Snow Swirling on a Cold Winter’s Day

The low clouds move in fast,

Across the face of the Sandias.

One moment the mountain is visible

And the next it is gone.

Hidden in deep clouds.

Snow begins to fall,

Swirling in the wind

Falling in spiral

Cold in my bones,

Down to the core.

Softly it falls,

Frail little snowflakes

Dancing to the earth

Then fading from sight.

Winter so cold,

Like death

Nothing stirs

Birds huddle close

On frozen lines

Too cold to seek food

Miserable birds,

Snow swirling around them,

How they yearn,

For spring

Like I yearn for home,

A sure hope,

But a long wait.

I wait with them,

Cold in my bones

Down to the core

As the snow softly swirls

In the winter wind.

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Today My Friend Buries Her Son

Today my friend buries her son,

He was 23 years old,

Handsome and vibrant,

Beautiful brown eyes,

He reminds me of my Adam,

One day everything was normal,

And the next he was gone.

And today she lays him in the ground.

What words of comfort can one offer

For such a time as this?

Words escape me,

Therefore I pray,

That the sorrow in my soul

Will rise up on wings

And fly to her

And she will know

That I weep….

The death of a child

To lay them in the ground

Is a deep fear of mine

Darkness fought against

Prayers upon prayers

Lifted to the heavens

On knees

Face down on floor

I know this fear

But I know not the reality.

Today my friend lives this reality

And buries her beloved son.

What comfort can I offer

What comfort is there

When one lays a child in the ground

Such things should not be

It is not normal

Should be the child

Laying us to rest

Words of comfort escape me

I have none

Only sorrow

And the hope, the sure hope

That You are there.

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I sit and watch the tears

slide slowly down her cheek,

Tears I have cried so many times,

I see them,

I feel them

as if they were mine,

For they are mine.

A mothers tears,

a mothers burden,

A heavy one,

pressing down hard,

Prayers expressed on bended knee,

Burdens pressing down,

They sap the strength,

They rip the very fabric of the soul,

Prayers expressed through tears that fall,

A mothers tears.

I see your tears,

They are mine.

Lets shed them together.

Lord hear our prayers,

Lord behold our tears,

Lord carry our burdens,

Lord grant us strength,

Lord heal our wounded souls,

Not for us Oh Lord,

But for our children we pray,

You who remember

the tears of a mother,

as she looked upon You,

Torn and bleeding,

Beautiful precious son,

Murdered on a bloody tree.

You spoke to the disciple,

Son behold your mother.

You see us,

You love us,

You hear us,

Our tears carefully collected,

In Your bottle.

We lay our children down,

at Your feet,

Because we believe,

Lord we believe.

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Winter Is Coming, Long Lonely Winter 

The snow crunches softly under his huge feet,

His thick black fur rustles softly in the frigid wind,

He sniffs the wind carefully,

His senses heightened,

He smells something, something in the wind,

He knows this scent,

it has crossed the nostrils of thousands of his ancestors across the length of history,

This is no rabbit he smells, no elk, nothing edible,

In fact this scent brings the foreboding knowledge that meat will be lacking,

It will be difficult, his brothers and sisters will suffer much,

They will labor long and hard for their prey.

This smell upon his nostrils, this scent in the wind,

It is winter, long hard brutal winter,

Deep snow drifts, iced over ponds,

Prey desperately digging for the frozen grass deep beneath the snow,

Winter is coming, long, lonely winter,

He lifts his head and howls,

Across the miles his brothers and sisters join him,

Great heads lifted to the night sky,

Howling, Howling, Howling,

Winter is coming, long hard winter,

Long, lonely winter,

Beware!

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Words

Words spoken fade upon the wind,

If lucky perhaps one or two will be remembered,

Or perhaps people will just say “she spoke often of this or that”

Without really remembering the words.

All those conversations,

All those attempts to get your message out,

Lost and forgotten for the most part,

Words spoken fade upon the wind.

Written words hold more hope,

They can capture your thoughts

And hold them for a time

Until said time and elements degrade them into dust.

I look back on my childhood,

Wishing I could go back

I would take notes this time

I would capture his words on paper.

I remember now how he tried so hard to impart his thoughts

Tried to put them into me, make them mine

He prayed for them to stick

But now, all I have is “he spoke often of this or that”.

The exact words are lost to me

Words spoken fade upon the wind

I wish I had paid more attention

Wish I had grasped the importance of it all.

