I see her, tirelessly working, pleasing, and creating as the image of my grandmother finds its way through my tangled, grief stricken thoughts. As winter's chill comes, the trees, now leafless, stretch down their long branches toward her. I see her struggle, as the icy fingers of death seek to take hold. She becomes weak and weathered, her bones grow tired. yet she is still working, pleasing and creating; my image does not fade.
My picture grows as I see her bring the tender light of love and beauty to all who know her. I can feel the warmth in her smile,k her laugh, and her joy. Never ceasing to love and cherish, to bless and provide, to worship and praise, I see a godly women I have always admired. I see her working, pleasing, and creating; my image does not fade.
As death comes again, its icy breath whispers in her ear and she passes from this life. Yet on that day, the sun shown clear lighting the world and casting colorful. rays across the land. Death is mocked. Where, oh death, is your victory? Where, oh death, is your sting? Though she is gone, your battle is not won. Her Father's love for her has pierced the darkness like the dawn and I fill with joy as she finds eternity. As my thoughts begin to stray and my hand begins to fade, I understand the truth: because He has conquered death, I still see her working, pleasing, and creating; my image does not fade.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
A few months ago, my English teacher had my class describe a rock that he put on a desk in class. We went around the room again and again spouting out adjectives until the board was completely covered. After we were done, our homework was to write a page describing the rock...without using any of the words on the board!! After much thought, this is what I came up with...
I can remember the image well. My grandfather trudging through the snow, every few minutes stopping to rest his tired bones. Tired, a word I never would have used to describe him, yet now, inescapable. I see him struggle, while the icy fingers of death seek to reach out and grasp him. I am stunned. Once regal, he is now bent and mis-shapen. He was always mighty, facing the storms of life with a bold confidence. Yet as time has come and gone, his once solid body has become fragile as though he could fall apart with the clap of thunder, or the rush of wind.
As I watch, he gropes through the snow, the icy trees above him stretch down their long fingers. I remember him a sturdy structure, like a boulder on the craggy terrain of life. Unshakable.
Though weak and drained, he will always resemble , no matter how faint, that sturdy being I remember. I watch as he stands motionless as though listening to the inner workings of the world. The hues of his skin, changed with time, appear pale in the light of the snow.
Though much time has passed, and much of him has changed, I will always see him as a foundation, a great structure in an inconsistent world.
I can remember the image well. My grandfather trudging through the snow, every few minutes stopping to rest his tired bones. Tired, a word I never would have used to describe him, yet now, inescapable. I see him struggle, while the icy fingers of death seek to reach out and grasp him. I am stunned. Once regal, he is now bent and mis-shapen. He was always mighty, facing the storms of life with a bold confidence. Yet as time has come and gone, his once solid body has become fragile as though he could fall apart with the clap of thunder, or the rush of wind.
As I watch, he gropes through the snow, the icy trees above him stretch down their long fingers. I remember him a sturdy structure, like a boulder on the craggy terrain of life. Unshakable.
Though weak and drained, he will always resemble , no matter how faint, that sturdy being I remember. I watch as he stands motionless as though listening to the inner workings of the world. The hues of his skin, changed with time, appear pale in the light of the snow.
Though much time has passed, and much of him has changed, I will always see him as a foundation, a great structure in an inconsistent world.
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