today i grow

In God’s Word, He tells us (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, NIV): “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot….” In days of change, I pray we can remember the past ways, rejoice in the new ways, and bring love to all the stages of our lives.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

“today i grow”
 
weeping my farewells
    I watch them cut her 
       branch by branch
down to her roots.
     I am not ready
          to see her shade stolen
          and her tangled arms
                  wave goodbye.
 
Yet, today I say farewell.
 
As she leaves, though, I must
       celebrate the new
    sapling 
            planted in her place.
in memory of her old limbs and
      knots and dappled days I
      know the skinny branches 
and fresh buds of
          twirling young flowers 
      are just
as precious as she.
  
     today I give welcome.
 
once upon a time
     eyes like mine must have watched 
her beginning:
     a seedling pale and green.
  A heart like mine
rejoiced at her growth and
    loved her in the early days
before she could shade others
   beneath years of slowly blooming wisdom.
 
In farewell, in welcome, in loving,
        today I grow. 

 
 
Creative Commons License
today i grow by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Below the Cross

I wrote this while reflecting on Christ’s sacrifice on Good Friday and His incredible strength and courage in the face of such pain and evil. By His grace, that strength is in us as well.

God bless,
Morgan

“Below the Cross”
 
for a mere moment
my eyes fall shut on the crowds below.
shouts and jeers rush into the darkness,
a surge of oily hatred.
I rally and force my bruised eyelids
back open and see a sea of enemies
that I love,
for whom I hang by
bloody wrists pinned to wood
by long, black nails.
 
they shove sponges of vinegar into
my parched mouth and bid me
save myself.
but oh, my little lost ones, I did not come
to save myself.
I cannot come down.
My mission looks bleak in the face of
hundreds of sharp eyes glaring from
the ground of the Skull.
i have walked among these people, healed
their sick, held their children, taught
their hearts truth,
but darkness stands tall and gruesome in this
late hour.
 
sagging, choking on my own weight and
the burdens one by one mounting on top
of my whipped shoulders with every call of
Crucify him I
keep my eyes open and
I tell you, children, though you cannot see
in the black hell you have summoned here,
I tell you I am stronger
than your malice and your fear.
for in losing all I have, I gain your freedom
by the name of grace abundant.
 
as you hear my dying cries, listen,
for I am crying that I love you.
Though in darkness you see me leave today
I will be back for you,
my little ones
at the foot of my cross.
 
 
Creative Commons License
Below the Cross by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.