I Remember, I Remember


I Remember, I Remember


I remember, I remember,

The house where I was born,

The little window where the sun

Came peeping in at morn:

He never came a wink too soon,

Nor brought too long a day;

But now, I often wish the night

Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember,

The roses, red and white;

The violets and the lily-cups,

Those flowers made of light!

The lilacs where the robin built,

And where my brother set

The laburnum on his birthday,-

The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,

Where I was used to swing;

And thought the air must rush as fresh

To swallows on the wing;

My spirit flew in feathers then,

That is so heavy now,

And summer pools could hardly cool

The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember,

The fir trees dark and high;

I used to think their slender tops

Were close against the sky:

It was a childish ignorance,

But now ‘tis little joy

To know I’m farther off from heaven

Than when I was a boy.

                   ~Thomas Hood



“I wonder if the world is full

Of other secrets beautiful,

As little guessed, as hard to see,

As this sweet, starry mystery?


Do angels veil themselves in space,

And make the sun their hiding-place?

Do white wings flash as spirits go

On heavenly errands to and fro,

While we, down-looking, never guess

How near our lives they crowd and press?


If so, at life’s set we may see

Into the dusk steal noiselessly

Sweet faces that we used to know,

Dear eyes like stars that softly glow,

Dear hands stretched out to point the way,–

And deem the night more fair than day.” 


I like this.

Somehow it speaks to my soul today.

I know it’s not scripture…

But it speaks words of the Spirit.

Perhaps knowing I was ill at ease

It touched my spirit in a way

That soothed me…

Calmed me…

Reassured me…

As if I sensed a familiar hand

On my shoulder–

Firm but gentle–

I wanted to share this

With each one of you…

Readers and family and friends…

Perhaps you also will “see”

And be blessed with me.


© Jeanne E Webster – All rights reserved

Body or Soul?

Bird of Paradise against blue.

Body or Soul

© Jeanne E Webster – All Rights Reserved


Are you bruised, dear one,

Your grief too much to bear?

Call out the name of the Son;

Cast on Him all your care.


Consider the situation:

Which pain is greater to bear…

A body in degradation

Or a spirit in disrepair?


The body moans and groans;

Fails us more each day;

We wear it to the bone;

To dust and dirt decay.


But the spirit is eternal

Lives on and on and on

Mark it in your journal…

To God your soul belongs.


Thank Him for His love

His forgiveness of sins

The Spirit descends like a dove

New life in heaven begins.


Reject His love and grace

You bring forth His wrath

From you He turns His face

As you head down hell’s path.


Bodily pain soon passes;

Spiritual pain is forever.

The body rises from ashes,

The rejected spirit never.


Turn your spirit to God

Hold to His love and grace

Uplifting as you plod

Towards His heavenly place.


For you His heart did bleed

Lean hard into His word:

My grace is all you need…

Peace carols like a bird.




Bird of Paradise against blue.


Homeward Wing the Birds



© Jeanne E Webster-All Rights Reserved

Matthew 6:6   “But you, when you pray, enter into your closet, and when you have shut the door, pray to your Father which is in secret; and your Father which sees in secret shall reward you openly.”

If you hear me say, “I’ve got to go to my closet,” it is not what you think.  I’m not looking for wearing apparel. I must lift someone up to the Lord and need to retire to a quiet place, hence, my closet.

Did you play “Pretend” when you were a child?  Many of us did.  We would make believe we had an invisible friend to relate to, talk to; we’d just have fun.  This friend was as real as real could be, when you are a child.  One day you grow up and realize it was merely child’s play.

Now grown and no longer playing games, I hope you have a real friend, your personal Savior, Jesus Christ.  You can walk with Him and talk with Him, and He is as real as any person you’ve ever seen or imagined.  Jesus is there to share your needs, your joys, your burdens and those of others.  Look upon prayer as a serious privilege and duty, along with a deep relationship, a holy union.

What is really happening when you pray for the needs of another?  Do you understand this mystery?

You have taken their spirit’s need and drawn them into the presence of the Lord and formed a holy accord.  Quieting your mind and spirit, you enter into this prayer closet and tell it all to Jesus.  From your heart and soul, you bear those burdens to Him, and the Holy Spirit prays with you throughout this gathering.