So now I write words down,

In hopes that one day they will be read

That one day they will be cherished

That one day they will be understood.

Words spoken fade on the wind,

Words written crumble to dust over time,

But the Word of the Lord stands forever.

And that is enough for me.

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Winter

Days of winter,

Winds howling cold and bitter,

Birds huddled in trees,

Snow covered mountain top.

Brown dead vegetation,

Much like the hard times,

When you wait with baited breath,

For the warmth and promise of a new tomorrow,

The appearance of death,

At first glance,

But upon keen observation,

Life goes on,

The birds seek out food

The rabbits leave their tracks,

The coyotes sing in the winter night,

Inhale deep,

The cold crisp air,

Feel the wind cutting through your jacket,

Gaze upwards,

Into the cold dark winter night,

See the stars,

Brilliantly shining,

Inhale deep,

The cold crisp air,

Alive, life, even in the winter of things.

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Weathermen

 What strange creatures

These weathermen

Whose work is to predict

The coming day

I stand in

The swirling snow

Perplexed

As my weather app

Tells me zero %

Chance

Of precipitation.

Perhaps I alone

Am blessed to see

This falling snow

In dawns faint light

And the rest of the city

Is bathing in the warmth

Of the rising sun.

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Beautiful New Mexico

Mountain range

Covered in snow

Sun glinting on rugged peaks

Shining like gold in the evening light.

Spectacular beauty!

Brown fields of wild grass

Filled with wild geese

They take flight slowly

Like awkward teenagers

Then suddenly graceful in perfect unity they fly.

Black volcanic rock

As far as I can see

Rugged mesa, remnants of molten lava

Coyote headed out to hunt

Desolate beauty.

High mountain lakes,

Tall pines singing in the wind,

Utter stillness and peace,

Apart from the wind song.

A place to be still and know.

Lush green Valles Caldera

Formed from volcano

Elk roam wild and free

The herd stretched out

across the valley,

Takes your breath away.

Dark Night  of The Soul

I lay quietly upon my bed,

Gazing out the open window,

Darkness is upon the earth

With points of light shining

I see the light begin to reflect

Upon the crest of the mountain

As the sun begins its slow climb

The dark so cold and frigid

Earth awaits the warmth of sun

My life of late is like the day

Of darkness and of light

Sorrows in the deepest night

With points of light shining

And when it is more than I can bear

I see the light upon the crest of mountains

The Son of glory shining grace

He rises slow some times it seems

But then there are the times of noon

When His love and grace are clear

And I bask in His glory

But of late night always falls

Coming slowly, warmth fading

Replaced by fear and sorrow

Dark night of soul

Falls upon me

And I wait

I wait

I wait

For Son to come.

SUNDAY

Sunday

Blue skies

White fluffy clouds

Setting off for church

To worship the Lord Jesus

Such a beautiful fine winter day

A short prayer walk along the Bosque

Prepares my heart to worship Him in truth

Asking His blessings upon the service and the people

Giving Him the mornings disappointments that have offset my peace.

Watching the sun shine down through the cottonwood trees

Twisting mighty cottonwoods reaching up to the sky

Winding path through the golden brown grass

Calls and bids me walk along

Birds singing from tall trees

Gentle breeze blows past

As I walk

The Bosque

Today

A Poem About Love Without Saying Love

My heart fills with a warmth
my eyes fill with tears
my soul hurts within me
I am moved to do, to act, to move
to pray, to beseech the God of heaven...
to reach down and touch you.
I awake in the night with your name upon my heart
the God of everything reminding me to pray
for you, for your situation.
This gift, this burden, no wonderful trait of mine
to which I was born and cultivated over years,
It is nothing of me
It is all of Him
for He is ..........

I sit and watch the tears

slide slowly down her cheek,

Tears I have cried so many times,

I see them,

I feel them

as if they were mine,

For they are mine.

A mothers tears,

a mothers burden,

A heavy one,

pressing down hard,

Prayers expressed on bended knee,

Burdens pressing down,

They sap the strength,

They rip the very fabric of the soul,

Prayers expressed through tears that fall,

A mothers tears.

I see your tears,

They are mine.

Lets shed them together.

