I pull out the pages
weathered thin by time
It wasn’t written by the sages
but still my memories climb
of the storyteller
who penned the names
of a long forgotten feller
Written across a branch called James.
The family tree
is there to see
and I trace the signature
For it is my cure
As it heals my sorrow
There will be another tomorrow
our reunion will take place
and we will meet face to face
Baby girl
and father swirl
in a rhythm of praise
To our Savior’s amazing grace.
Okay, my poetry prose needs a little priming.
I don’t know
the words just flow
and now I can’t stop rhyming.
The signature
a calligrapher
is a familiar
pen
And my thoughts begin
at stories told
my father sold
to me and my baby brother
“we will meet again”
Comes from the His grin
and He promises another.
“I’m coming soon.
So watch skies.”
Sing my Savior’s croon.
“no more tries
can be had.”
As He cries,
“Carry on,
My will be done
On earth as it is beyond.”
How silly. Dad’s handwriting just brought it out in me. The names written on this family tree before me are part of my DNA. There is no denying it. As I reflect on his signature I know I could recognize it no matter how quickly I flip through the pages. Then the Lord speaks to me, “I should recognize His signature so familiarly.” God has written His name across the pages of my life. My spiritual DNA is made up from the people in His book.
In writing conferences you hear the question, “What is your platform?”
“What is it Lord?” I question Him. “Flip through the pages of your life and you will see. I AM writing that out. You are different and unique. All my children are.”
The words and the stories of my second book are coming slowly. I try to speed up but then I hear His whisper, “Slow down and enjoy the journey.” I review the days and I recognize His signature written across the pages. I have a platform. I begin to see it. It is my testimony but written in the chapters of His Love Story. I see our world in days long past in the journeys of our Savior. Crowds were stirred and mobs were frenzied because He spoke words they did not want to hear. Parents cried and they came begging for The Healer’s touch upon their child who lay sick and dying. The same holds true even in this modern world with all our medicine and technology. Children get sick. Parents become desperate. It sends us running into the outstretched arms of The Great Physician. These stories stand the test of time because they are Truth that covers every fear.
Each day I write, I try to tumble into those days. I close my eyes and try to read from their side of His Story. God develops a cherished character that narrates the emotions at each stop “On the Way.” At the end of each day you will meet a new friend to guide you deeper into His Story. Ava heard the dreaded words, “Unclean! Unclean!” These were pronounced over her husband. She was left alone as he walked up the hill to the leper’s colony. Her neighbors shunned her and loneliness drove her to the banks of the Jordan. She heard the words of the Father’s love from One who was her Messiah. She took the hand of a fisherman named Simon and he dipped her into the river. Her loneliness and her sins floated away because Jesus had come to save her.
You will meet Yaash, whose name means despair. His son lay dying until The Healer spoke the words, “You son will live.” These words traveled through time and space and brought life where death once loomed.
That’s His Signature in my writing. I see it now so clearly. It is as familiar to me as my own sweet dad’s. I can not wait for you to meet my friends as they encounter Our Savior “On the Way.”