From Viet Nam and Back

© Jeanne E Webster

Life is filled with many wonders, some shrouded in golden ecstasy while others forever etched with tears from tortured souls. It is an arduous and exhilarating labor, long and short, hopeful and hopeless, fulfilling and fleeting, and promising and forsaking.

Life begins with a scream and ends with a moan, loves one day and hates the next, promises the world with one hand and waves goodbye with the other.

Somewhere in-between these dynamics, babies are born and people die, lovers marry and the disillusioned divorce, families build up and discord knocks down, adults fight and children hurt. Such is life.

Mature life begins with shy smiles, cuddling looks, love oozing from the seams of passion, pure innocence in all its meant-to-be fashion.

Babies are snuggling from the breast, prideful glances exchanged, cooing and oh-so-gentle touches of love, and brief bliss and fulfillment. Home was security until a thing called war bombed the soul out of young hearts just beginning their walk down the aisle of life.

The eruption of a foolhardy war blasted on the idyllic scene and in a few short years, family units deteriorate into shambles, love turns to hate, children tremble in frightening anguish. Parents divorce, bitterly forging a sword of despair and unforgiveness into once solid family trees—forever.

Like animated ghosts of the past, fathers and mothers trod wearily along what’s left of life, separated by wounds too deep to heal and too long ago to remember.  Children are resilient but deeply hurt nonetheless. They reach adulthood and marry, clinging dearly to high hopes, bearing young and slowly beginning their family trees. But all too soon they realize that. . .

“Life begins with a scream and ends with a moan, loves one day and hates the next, promises the world with one hand and waves goodbye with the other.”

A story told by an angel on the wing, carrying heavenward life’s shattered things.

GODSPEED My LOVE

WOMEN'S WINDOW

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Somewhere My Love

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 Where are the beautiful days?

Where are the sleigh rides ‘til dawn?

Where are the tender moments of splendor?

Where have they gone…?

Where have they gone…?

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Somewhere, my love, there will be songs to sing,

Although the snow covers the hope of spring.

Somewhere a hill blossoms in green and gold,

And there are dreams, all that your heart can hold.

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Someday we’ll meet again, my love,

Someday wherever the spring breaks through.

You’ll come to me out of the long ago,

Warm as the wind, soft as the kiss of snow..

Till then, my sweet, think of me now and then.

Godspeed my love ‘til you are mine again.

~~by Paul Francis Webster

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“They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”  Isa.  35:10

(A sacred love of long ago.)    white rose

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Forgetting. . .Remembering

 

 Thou shalt love the lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul and with all thy might.  Deut. 6:5

God wants his law in our minds not just on tablets of stone. Grow love for God—love does grow. The Holy Spirit initiates growth—seek it—pray for it—expect it!  True love from God is the human response to God’s perfect and infinite compassion.  If we confess and live the confession of faith, love can be:
Kind
Non-bragging
Non-envious
Not rude
Not proud
Not easily provoked
Thinks no evil
Rejoices not in sin
Bears all things
Believes all things
Hopes all things
Endures all things
Never fails.

Phil. 3:13 … forgetting the things that are behind.

 

Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee.  Deut. 8:2
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Forgetting ills behind me, the sorrows past and gone,
Forgetting all my wanderings, too sad to dwell upon,
Remembering God’s great goodness, in times of stress and strain,
Remembering His restoring, I praise my God again.
Forgetting all my doubting, which dimmed faith’s vision bright,
Forgetting all the earth-clouds, the darkness, gloom and night,
Remembering God’s bright sunshine, and radiance of His face,
Remembering His long patience, I praise my God for grace.
Forgetting all unkindness which friends and foes have shown,
Forgetting and forgiving the wrongs that I have known,
Remembering God provided, unsought, each faithful friend,
Remembering love’s devotion, I’ll praise Him to the end.
Forgetting my repinings, when disappointments came,
Forgetting all the murmurings, which filled my soul with shame,
Remembering God was ever true to His Holy Word,
Remembering He was faithful, I praise my sovereign Lord.

 

~~A.G.

GODSPEED My LOVE

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Somewhere My Love

.

 Where are the beautiful days?

Where are the sleigh rides ‘til dawn?

Where are the tender moments of splendor?

Where have they gone…?

Where have they gone…?

.

Somewhere, my love, there will be songs to sing,

Although the snow covers the hope of spring.

Somewhere a hill blossoms in green and gold,

And there are dreams, all that your heart can hold.

.

Someday we’ll meet again, my love,

Someday wherever the spring breaks through.

You’ll come to me out of the long ago,

Warm as the wind, soft as the kiss of snow..

Till then, my sweet, think of me now and then.

Godspeed my love ‘til you are mine again.

~~by Paul Francis Webster

.

“They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”  Isa.  35:10

(A sacred love of long ago.)    white rose

Pure Love

Baby

 

“What is this thing called LOVE?” asked Cole Porter in a song.   My thoughts rushed this Advent day to Christ’s birth in Bethlehem:

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♫ ♫ ♫

“A wee baby boy bundled in a blanket

Nursing at Mary’s breast

Eyes not seeing

But heart a ’beating . . .

