God | pictured words

November 9, 2025

Sonnet for Lord, Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace

“Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.” ~ Anonymous(attributed to St. Francis of Assisi)

Sonnet for Lord, Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace

Of many writings I wish were my own,
this certainly resides among the best.
And while this poet’s name remains unknown,
their heart’s benevolence is manifest.

And oh to be an instrument of peace
And oh to harmonize with God’s great grace
No dissonance released from my mouthpiece
No notes omitted, wrestled, or misplaced

God likens clanging cymbals and loud gongs
to those who harbor hate within their soul.
I want to spill His love where there are wrongs –
the love that brings us peace and makes us whole.

Don’t want to be a cymbal or a gong –
Just long to harmonize with Him in song.

April 2, 2025

In these times (no poem, and no picture)

Dear all:

The first time I was eligible to vote, I registered as a democrat. I proudly/excitedly/confidently voted for Jimmy Carter. In the very next election, I registered republican to vote (shaking in my shoes) for Ronald Reagan. For much of my life, I’ve considered myself a conservative republican. After my party went too far right for me, and the democrats too far left, I haven’t known how to politically label myself. I have always voted my conscious – I have never been a party-line voter. I am, and always will be, a follower of Jesus Christ.

But in this time we are in, I am democrat. Not because I agree with everything they think and do. Not because I have seen them accomplish all they say they are about (because I haven’t, because they haven’t). But because I see them as the only path to restoring our checks and balances in this America I already no longer recognize.

In this time we are in, I am American. I am Ukrainian, Syrian, Lebanese, Haitian, Afghani, Iranian, Iraqi, Sudanese, Somalian, Canadian, Burundian, Mexican, Peruvian, Cuban, Brazilian, Nicaraguan, Venezuelan … you get the picture.

In this time we are in, I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I am Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, Buddhist, Shinto …

In this time we are in, I am female. I am male. I am straight. I am lesbian, gay, bi, trans, queer, she, he, they …

In this time we are in, I am a citizen of the United States of America. I am a refugee, a parolee, an asylee. I am legal, illegal, undocumented …

In this time we are in, I am innocent. I am guilty, convicted, chained, and imprisoned.

Why do I say I am all these, when clearly I am not?

When Jesus’s feet were on this earth, He showed love and compassion for all. Yes, He stood for righteousness. He didn’t waiver from purity and holiness, and He encourages us to do the same (though it is impossible for us). He was sinless in His thought life. He was sinless in His behavior. He was all-loving, all-just, wholly compassionate, wholly empathetic, and (please hear this), He was sinless in His compassion and empathy. It is in large part why He came.

As a follower of Jesus, it is my duty and my privilege to honor with dignity and compassion every person ever created. We are all created in the image of God. It is His way. It is what He flawlessly demonstrated, and will do so eternally.

May He help me … help my country … be more like Him.

With all sincerity,
Marie Elena

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January 12, 2025

SPLENDOR

SPLENDOR

An evening snow
of tiny glitter seems of
no real consequence.

Yet it’s all it takes
to blanket lawn, coat tree, and
hush and light the night –

its quiet splendor
reflecting the still, small voice
that sang its being.

© Marie Elena Good, 2025

1 Comment

August 28, 2022

Ears to Hear

She sits in silence,
listening for God to speak.
But she hears no one.

She sits in darkness,
watching for God’s appearance.
But she sees nothing.

She grasps at the air,
trying to feel God’s presence.
But she feels nothing.

She raises her voice.
“Abba! Father! Where are You?”
He, soundlessly, speaks.

She closes her eyes,
absorbing His attention,
knowing who He is. 

Her heart hears His voice
in both silence and sound. He
gives her ears to hear.

She opens her eyes
sees Him everywhere, in
all He created.

The air wraps her up,
blankets her in His shelter,
fills her lungs with Him.

She knows she is His.
She sees and hears and feels Him.
She knows what she knows.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

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May 29, 2022

17 syllables written on freedom

Never “not now,” I
curl into the lap of the
One who answers prayer.

#seventeenintwentytwo

For me, this is the hands-down greatest freedom of all.

January 3, 2021

A PLEA TO MY GOD

It’s time to unveil
a new year. Inhale fresh air,
and care for what’s there.

Let my voice take wing
to sing in the key of peace.
May mercy increase

where now there are chains.
Where cold-heartedness remains,
may warmth fill my veins.

Let love with no caps
gush compassion, not rationed
in morsels or scraps.

Make me teachable
and easily reachable
when You wish to speak.

Please help me seek You.
In new ways through this new year,
help me feel You near.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

2 Comments

December 16, 2020

CHRISTMAS CONTEMPLATION (Sonnet to Creator/Savior/King)

At Christmastime, reflecting on our God,
I see a rich and sumptuous show of grace.
A story so enthralling bids me laud
A baby boy, born in a lowly place.

God simply breathed, and life then came to be.
He spoke-spilled stars that move at His command.
He fashioned sand and man, and shell and sea,
This God who values meek, as well as grand.

So when it came to paying debt of sin,
He chose to do the grandest thing of all
In such a way that awes me deep within:
Majestic use of unforeseen, and small.

A vulnerable newborn was His means,
Born of a humble woman in her teens.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.” ~ Isaiah 7:14

“This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).” ~ Matthew 1:18-23

“She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” ~ Matthew 1:21

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June 28, 2020

MORNING’S OPEN WINDOW CALLS

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Photo by Keith R. Good

I see and hear the birds, the deer,
the kids that play across the way.
I feel the breeze, and watch the trees react,
and I make eye contact with Chickadee.
I smile as he rests on my sill.
Then I refill my coffee mug,
sit snug and still and know
the golden glow of morning sun,
and glorious One who made it rise
and harmonize with all I see
outside my window;
inside me.

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April 30, 2020

FROM HIM, THROUGH HIM, TO HIM (Sonnet to my God)

Photo by Daniel Reche, courtesy of Pixabay

Oh, stillness deep within me, never wane
when chaos saturates the world without.
I know the very God who sees and reigns –
whose still, small voice speaks peace, and quiets doubt.

He gave mankind a gnawing in our soul
that won’t be satisfied without His will.
And only He can quench that thirsty hole;
and only through His food, we get our fill.

At times, my praise rings sonorous and strong,
and springs from nourished soul that feeds on Him.
At times my praise, just weak and weary song,
seeps sluggishly from apathy within.

Oh, Father, fill me up when I am drained,
and may my praise be endless; unrestrained.

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October 6, 2019

A HOLY HUSH

Photo by Keith R. Good

Sleep came,
but the dreams that accompanied it
were disturbing
and all I could do was pray for peace
as worry for her threatened to devour me.
Disquiet was my life for months

and months

and months.

Then one night I found myself
walking a path of undisturbed snow.
The moon was my only light –
just enough to illumine the path,
glisten against the falling snowflakes,
and reveal the immense evergreen forest.
There was silence,
save the calming crunch
of snow beneath my feet.
I walked the breathtaking beauty all night,
accompanied by One who knows me intimately –

the only One who offers stillness
in the midst of turbulence.

“… and he said to the sea, ‘Peace, be still.’ And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.” ~ Mark 4:39

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