You Gotta Have Heart

 

©Jeanne E Webster – All Rights Reserved

Psalm 139:23 “Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know me and see if there be any wicked way in me…”

Recently I sought my doctor’s advice regarding a chronic imbalance problem.  He directed me to undergo a stress test to evaluate my heart’s functions.  The first phase of this test is a cardiac ultrasound machine which takes pictures of the heart in action prior to the stress-induced treadmill aspect. Following the treadmill exercise, the patient returns to the ultrasound machine for additional pictures of the heart which is now recovering from the stress.

As I lay upon the table underneath the machine, I watched its creeping movement as it tediously crossed over the chest area, clicking photos as it swept the heart area from the right to the left. Words from a psalmist came to mind as this medical contraption fulfilled its duty for the technician. “Search me, oh God, and know my heart…”

Laying there I prayed, “Lord, search my heart and my spirit as this machine is doing. Search out any defects or irregularities that inhibit my heart and make it whole again. You are the Creator and know me through and through. You don’t need pictures to review; you made all the parts. I lay here spread out before you and confess any sinful willfulness. Repair my heart, Lord, and correct its path. Point it in sync with your will and purpose. Thank you, Father. You are the Great Technician. In Jesus’ name.”

Amen!

A WOMAN’S QUESTION

 

Do you know you have asked for the costliest thing

Ever made by the Hand above?

A woman’s heart, and a woman’s life—

And a woman’s wonderful love.

 

Do you know you have asked for this priceless thing

As a child might ask for a toy?

Demanding what others have died to win,

With the reckless dash of a boy.

 

You have written my lesson of duty out;

Manlike, you have questioned me.

Now stand at the bar of my woman’s soul

Until I shall question thee.

 

You require your mutton shall always be hot,

Your socks and your shirt be whole;

I require your heart to be true as God’s stars

And as pure as His heaven your soul.

 

You require a cook for your mutton and beef,

I require a far greater thing;

A seamstress you’re wanting for socks and shirts—

I look for a man and a king.

 

A king for the beautiful realm called Home,

And a man that his Maker, God,

Shall look upon as He did on the first

And say: “It is very good.”

 

I am fair and young, but the rose may fade

From my soft young cheek one day;

Will you love me then ‘mid the falling leaves,

As you did ‘mong the blossoms of May?

 

Is your heart an ocean so strong and deep,

I may launch my all on its tide?

A loving woman finds heaven or hell

On the day she is made a bride.

 

I require all things that are grand and true,

All things that a man should be;

If you give this all, I would stake my life

To be all you demand of me.

 

If you cannot be this, a laundress and cook

You can hire and little to pay;

But a woman’s heart and a woman’s life

Are not to be won that way!

~Lena Lathrop

 

 

 

Grandmother Recall

gramma.jpg

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© Jeanne E Webster.  All Rights Reserved.
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Slender stature, about 5 foot-four

Smiles flashing love to every child

Twinkling eyes, probing each heart

Hands nursing many a child’s hurt

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Arms protecting little ones from harm

Vibrant aprons holding treats to eat

Baking the finest filled cookies about

Doting time for grandchildren at play

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Nurturing interest in outdoor fun

Discovering those lucky 4-leaf clovers

Picking lilacs and planting those pansies

Joyfully sharing her cherished antique dolls

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Letting grandchildren help with chores

Always dressed prim, proper and clean

Truly loved her family and they knew it–

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This was my gramma and mighty protector

Thank you Lord for such a rich treasure

God’s angel in disguise and homeward bound

Far too early–I still lament her passing.

The Blood in Bud

lamb

The Blood in Bud

© 2011 Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed.

“It’s spotless; that’s the one!”
Bellowed the most High Priests.
The lamb was lifted to the sun
An offering for the feast.

Bleats and bells choked with dust;
The throng gasping in awe.
Behind the veil, the ransom must
Complete the atonement law.

The Priest sprinkled the blood
Upon the altar of God.
Forgiveness appeared in bud,
Dispersing all sins abroad.

The Son’s blood was shed
Heart and spirit forsaken
A life taken in my stead
My soul did finally waken…

God’s love song fills the air:

“Unto you a Savior is born; a Sacrifice offered so rare.
Holy blood the altar adorns–May your souls be reborn!”