Lord hear our prayers,

Lord behold our tears,

Lord carry our burdens,

Lord grant us strength,

Lord heal our wounded souls,

Not for us Oh Lord,

But for our children we pray,

You who remember

the tears of a mother,

as she looked upon You,

Torn and bleeding,

Beautiful precious son,

Murdered on a bloody tree.

You spoke to the disciple,

Son behold your mother.

You see us,

You love us,

You hear us,

Our tears carefully collected,

In Your bottle.

We lay our children down,

at Your feet,

Because we believe,

Lord we believe.

Artwork by astarvinartist entitled A Mother's Tears

Poem by Donna Griego

His thick black fur rustles softly in the frigid wind,

He sniffs the wind carefully,

His senses heightened,

He smells something, something in the wind,

He knows this scent,

it has crossed the nostrils of thousands of his ancestors across the length of history,

This is no rabbit he smells, no elk, nothing edible,

In fact this scent brings the foreboding knowledge that meat will be lacking,

It will be difficult, his brothers and sisters will suffer much,

They will labor long and hard for their prey.

This smell upon his nostrils, this scent in the wind,

It is winter, long hard brutal winter,

Deep snow drifts, iced over ponds,

Prey desperately digging for the frozen grass deep beneath the snow,

Winter is coming, long, lonely winter,

He lifts his head and howls,

Across the miles his brothers and sisters join him,

Great heads lifted to the night sky,

Howling, Howling, Howling,

Winter is coming, long hard winter,

Long, lonely winter,

Beware!

A writing exercise asking for a poem regarding animals and weather predictions. It is said that he wolves howl long and hard when they sense a deep hard winter.

 “Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”  

   A few months ago I and my beloved became part of a small group of people who are assisting to launch a brand new church on the west side of Albuquerque. The church will be called Mosaic Church. I was given a beautiful red t-shirt that says " Bringing the beauty of Jesus Christ and His gospel to the broken places in our lives." That's what Mosaic Church's vision is. God taking the broken and forming them together into something beautiful, something glorious, something He will use to bless the community.

   We have been attending church plant meetings where we have discussed the various identifying factors that we want Mosaic to be seen as. The central part of the vision is the gospel of Jesus Christ, that is the key to Mosaic, that is how Mosaic will be known, as a church who portrays the gospel not only in the services but also in the community. Many words were offered up in our meetings, words that define how a church ought to be. One of them jumped out at me. It's the word REAL, or authentic. So with that in mind I shall leap out in faith, in an attempt to be real. Being real can hurt, because sometimes it impacts our image, that thing we grasp so tightly to, that thing that other's use to define us. But today, let's be brave, let's be real.

  I am in my fifties, and have been attending church for sometime. I have it fairly easy in that respect because the church I attend is way over on the far end of Albuquerque and it's a long drive. Work schedules do not permit me to take part in mid week activities. And I can easily use a multitude of excuses for not attending. So being a member has really been not much more than praying for my pastor and the leaders, giving my tithes and attending Sunday worship service. There, I confessed it, I have been a lazy church member for some time.

 Now I find myself caught up in this group of people, excited people, energetic people. They want to serve the community, they want to go out and attend events wearing shirts that proclaim the gospel, sharing the gospel in graceful and thoughtful ways and they radiate (to me at least) youth and life and vibrancy. That alone is pretty scary for a introvert female in her fifities.

  I'm not certain I can keep up with them, not certain if I can be of use to this vibrant young church full of youth and vigor. But I feel God calling me, and if He is calling me, then I trust He will supply all that is needed.

  So I sit down, strap in, and hold on...this ride is about to take off, it looks scary, but I expect it will be exciting, and beautiful......go Mosaic!

Join us for our first public service on Jan 10th 2016!

    I am troubled this morning, troubled for people whom God has brought into my life, people who are hurting, people who need help, people whose needs are so often overwhelming to me, needs that I simply cannot meet no matter how much I might yearn to do so. I am also troubled by the fact that I often feel so alone in trying to meet the needs of the suffering. Lord why do You bring all this into my life and then give me only prayers and desire and maybe a few dollars to try an meet an ocean of need? Why not lay this on someone like Donald Trump, or Mr. Facebook owner? Some days I almost feel like I slap folks in the face with my meager prayers and my fistful of crumpled dollars and I feel like some bedraggled beggar pleading for enough money to buy a cup of coffee on a cold day from strangers who really prefer not to be reminded of the need. I know in my heart that these thoughts are not true, yet oft times they plaque me still.