Oh, how the world’s being blest!

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“Kings and wise men traveled to the east

Following after a star

Gold and incense

Frankincense and myrrh . . .

All for royalty these are!

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“Kneeling and praying in Gethsemane

‘Father, Thy will be done.’

Spit upon and bloodied

Lashed and condemned . . .

Then a cross embraced the Son!”

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What is this thing called LOVE?!

“For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have eternal life.”  John 3:16

The “Last Supper” Day

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© Jeanne E Webster – All Rights Reserved

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What a wonderful visit!  I had driven down to Florida from Minnesota to see my mother, and we spent the entire week connecting again with old black-and-white family photos, reminiscing over childhoods, upbringings, relatives long gone and what we could scramble up for the supper table.

We were at ease; our once huffed up spirits now lay flat as a well-made bed sheet. Gone was the stress, old wounds had healed and all was well. The white beaches of Pensacola welcomed our presence with lazy toe-digging, lollygagging hours of sharing opportunities.

Then, time beckoned and duty called. Homeward bound, I drove north, pondering the precious moments we had bared our souls and shared our hearts. Genuine hugs and kisses assured us that my return visit in September was eagerly awaited. Oh, Lord, life was good!

Reality, through the ages…

If only I had known…

Mom died as I drove back home, killed instantly in an auto accident. How quickly life changes. Like a chipped recording, “I would never see her again,” repeatedly blared in my mind. No more sharing old times, retelling family secrets… no more “little girl & mommy” hugs again. Mom was gone?  (A story taken from a fictionalized event)

Losing loved ones has always been a regular occurrence. Death has always been a part of life. Eventually there’s a loss somewhere…and no more tomorrows?

—-

Thinking back to another actuality 2,000 years ago:

True reality disturbed the dust one devastating day in Jerusalem.  Let’s call it the “Last Supper” day.

Luke 24

The Master’s somber demeanor had been noted, but nothing close to what would transpire later in the day occurred to them. They followed him from the upper room, cheerfully waved palm branches in his path, and laid down their robes as he entered the gates of Jerusalem. He was their Man of the hour. They loved him so; he loved them so.

—- “What?”

“Jesus died this afternoon…”

“He was crucified…”

“He is dead.”

—-

“Oh my god! No!!! What am I going to do?”

“He was my best friend!”

“He raised my brother from his grave!”

“I had him over for supper.”

“He cast out demons from my son’s body.”

“He loved the children so dearly.”

“Now he’s gone…”

—-

Three days later he arose from the grave; He had overcome the curse of death!

Yes, He lives!

There are endless tomorrows for us to share with Him.

Forever and ever!

Praise the Lord!

 

 

Useless Ugly Thing

dry trees

© Jeanne E Webster  All rights reserved

 

How long has it been since you talked with the Lord

And told him your heart’s hidden secrets?

How long since you prayed, how long since you stayed

On your knees till the light shone through?

How long has it been since your mind felt at ease?

How long since your heart knew no burden?

 Can you call him your friend

. . . how long has it been

since you knew that he cared for you?

~by Jim Reeves

 

Summertime.. . . time to spruce up the yard, trim the hedges, mow the grass, tidy up the rose bushes, remove the deadwood from the trees, etc.  My husband and I were busy last week doing all of the above. The weather was perfect– cool breeze, moderate temperature, partly sunny sky.  Yes, it was indeed time to resurrect the homestead.

Way out back, adjoining our neighboring farmer’s field, stood a disheveled old black pine tree badly in need of repair.  Somehow or another it had a lot of dead branches in it, and we don’t know if it merely got old and diseased, was picked on by hungry deer or Farmer Brown sprayed too much pesticide or herbicide on it or what not.  It plainly “didn’t look’a so good.”

We trimmed it out, towed away three carts of dead and dried up leavings and gave it a whole new demeanor.  It looks so much better now.  Yes, it lost ground on one side more than the other, but from a distance it doesn’t look so bad.

You know, our lives are sort of like that tree.  Through the years we sort of lose ground and plainly “didn’t look’a so good.”  Parts of our inner self die off and turn brown, a branch or two takes it on the chin too often and falls prey to neglect or self-punishment or the world has feasted on it way too often.   Others may think we look hopeless, about done in, “kick ‘em to the curb” again, a useless ugly thing.

Jesus is there to heal your wounded heart.  He’s there to spruce up the shiners.  He’s there to throw out the deadwood and fill your heart with peace and joy for the entire world to see.  He’ll make you brand-new and cleanse your soul; restore the music of life that God so solemnly placed in your spirit when you were freshly made.

Do you know Jesus?  He knows you.  If you don’t know him, look him up some day.  He’ll be waiting.

I look out the kitchen window and peer at that old black pine tree, and you know, it’s hard to remember that it once looked so scraggly.  It doesn’t look so weathered, so ready for the wood pile.  If fact, it has taken on a new perspective.  It wants to live, for today and for all the days ahead.  Life is worth the living.  As God has planned, so be it.

John 3:16  “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”