It Goes On

© Jeanne E Webster–All rights reserved



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

It 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 babies are born and people die, lovers marry and the disillusioned divorce, families build up and discord knocks them 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 snuggle at the breast, prideful glances are exchanged with cooing and oh-so-gentle touches of love. Brief bliss offers fulfillment. Home was security until a thing called the “Viet Nam war” bombed the soul out of young hearts just beginning their walk down the aisle of life.

The eruption of this foolhardy war blasted despair on the idyllic scene and in a few short years family units deteriorated into shambles.  Parents divorced, bitterly forging a sword of despair and unforgiveness into once solid family trees—forever. Like animated ghosts of the past, fathers and mothers tread wearily along what’s left of life, separated by wounds too deep to heal and too long ago remembered.

The children are resilient but deeply wounded nonetheless. They reach adulthood and marry, clinging dearly to high hopes, bearing young and slowly resurrecting 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.

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.

Sands of War

desertwar

© 1991 Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved.

(This poem is dedicated to my son, who fought in the Persian Gulf War, 1991)

.

It’s time to go to war, my son.

Do you hear that distant drum?

Ill winds are kicking up the sand

Down there in Kuwaiti land.

.

Load those missiles; pack your gear;

The battle time draws near.

DESERT SHIELD screams on high:

“Saddam! Saddam! Goodbye!!!”

.

Upon the sand, the line is drawn.

Don’t quiver; prove your brawn!

The “birds” are flying high and low

To soften up the blow.

.

The dunes . . .the dunes are beckoning;

’Tis the day of reckoning!

Amid the smoke and wind-blown sand

Lies victory from God’s hand.

.

DESERT STORM is quick and fierce,

As Saddam’s might is pierced.

The Lord your God is with you, Son;

Fight on till all is done.

.

Far and wide across the dunes

The bloodied foe lies strewn.

White flags are waving over Iraq.

It’s time to head on back . . .

. . . . back home to loved ones seeking you,

.

Dressed in red, white and blue;

Bright yellow ribbons tied everywhere

To show you that we care.

Oh . . .the hearts overflow with tears,

.

Shedding all those pent-up fears;

Eyes meet. . . nervous feet run. . .

It’s hugs and kisses for everyone!

Give thanks for God’s loving care;

.

Our burdens He helped us bear.

Each day His tender mercies renew.

He whispers, “Son, I love you!”

Charge!

 

fight 

Galatians 5:16-17This I say then: Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh. And these are contrary the one to the other, so that you cannot do the things that you would.”

.

“Within my earthly temple there’s a crowd;

There’s one of us that’s humble, one that’s proud;

There’s one that’s brokenhearted for his sins

And one who, unrepentant, sits and grins;

There’s one who loves his neighbor as himself

And one who cares for naught but fame and pelf.

From such corroding care I would be free

If once I could determine which is me.”

(author unknown)

.

The above verse is quite a mouthful, isn’t it? I would imagine that it holds true for most of us. The body is quite hard to control, rein in and subdue. To put it frankly, the Christian life is a battlefield. The flesh desires to sin; the Spirit is constrained to obey the things of the Spirit. Each day of our lives a constant war between these natures presents itself anew.

Paul describes to the Galatians a stark comparison:

“The works of the flesh are these: Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, sexual excesses, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revelings….

But the fruit of the Spirit is: Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance….”

The differences are startling!

As in any war, action must be taken to achieve victory. The finger points at each one of us, dear Christians. Will we remain passive and continue to tolerate the works of the flesh within us? Or shall we rear up off our sanctified haunches and give way to the power of the Spirit to crucify this flesh?

The victory has already been won; we merely have to give the “Charge!”

“Brethren, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Amen.”

© Jeanne E Webster.  All rights reserved and observed.

A Peek into the Sands of Time

desert storm

 

Sands of Time

© 1991 Jeanne E Webster.   All rights reserved

(This poem is dedicated to my son, who fought in the Persian Gulf War, 1991)

 

It’s time to go to war, my son.

Do you hear that distant drum?

Ill winds are kicking up the sand

Down there in Kuwaiti land.

.

Load those missiles; pack your gear;

The battle time draws near.

DESERT SHIELD screams on high:

“Saddam! Saddam! Goodbye!!!”

.

Upon the sand, the line is drawn.

Don’t quiver; prove your brawn!

The “birds” are flying high and low

To soften up the blow.

.

The dunes…the dunes are beckoning;

’Tis the day of reckoning!

Amid the smoke and wind-blown sand

Lies victory from God’s hand.

.

DESERT STORM is quick and fierce,

As Saddam’s might is pierced.

The Lord your God is with you, Son;

Fight on till all is done.

.

Far and wide across the dunes

The bloodied foe lies strewn.

White flags are waving over Iraq.

It’s time to head on back…

.

Back home to loved ones seeking you,

Dressed in red, white and blue;

Bright yellow ribbons tied everywhere

To show you that we care.

.

Oh…the hearts overflow with tears,

Shedding all those pent-up fears;

Eyes meet… nervous feet run…

It’s hugs and kisses for everyone!

.

Give thanks for God’s loving care;

Our burdens He helped us bear.

Each day His tender mercies renew:

He whispers, “Son, I love you!”

 

The Long and Short of It

 

©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 being born and people dying, lovers are marrying and the disillusioned divorcing, families building up and discord knocking down, adults fighting and children hurting.  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.  Then 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.

Are You Just Going to Sit There?

 Galatians 5:16-17 “This I say then:  Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh.  For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh.  And these are contrary the one to the other, so that you cannot do the things that you would. “

 

 

©Jeanne E Webster

 

“Within my earthly temple there’s a crowd;

There’s one of us that’s humble, one that’s proud;

There’s one that’s brokenhearted for his sins

And one who, unrepentant, sits and grins;

There’s one who loves his neighbor as himself

And one who cares for naught but fame and pelf.

From such corroding care I would be free

If once I could determine which is me.”

 

The above verse is quite a mouthful, isn’t it?  I would imagine that it holds true for most us.   This body, for a Christian, is quite hard to control, to rein in, and to subdue.  To put it frankly, the Christian is a battlefield.  The flesh desires to sin; the Spirit is constrained to obey the things of the Spirit.  Every day we are made aware of the constant battle between the two natures. 

Paul continues with a stark comparison of the two natures: 

The works of the flesh are these:  Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, sexual excesses, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings….

[Paul adds some powerful drama here with this warning…”As I have told you before in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.”]

But the fruit of the Spirit is:  Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance….

The differences are startling. 

As in any war, action must be taken in order to achieve victory.  The finger points at each one of us, dear Christians.  Will we remain passive and continue to tolerate the works of the flesh within us?  Or shall we rear up off our sanctified haunches and give way to the power of the Spirit to crucify this flesh?  The victory has already been won; we merely have to give the “Charge!” 

“Brethren, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.  Amen.”