pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Christ

SHE CALLS HERSELF AN ADDICT

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I suppose when cravings for poison
introduced in past moments of pain
threaten to pull you to ocean’s floor
and you remember the relief of
oxygen to your lungs,
you might find it irresistible, this temptation to
breathe –

even if it is one breath.
Even if it threatens
to fill your lungs with death.

But she –
she would rather not breathe

than return to the venom her body craves.
She would rather hold her breath,
while waiting for her Redeemer
to meet her in the depths.
To lift her face.
To breathe life to her very soul.

She calls herself an addict.

I call her a child of the God who Saves.
I call her brave.
I call her inspiring.

I call her friend.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

MY STRENGTH AND MY SONG

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“The Lord is my strength and my song; he has given me victory. This is my God, and I will praise him —  my father’s God, and I will exalt him!”  (Exodus 15:2)

My Strength and My Song

When weakness takes me to my knees,
My Father’s arms will lift me.
When terror causes me to freeze,
His truths set all my fears free.

My Father’s Son became my Lord
When I was just a child.
To Trinity’s melodious chord,
My soul was reconciled.

I feel His might.  I hear His voice –
Astounding grace extended
From One whose love compelled His choice:
From Heav’n above, descended.

He is my strength.  He is my song.
I hear His vict’ry ringing!
He’s held my heart my whole life long –
How can I keep from singing?

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Cadence and final line are both from the Christian hymn “My Life Flows On,” often attributed to Robert Lowry (1826-1899)

NOTHING LOST

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As I embrace One who was slain,
and forfeit self,
what will I gain?
Eternal life in Christ is mine
not of my self,
but His design.
His agony, my boundless gain
corrupted self
cannot attain.
In death to self I gain no loss
my life secured
on Calvary’s cross.

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2012

“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self?” ~ Luke 9:24-25.

PUNK

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I sat at the left end of a long
cafeteria-like table.
No food before me,
no scent of food.
My eyes focused on something
in my hands, which
I cannot now recall.

Forward and to my right,
old fashioned, quilt-look, diner-style
double swinging doors
open.
I glance up
smile
glance back down,
before my heart quickens in my chest
and I look back up.

“Punk!” barely escapes my lips –
more air than voice
as our eyes engage –
His,
smiling, crinkling at the sides.
Mine,
misting as my lips quiver.

He comes to me,
his cadence the same as my heart
remembers.

“Punk!” barely escapes again
as we hug.
His scent and chuckle,
unchanged.
His breath moves my hair.

His familiar voice in my ear speaks only a few words:

“What do you want to know?”

An unexpected question.
My heart quickens again.
What do I need to know?

“Punk, I just want one more hug.”

He backs up
just enough for me to feel his warm hands
on my cheeks.
I can see only his smiling eyes.
I look into them, and see
everything.

It can’t be explained any other way.

Everything.

In less than a moment.
Everything that ever was
seen
felt
heard
known
unknown,
is now
ever will be.

The beauty of it all filled me full.
Left me no words.

He gave me one last hug,
walked to the double doors,
glanced back with those smiling eyes,
and walked back through.

And the living live the here and now,
but those who have passed
and are alive in Christ,
know.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

WHAT GOD IS THIS?

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Nativity by Gertrude Kasebier c 1901

Following the angel’s appearance months ago,
A young woman – mystified, yet willing –

Subjected herself to ridicule

While readying for the baby whose presence

Began making itself evident.
 

Then came the night
On the heels of a long and arduous journey

In humbleness of setting and witness.
 

How prepared was the young woman’s weary body
And emotion-laden heart

For the miracle of birth,
Let alone this Miracle of Birth – this holy night

That culminates in pulling her newborn son to her breast,

Offering life-giving milk

To the very One who created life,

And came to offer it eternal.
 

What God is this who would choose this humble,
Implausible means

Out of love for a sinner?
 

My God. 

My God…

 

©  2013, Marie Elena Good

A WEEK IN HAIKU

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Photo by Keith R. Good

 

“… for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning.”  ~ Lamentations 3

 

Dawn’s light emerges,
Hastening a new week’s cares.
Her knees, eroding.

Vivid moss roses
Flamboyant ruby hummers
Adore(n) her prayer walk

A murky morning.
Gloom seems to silence nature.
A still, small Voice calls.

The sun failed to rise,
She believes.  And so she seeks
Son’s radiant grace.

Unsettling dream
Halted by sound of music
Caroled in her heart

Her heart feels absent;
Her spirit, arid and parched.
A gentle rain falls.

As dusk’s light withdraws,
She reaches out for His hand,
And there, finds her heart.

 

© Marie Elena Good

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