I was stunned. My amaryllis plant had bloomed, The flowers were dead, and I cut Them off along with the Stem so I could throw the Remains in the garbage. But as the pot sat in the cold garage I noticed a lump erupting under The moss. Within days a new stem was poking Out of the dirt. It's back in front of my window, And I'm excitedly watching it Flower again. How was it possible? I used my resurrected plant for "Show and Tell" at our Small group meeting. We were discussing the topic of Marriage, of how to Revitalize those relationships that Seem beyond hope. I held up my amaryllis and said, "I thought it was dead, but I'm Watering it, and now it's Beautiful once more." It can happen to couples too. If they tend to each other's needs, Pull up the weeds, Grow together instead of apart, They can flourish again. I've seen it happen in my Own family. Now, as I watch my miracle plant Re-bloom, I'm hoping, Praying that a lifeless marriage will Be reborn too. |
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The dear lady is almost ninety, but
She clearly remembers the Moment of her husband's Death. He was only in his fifties, but the Cancer treatments had Failed. Standing beside his hospital Bed, during those transitional Minutes when one hovers Between earth and heaven, she Spied a white figure moving Toward her dear one. When the silent visitor departed Her husband had departed too. She's convinced it was an angel Carrying him home. And I'm inclined to believe her. The tears united us, a
Group of grievers expressing our Sorrow. One widower was only a month Into his journey while a white haired Lady had endured for a Year. "But it's like it's just been a Day," she said. A broken hearted brother who cared for His sister until she succumbed to Cancer wept freely. My friend, sitting beside me, thought She would be killed along With her husband in the car crash. God spared her life, but not Her agony. And one dear, dear man described Every small detail of his wife's Sudden death, and couldn't understand Why he was crying as he spoke. The load of grief was heavy in That room. We could feel it pervading the Atmosphere. But the pain was distributed among All of us, which made our Own seem just a bit lighter. During my devotions I read again the
Parable of the son gone astray. I was moved to tears at the Father's selfless love, at the Joyful reunion. Years ago, I told the story to My four year old preschoolers. I used the most expressive language Possible, with hand motions too. When I got to the part Where the dad sees his son in the Distance and the prodigal finally falls Into his open arms, the Children were so caught up in The emotion that they all Began to clap. I was astonished. Even the little ones understood it. Like the angels, they rejoiced that A lost child had been found, That a runaway had come home. I have a page in my spiral notebook simply Titled "Prodigals." I pray for them by name. I pray that one day each son and Daughter will be Disillusioned with the far country and Return home. I can't imagine the joy. I was taken aback when I saw the
Bearded man walk across the sanctuary. The resemblance was so strong That my heart hurt. When he came near, I warned him. "Jack if you see me stare at you And cry, you'll know it's because You look just like your dad." As we stood there talking and I noticed him drying his eyes, I realized we were both vulnerable To tears. Jack's son had inherited his Dad's tender heart too. I'm still shaking my head in
Disbelief. Our Sunday School class ended Early, and as I drove home I debated. Should I pick up my food at the drive thru at KFC, or eat inside like Jack and I Used to do. I hadn't done it since he's been Gone. I prayed, "Lord, direct me. Perhaps You Have someone for me to meet." As I turned into the restaurant, my car Seemed to steer into the parking lot. I was the first customer. The young man at the cash register had Curly hair that extended beneath His hat. His name was Alex. I wondered what possessed him to walk Over to my table as I was eating and say, "Have a really great day!" It was a perfect opening! I handed him my "Have A Good One" tract and Struck up a conversation. He's seventeen, a student at a Nearby high school, and his supervisor Was sending him home because he Didn't feel well. "You're an answer to prayer," I told him. "I asked the Lord whether I should Eat inside, and I know now He meant for Me to talk to you." I shared how God was with me During hard spots in my life. "You'll face those struggles, too," I said. "You may even feel at times That life's not worth it." I gave him another tract, the one That explains how, for a time in college, I gave up on God. Alex hung onto my words, staring Straight into my eyes, Not looking aside, And he thanked me several times Before he left. When he walked outside I saw him Sit on the curb and read the pamphlets Which pointed him to Jesus. I'm overwhelmed by our encounter. Some would conclude that the Early class dismissal, The decision to eat inside, Alex walking to my table, were Simply happenstance. But I'm convinced the events Were clearly crafted by God. It's not difficult to be
Humble when I compare Myself to God. I'm a sputtering match stick Held up before the sun, A drop of water engulfed by The ocean, A pebble overshadowed by Mt. Everest. It's not necessary to grovel At His feet. I simply need to see myself For who I really am.
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Dorothy Kalb Hsu Seitzinger
Writing poetry has helped me process and express my sorrows and joys, my concerns and blessings. "Life is hard, but God is good!" Archives
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