Glory Over Everything

Hometown

I’ve always lived in my hometown, as a young girl my plans were to leave for a more exciting pasture.  But alas, I fell in love, married young, had a few babies, who have now flown the nest.  They search for exciting pastures of their own.  Though they left us with instructions that we are to never move,  even from this old house.  Now we find ourselves the keepers of home, for them.

I am reminded of words that my Dad spoke often to those he loved, who were longing to leave.  “Go, see the world, just remember, you can always come home.”  

Hometown

I know its streets,

T\the curves, the bricks,

the crumbling ones by railroad tracks.

 

I know its buildings,

the ones falling in piece by piece,

the hopeful ones, being made new.

 

I know its fountain,

the one in central park,

that calls out for children to come and dangle their feet.

 

I know the places that hold treasure,

the coffee shop that pours liquid gold,

the place that smells of books and wood.

 

I know its people,

the familiar bank teller,

who seeing my sorrow, cupped my hands in hers

 

The grandfather who walks in the mornings,

once cradling a bundle,

now steadies the back of a of a pink bicycle.

 

The young man, I silently cheered on,

as he lumbered along Main Street,

now runs.

 

The mother in the electric wheelchair,

who waits at the bus stop,

in the sun, the rain, the snow.

 

It is a place where life is lived,

smiles are shared,

and shoulders rub.

 

Were dreams vanish, like paint fading in the sun,

yet hope can be found around the next corner.

 

I know the place of the white birch,

where the seasons change, each beautiful one.

Copy of Untitled

 

Poetry · Uncategorized

Home

Here most of us are, sitting at home.  On any normal day isn’t this the place we long to be?

Here is a little reminder of the beauty of Home –

 

Home

A place of solitude

The building of a sanctuary

Where peace is found

 

A place of communion

The ringing of laughter

Where joy is shared

 

A place of gathering

The keeping of conversations

Where bonds are made

 

A place of meals

The filling of the empty

Where hearts are warmed  

 

A place where wisdom is taught

The falling of tears

Where grace is given

 

A place of warm blankets

The drifting off to sleep

Where rest is found 

 

A place of understanding

The art of listening close

Where knowledge is known

 

A holy place

Where rooms are filled

With precious and pleasant riches

 

D.E. White 

Faith · Poetry

Behind the Poem: Home

I love everything about home.

I love coming home at the end of the day and pulling on my cozy clothes.

I love standing in my kitchen preparing a meal.

I love sitting around the table with family and friends, and the conversation that is found there.

And I love this scripture about home.

By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures. Proverbs 24:3-4

It takes wisdom to build a house.

Home is the place where we purpose to understand each other. The safe place where we and our children are established.

It’s where our minds are filled with knowledge of God as our heads bend over our Bibles.

Home is where we can ask hard questions, ponder the things of God, and help one another understand.

The knowledge that we find in a home built by wisdom are like rooms filled with rare and beautiful treasure. 🏡