Repurposed ... and Ready To Go

A few entries back I told about a dream of being taken to heaven. So here I am in the now. And I want to be there but my life is not finished yet. It must be like walking on the moon .... leaping over craters in lead boots .... feeling weightless. Then coming to earth again where every step seems like an effort. I have a lower threshold of tolerance for frustration. I pray more. Heaven comes down and glory fills my soul. All is well. I can take the next step.

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Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Today I am most thankful for heaven. I am thankful for my daughter who loves me and is waiting for me there. I am thankful for Christ who has made all this possible and who loves me too. I am thankful that he is here with me now that my life seems so much harder to bear .... and then he makes it easy for me. I am thankful for my family and loved ones who are the reason I am still here. I love you ... see you tomorrow. I am thankful for the pleasure I find in my work .... I mean knitting and quilting and not so much scrubbing toilets. I am thankful for my health and my home. I'm thankful for the purpose which has me here ... But what shall I do? I do not know. For me to die is gain and to live is Christ (Apstl. Paul). I shall remain .... and I pray it is to bless you. I'm thankful for Haiti ... and for the chance to open my home to more children. I'm thankful for the promises of God .... I will never leave you or forsake you.... Bless the Lord O my soul.

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Beaulah

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Ahme, ahme, my feet shift on alien soil.

This place is not my home.

My heart ache for motherland.

I believe she will receive me on her knees.

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I stand on fringes of the shore.

Do not hold me back. My heart ache for motherland.

I will lay my head to rest upon her knees.

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Why stay where I do not belong?

My feet do not know this dance.

My heart ache for motherland.

I will be kissed and dandled on her knees.

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This land, it leaves my belly empty.

So that I forget I am more than beast.

My heart ache for motherland.

She will feed me golden cornbread from her knees.

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Ahme, ahme, this place is not my home.

~Melanie R. Bird
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Mihereta Yesus II*

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Look on the one adored,

Who once blackened and cast down,

Now in graceful pillared

service of her Lord.

Daughter of the Son,

O holy one,

The golden gleam

Upon you head

pierced the hand

That placed it there.
Your glory given

To slaughter lead

The one who took

Your shame to bear.

The faithful wounds
His lips have healed

With tender touch

Your heart has sealed.

And of his goodness you confess,

The lovers hands with mercy dress.

~Melanie R. Bird

(Mihereta Yesus, Eritrean for The Compassion of Jesus)

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My Comforter Comes

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Let me see your face,

Gentle smile trace.

To the dark belong

Comfort, mother song.

Feather soft your touch,

Slipping down to such

A weary lover.

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Hush me with a whisper,

Kiss of evening vesper.

Sweet the words are said,

Falling on my head.

Like a bird they hover,

Or a downy cover,

Settled on my heart.

~Melanie R. Bird