Dreaming

bluebirdbyglobalbirdphotos

© 2013 Jeanne E Webster.  All rights reserved

*Photo by Global Bird Photos

 

 I am a perpetual dreamer.  As a little girl, I believed in the little stories I read, the songs I sang, and the few movies I saw.  I could vanish for a whole day in the words of Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah . . .

“Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
My, oh my, what a wonderful day
Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

“Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder
It’s the truth, it’s actual
Ev’rything is satisfactual
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day, yes sir!”

(by Ray Gilbert)

 and rematerialize with that bluebird on my shoulder.  Every word etched its meaning into my spirit, and the sunshine did head my way.  It’s the truth…it’s a c t u a l!

Being little was the grandest time of life.  As little people we accepted things with simplicity and an anything goes attitude.  If we could imagine it, then IT was real.  Do you remember playing cops and robbers?  Cowboys and Indians?  (I must interject here that I was a tomboy!) You could be Tonto or the Lone Ranger; you became Dick Tracy til you went to bed and woke up to a new identity.  Or you became Silver and could run faster than any other horse.  You even knew where to find the best sour grass in the whole world, that secret place out behind Grandpa’s barn.

I think my favorite hero to play was Superman.  There was this special field near my house that had a long narrow lay of the land, with a slight dip in the middle of it, perfect for lift-off.  I’d start at one end of it and run for all it was worth til I reached the middle.  There I would jump into the air, arms outstretched and nose to the clouds, believing with all my stubby legs that I was IN THE AIR…only to set down a few seconds later on the dusty dry ground.  But I kept trying and trying…and trying.  Oh, what fun, acting as these imaginary people.        

One song especially affected my young life:

Somewhere over the Rainbow

*composed by Harold Arlen and the lyrics by E.Y. Harburg.

When all the world is a hopeless jumble
And the raindrops tumble all around,
Heaven opens a magic lane
When all the clouds darken up the skyway,
There’s a rainbow highway to be found
Leading from your window pane
To a place behind the sun,
Just a step beyond the rain

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly.
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh why can’t I?

 

 I sang that song with my heart, thinking that if I truly believed, I could fly over that rainbow with those bluebirds.  With childlike faith I DID fly over the rainbow.  It launched me into an imagined escape from the very troubled world in which I actually lived, an escape I desperately needed. 

I still dream…every time I read a book, a poem, watch a movie, attend a play, hear Handel’s Messiah at Christmas time, and more.  Heaven does open, like the song trilled, to a place beyond the sun, just a step beyond the rain…to a whole new world that God calls heaven.  The Bible states that a heavenly home waits for everyone that has drawn their life on the account of Jesus Christ.  And it’s not a dream.  It is reality.  It’s signed, sealed and delivered…waiting for the nod of your head, the creaking open of the door to your heart, the throwing down of the ultimate freewill of one’s soul.  “Yes, Lord, I am yours.” 

L’Chaim!

 

Waiting

© Jeanne E Webster

 

Oh Lord, I shall always put my trust in Thee;

Preserve me with uprightness and integrity.

Show me Thy ways and teach me to see,

For I wait on Thee…I wait on Thee.

 

Morning, noon, and night I pray

In the shadows of Thy wings let me stay.

Hear my voice when I cry aloud,

With head and knees humbly bowed.

 

Have mercy on me and restore my soul,

‘Ere long this world takes its dreadful toll.

My hope is in Thee and shall always be,

For I wait on Thee…I wait on Thee.

 

Praise and glory to Thee I sing

For You, oh Lord, are my everything.

My heart is fixed on heaven above,

On Your great and eternal love.

 

Oh Lord, let my soul dwell at ease;

Grant me Your deep, everlasting peace.

Strengthen my heart; give me dignity,

For I wait on Thee…I wait on Thee.

The Body in the Word

©Jeanne E. Webster

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The tongue is so little

But boasts great things.

~

A rope in your nose

Can lead you anywhere.

~

A mote in your brother’s eye

Is less than a beam in yours.

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The ear hears words

But heeds not wisdom.

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The mouth chews food

But not healthy fare.

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Renew the mind;

Prove what is good.

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The heart beats sure

But holds deceit.

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Fill the stomach

With food and water.

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Wash your hands;

Don’t throw stones.

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Beautiful feet

Has the preacher.

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God’s fingers shaped the world,

The earth, moon and stars.

~

The body of Christ redeemed

Sinners like you and me.