Victory In Jesus

Wouldn't you know. This is a day unlike any other and yet sadly like every other. One day God gives breath, and another breath escapes at last. A sweet sweet friend, Mrs. Ethel Jones, passed away this morning. An amazing and sweet woman who loves this song.

She surely is smiling in Heaven, resting on God's heavenly porch and singing this song with us. She saw much pain and much tragedy and smiled right through it.

//

As a good friend said, "cry, throw yourself a pity party and move forward". [about my hormonal swings]

Here though, I will cry in words, and give it up the Lord. He holds my sweet friend and she is all the better for being there. I will miss her always.

//

There was a porch
with white steps
and bushes hugging

we spent hours
clipping and cutting

but nothing
was as special as the sweet words
she spoke

I sat a spell with her
knowing now what that means
a moment
where much is gleaned
magic cast
as she shared her past
the good
the bad
the ugly
and the victory given
by our Savior and how he lived it

and with each passing breath
so much depth
and joy
for one who had little
had suffered much
and yet was richer than all the world

and so
forever she lives
beneath the cleansing flood
forever washed in His blood
a testament

to what it meant

to have Victory in Jesus.

                                                 RIP to the beautiful, Mrs. Ethel Jones

Beauty

noun, plural beauties.

1.

the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensorymanifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design orpattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritualqualities are manifest).

Prologue

My parents bought me my mac to go back to grad school with.

My GRE scores just expired and my son was just born. Now it is my lifeline. It is a way for me to maintain normalcy despite a fractioning of all that I have known.

He is a little ball of love and a screaming flurry of fury. He needs milk all the time. I am that milk. I am in some ways little more than a comforter and cow. More than that I am a mother. I know that but when it comes to the moments of craziness where I don't know what to do I feel like a cow. He actually is a very laid back, sweet tempered, talkative and a hilarious baby. However, I am in survival mode and that 5% of the time he is crying- seems suddenly like 100% of the time.

A good friend once told me how its hard to find your identity again as a mom. You lose yourself in a kid. It is easy to see that already as the storm rises from his lungs with an incessant and God given need.

Right now he coos quietly beside me as he dreams of giants and soldiers and swords.

I breathe thankfully knowing I have at least 5 more minutes of this. 5 more minutes of normalcy.

Without him my life would bare an aching emptiness but with him things will never be the same.

//

Here is to the journey of a lifetime!