetest of all earth-songs--the love song of the night--shall be mine; farewell, Joy, farewell."
Even as she spoke they became conscious of a form standing beside them; dimly seen, but of a Kingly Presence, and a great and holy awe stole over them as they sank on their knees before Him.
"I see Him as the King of Joy," whispered Sorrow, "for on His Head are many crowns, and the nailprints in His hands and feet are the scars of a great victory. Before Him all my sorrow is melting away into deathless love and gladness, and I give myself to Him forever."
"Nay, Sorrow," said Joy softly, "but I see Him as the King of Sorrow, and the crown on His head is a crown of thorns, and the nailprints in His hands and feet are the scars of a great agony. I, too, give myself to Him forever, for sorrow with Him must be sweeter than any joy that I have known."
"Then we are one in Him," they cried in gladness, "for none but He could unite Joy and Sorrow."
Hand in hand they passed out into the world to follow Him through storm and sunshine, in the bleakness of winter cold and the warmth of summer gladness, "as sorrowful yet always rejoicing."
"Should Sorrow lay her hand upon thy shoulder,
And walk with thee in silence on life's way,
While Joy, thy bright companion once, grown colder,
Becomes to thee more distant day by day?
Shrink not from the companionship of Sorrow,
She is the messenger of God to thee;
And thou wilt thank Him in His great tomorrow
For what thou knowest not now, thou then shalt see;
She is God's angel, clad in weeds of night,
With 'whom we walk by faith and not by sight.'" From Streams in the Desert Written by Mrs. Charles Cowman
Tags: Devotional Story Joy Sorrow
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