In the Cedar Chest

Hi everyone!
 
I’m back after another break. This poem was written as a reminder that the craze for “new” and “more” in this holiday season does not satisfy and is not the point of Christmas. We need to look backward to an ancient gift given over and over and over again to us each year: grace. God’s grace is new every morning (see Lamentations 3:23), and it looks especially bright on the dawn of His Son’s birthday.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
“In the Cedar Chest”
 
as the sun rises on a chilly neighborhood, you flop
out of bed and reach for an outfit
to wear today. you lay out the same thing
you always do, frown, and decide you’re
tired of the same-old. so you dig
through your cedar chest
and rediscover a magnificent sweater
you had completely
forgotten.
 
it is a hand-me-down that you got
from your grandfather ten years ago at Christmas;
it is tightly hand-knit with bold colors, warm and sturdy.
you wonder how it got to the bottom
of the chest but can’t remember. It doesn’t matter
because today the sweater gets another chance.
 
people ask you where you got it,
how much it cost, and where can they get one?
you tell them it was a family gift from long ago
and then watch as these people slowly drop the questions
about price tags and outlets and start to wonder
what treasures they have forgotten
in their own cedar chests.
 
 
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In the Cedar Chest by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

gift

Hi everyone,
 
Sorry I’ve been gone so long, but I’m back with a new poem!
 
The Apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12 that God is behind every spiritual gift, and that means each gift and person has a purpose in the community. But sometimes we don’t feel like we’re equally important. We can’t figure out our spiritual gifts, or the ones we do have don’t seem like they do as much as somebody else’s. We feel simply inadequate to do God’s work.
 
This poem was inspired by wise words from my brother, who reminded me that Jesus is not just looking at the number of good things we’re doing or the number of people we’re physically helping with our talents; instead, He’s really looking at how we live the lives to which He called us. Reflecting on this, I realized that with Jesus’s power, our talents will help us reach and be all we can be no matter how small our talents seem to us.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

gift (noun): 
  
gift: willingly given without payment
    something you offer
                   in outstretched hands.
Each of us has gifts
    bestowed on us by God
to share with our
    broken, hungry planet.
our gifts 
      do not always reveal themselves
  wrapped in bright paper
          neat, with bows and ribbons
     and simple answers. 
sometimes we wonder 
     what they do, exactly? 
You stand here with yours and
        you want to give it,
    but it feels so intangible
        sometimes and
                 does not seem to go far,
           does not seem to touch enough lives.
wise words: stop tallying up how many,
       how much, how often.
when you stand at the pearly gates
     Jesus will not have an abacus 
         to count off exactly how many people you fed
              or talked to or gave to,
     He will look at how you lived;
more wise words: live your life,
       period. live and be a silent witness;
   giving without counting, loving without bounds. 

 
(Acknowledgment: Thanks to my godmother who helped edit this poem, and to my brother for his wisdom)
 
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gift by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.