God will not Forget You

For my mother, Sharon Mayforth, in honour of Alzheimer’s Awareness Month.

You may continually misplace your keys

Misfile your favourite recipe

Drop a word or two or three

You may lose all track of time

Or lose your way on your way home

Or not recall you’ve told that story once or thrice before

You may forget to water plants, to feed the fish, or put on pants

Yes, there’s a chance you will forget to bathe or brush your teeth or comb your hair

But more than this, I’d be remiss, if I did not mention that amidst these small and trivial things, much greater matters will give way

You’ll lose your very sense of self, your independence, and your health

Confusion will become the order of the day

You’ll wander through your muddled mind and find the jumbled words and ghost of memories past do not express your needs and is there anyone who understands?

The biggest grief will come when you no longer recognize the ones you love

They will be strangers all

Before you think, if this befall you that you’ve been committed to some special sort of hell

And lose all hope and finally despair

I tell you

God will not forget you

He did knit you in your mother’s womb

He knows you as the artist knows each brushstroke and the finished piece

Your worth is not diminished by diminishing capacities

His love does not depend on you possessing all your faculties

No loss can separate you from the love of Christ

He’s carved you on His hands and feet

Though this may be your final trial

Please know that in a little while

You’ll be the blessed one to see Him face to face

And clarity will dawn

And you will rest in Him, confident that you will not forget again

No

God will not forget you

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The feature pic is an edit by me of a pic from Pixabay. Footer from Pixabay. Posts come out when I feel like it. 😀 Scroll down to the bottom of the page to follow me or sign up to receive my posts via email. Follow me on Instagram. Take a peek at my Redbubble store Pollyeloquent.redbubble.com and my clothing design page on Le Galeriste. Thank you for giving me some of your precious time!

News Flash: You are NOT Enough

I don’t remember a lot of lack growing up. My parents worked hard to provide for us. We weren’t wealthy, but we had what we needed with some extras, with the exception of socks. I remember having a lack of socks. I regularly, and with no small amount of chagrin, annoyedimg_0320 my sister, stealing her socks, because my sock drawer always seemed to be bare. I don’t remember asking my mother for socks. I’m sure she’d have coughed up the socks, if I’d have expressed my need to her. To this day, I can’t get enough socks and if I had a wad of cash, I’d be spending it on gobs of unique socks. Continue reading “News Flash: You are NOT Enough”

A Hand Up

Jesus healed so many when he was on this earth, but there is one story that stands out to me after celebrating Easter. It’s the story of the raising of Jairus’s daughter found in Mark 5:21-43. For those of you who don’t know the story, Jesus was approached in a large crowd by Jairus, a synagogue leader, an important man in the community. This man was so desperate, he threw himself at Jesus’s feet even in this packed setting. The crowd must have parted for such a display. He explained his daughter was gravely ill and begged Jesus to come and heal her, something Jesus was now famous for. Jesus was willing, but the crowd made his leaving slow going. I imagine Him wading through a sea of grabby hands. Everyone wanted a piece of His power. According to the text, He healed a woman in transit, someone with so much faith that she tugged on his cloak and the power left Him, freeing her from 12 years of pain and suffering. Not one to heal and run, Jesus addressed her, but even this brief encounter was too long for Jairus and his daughter. As Jesus finished up with her, others arrived with the sad news that Jairus’s daughter had succumbed to her illness. They urged Jairus not to “bother” the teacher anymore. Jesus, overhearing the conversation, assured Jairus it was no bother and told him not to be afraid, which I find curious. I, of course, looked up the synonyms for the word “afraid”, because I associate this word with being frightened and it didn’t seem to fit this situation. Discouraged, disheartened, disturbed, anxious, upset, were all words one could use in its place. “Don’t be rattled,” Jesus said (my paraphrase). “I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”img_4194

Continue reading “A Hand Up”

A White Christmas?

I’m dreaming of a dry Christmas

Just like the ones I’ve rarely known

Where the trees are bare

And children stare

And cry because there isn’t any snow

I’m dreaming of a dry Christmas

With every trip I take outside

May your days feel more like July

And may all your Christmases be dry

Snow. I’m not a fan. Sure, it’s very pretty at times, even dreamy, when it’s wafting down slowly in flakes the size of feathers, forming a crystalline blanket of softness on surfaces. It shushes things. Traffic lessens, as a slippery sheen is laid down. People stay inside. They cocoon, wrapping themselves in wooly sweaters and self-administering hot liquids. They’re content to look at the snow like one looks at snowfall-16319_1920fish in a fish tank. It’s rather mesmerizing to watch the world fade to white and familiar forms, like vehicles, obscure to fluffy mounds. Unfortunately, snow’s beauty is fleeting. Try travelling in the open country in a blizzard where you can’t see 2 feet in front of your vehicle and, I guarantee, you won’t be so enamored with it. For a day, fresh and pure, it’s enchanting, but, as the winter drags on, driven snow clumped with salt, sand, and gravel is ugly, especially when the sticky stuff sticks around for months. Soon enough, most people can hardly stand the sight of it. Continue reading “A White Christmas?”