Such as, “Lord, this is my friend, Mary, and she is in need of your help.  She is suffering from dizziness and severe headaches.   .   .   ”

You continue in spirit, hushed by the stillness and peace emanating from His presence.  It is a special moment when Spirit speaks with spirit.  In time you come away with the sense that the need is in God’s hand, and His peace reigns supreme in your heart and in the heart of the one in need.  The Lord has heard . . . and all is well.


Jesus, Kneel Beside Me

~Allen Eastman Cross

Jesus, kneel beside me in the dawn of day;

Thine is prayer eternal—teach me how to pray!

Master, work beside me in the shining sun;

Gently guide Thy servant till the work be done.

Savior, watch beside me in the closing light;

Lo, the evening cometh—watch with me this night!

Birds are winging homeward, sun and shadow cease;

Savior, take my spirit to Thy perfect peace.  Amen


Long Ago and Far Away



© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed


Psalm 55:8 (KJV) “I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest.”


Everyone occasionally needs a place to escape the cares of this world, be it a quiet room, a shed, a nook in the barn, a fence post, or a piece of land where nothing intrudes into one’s thoughts and feelings. The burdens of the soul shall melt away whenever one slips into this serene, sacred realm.

For many a year, my place of refuge was a tiny chunk of land resting beside the Flint River. It was merely half an acre, but my, what a busy patch of green!

Squirrels scurried here and there burying their nuts for the long cold winters while frolicking rabbits waltzed around the grove of prickly crabapple trees. Gorging on bugs and grubs by the thousands, fat and sassy moles punched the rich, dark loam upward into long tunnels crisscrossing the grassy field. Various ducks and geese nestled alongside the banks of the rippling, cool water, displaying their beauty and serenity, whereas the feisty kingfishers zoomed overhead, diving into the murky river for their catch of the day. In the early morning foggy dew, a rare deer would come tiptoeing along the lower bank, tenderly chomping down fallen acorns.

Whenever this idyllic wonderland beckoned to my sagging spirit, I’d mosey on down and head for a special old tree alongside the riverbank. Snuggling down next to its weather worn trunk, I’d silently sit for a while and spiritually blend in with the land.

I sensed the spirit of the trees and the grass, the leaves and the dirt, the river and the animals, the wind and the rain, the snow, the fog, and the mist.

Within my soul came healing as I rested and communed with God. I’d tell Him all my troubles, my needs and my sins, mention folks in need of prayer, praise Him for all His blessings, and thank Him for His grace. Sighing softly as the tenseness within my weary body slowly ebbed away, my spirit was restored, fully refreshed and strengthened to face anew the matters at hand.

Thank you, Father, for that mystical plot of land that served so faithfully as my refuge many years ago. Those memories shall be treasured forever.





© Jeanne E Webster. All Rights Reserved


Your great promises, Lord, kept me on track

Sharp-set stones deeply cut, my strength spent

I could not meet your eyes if I turned back…

So on I went.


You would not yield your faith in me

As menacing crags threatened to bar

I conquered inch by terrified inch to see…

My goal afar.


I struggle now amid harsh golden years…

I flinch; falter blindly, yet deep within,

“You can!” my spirit, unwavering, hears…

Lord, we shall win.

My Name is . . .



© Jeanne E Webster.  All Rights Reserved.


I was born long ago in the mountains out east

My spirit remains there today.

From Irish, Scot, and English blue blood,

Throw in a dab of Native American and German-Jew.

Ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War from

The States of New Hampshire and Massachusetts.


Noah wrote a well-known dictionary, I declare

Daniel was quite the orator and statesman;.

Old John was the first governor of Connecticut;

That’s the wrap-up of the forefathers..

Recent history brought in some Swiss ties;

My children are thoroughly peopled with strong genes.


An Irish blessing to you, and a good cuppa of English tea,

A Scottish shortbread and good German bratwurst,

Delicious Swiss chocolate and strong Algonquin courage . . .


But the important part. . .  I am blessed with God’s everlasting salvation and grace.