    I find myself often disappointed in my lack of ability to inspire passion and care. I feel like I spend a great deal of my time trying to inspire and yet feeling like a fingernail scrapping across a chalkboard, folks really just want that to stop, they really don't want to hear it. They tire of my constant blather,, enough already, put it to rest and say no more. After all, you cannot change the reality of what is so why beat yourself bloody trying to? My heart cries out to God, "Lord, am I making any difference at all ?"  Again, I know these thoughts are not truthful, nor are they helpful, but still I am often troubled by them.

   Last night I was deeply discouraged and retreated into my room to sit and read and to pray. I opened up my little book of Psalms and began to read. "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God." My problem is now defined. I have placed my trust and my hope in people. I am trying to inspire an army of people to defeat the problem. God doesn't often work like the world works. Numbers mean nothing at all to Him, He doesn't need armies. It doesn't matter if you are only one, or two, or a handful, if God places a burden on your heart then you run with it and you keep running and it doesn't matter who joins in. It is God who has called you to run and He will bring about His purpose. 

   Years ago I prayed a somewhat dangerous prayer....."Lord, break my heart with the things that break Yours." He has been faithful to answer it. There are days when I really do not want to care. Caring hurts. I have enough hurt with my own dear ones to last a lifetime, why take on more? Why shoulder the burden of another's cares? Why not take care of your own and forget the suffering of others, why not try on apathy and indifference?  Now in reflection I ask myself, do I really desire apathy, do I really want to be able to see the things I see, know the things I know and not be bothered by it? Do I really want to just live my life with my problems and the problems of those closest to me and not worry nor think about the suffering of others? 

   I can answer that with a resounding NO! I would rather be dead than to have a heart different than the one He gave me. He gave me empathy. He gave me a heart that soaks up suffering like some kind of super sponge. Over time it becomes saturated, unable to take in any more and it's times like that I need to remember to squeeze it all out and fill it back up with His promises, His love, His endurance, His grace, His mercy and then run right back out there and do it all over again. Again and again and again for as long as He gives me breath and life.

   I keep going back to the image of a large bucket in need of filling, and I equipped with what seems to be an eyedropper and a limited amount of water. As I transfer my drops, from the tiny cup I hold into the bucket it is easy to become discouraged. The bucket is huge, the water I have been given is limited and even if I expend every last drop of my cup into the bucket the bucket still looks empty. So why bother? Bother because it matters, one act of kindness even if it does not fully meet the need will touch the heart of the one in need. Sometimes that is all that is needed is for people to know somebody cares. Bother because before you started the bucket was empty, and now it has a little water in it. Bother because the God you serve once took a handful of fish and fed a crowd of thousands. Bother because He has asked you to transfer your meager water into someone else's giant bucket.

   The world cries out Apathy! Indifference! Take care of yourself and to hell with the world! You cannot make a difference so why bother?  Why get upset over things you cannot change? These are lies. There is nothing worse than apathy and indifference, selfishness kills and everyone has the power to make a difference. Your cup, my cup and the cup of a hundred more can fill that bucket.

   Our example is Christ, the Redeemer, the Suffering Servant, The Merciful One, His life is filled with examples of how we ought live.

   So I set out now, on this road called 2016 with my cup that overflows, and my eyedropper, with purpose in my step, with my eyes lifted to the One who holds all things together and I pray, I pray a prayer for 2016, for every soul upon this planet.

May we live with eyes wide open,

May God break our hearts with the things that break His,

May we unclench our hands and let some of the water He has given flow out to others,

May we live out mercy,

May we live out peace,

May we be inspired to know with certainty that we can in fact make a difference,

May we trust in Him and not in the things of this world,

May we speak gospel,

May we remember that we serve the One who took a handful of fish and fed thousands,

May we not grow weary in doing good,

May we cease struggling for happiness and instead embrace joy,

May apathy be erased from our hearts,

May indifference die,

May we constantly immerse ourselves in His word,

May we remember His promises,

May we follow His instructions,

May we be people who love in word and in deed.

   I wish you and yours a 2016 filled with His presence, inspired by His promises and joyful in the expectations of His will being carried out in your life. Happiness is fleeting, joy is everlasting.

O Lord, length of days does not profit me

Except the days are passed in Thy presence,

Give me a grace that precedes, follows, guides,

sustains, sanctifies, aids every hour