Beachpoet
Inspirational
It's All About Jesus
Letter To A Friend
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"The heaven of the heavens cannot contain my God..." and He lives in me     1 Kings 8:27
                                             Still Barbara

Yesterday a strong wind came        And yet you are frail
Golden leaves floated                     Tossed by a world's wind
     Delicate—  Fragile—
                                                      I miss your soft touch
I thought of you.                            On the piano keys.

A golden leaf                                  I miss your unique sensitivity,
Perfect in every detail                     I miss your smile,
     Fashioned by God—                            
     Protected by God—                  I miss you---
     Loved by God—

You are strong
You show us all
     What courage is—                          
Dedicated to the memory of a
     What strength is—                         
dear friend who died of ovarian
     What faith is—                               
cancer



My Soul Longeth...
                     A Special Touch

I could see heat waves coming from the pavement on the freeway ahead as I entered the on-ramp.  As courier driver for the library I came this way three times a week delivering crates of books to the branches and picking theirs up to return to headquarters.  A woman stood waving her arms at me.  Off to one side I saw her stalled car.  The hillside looked brown and yellow, parched by the unrelenting sun.

A wave of heat blasted through the window of the van as I opened it.

"Please help me," the woman pleaded.  "My car quit and I"m going to be late for work.  It's just three miles down the freeway.  Could you give me a ride?"

My boss's words ran through my head.  "Under no circumstances are you to pick anyone up.  You can offer the use of your cell phone in an emergency, that's all.  You're never to have a passenger except for training purposes."  She had gone on to explain it was for my protection more than anything else.

I wasn't worried about my protection as I unlocked the passenger door.

"I am so grateful.  I didn't know what to do.  I was afraid to walk on the freeway—"

"You can't walk three miles in this heat, anyway."

"I'm just so grateful.  What is your name?"

I told her my name and she introduced herself as Bobbi.  The three miles passed quickly and I let her out.  She waved and thanked me again and I went on my way.

Through the rest of the afternoon I couldn't quit thinking of her.  Something kept pulling me back to her face, her voice— her name.  The more I thought of her the more I was filled with a sort of expectant joy.  Finally, I recognized this feeling.  "Lord, what?  What is it, Lord?"  I waited quietly for His answer. 

Before long a scene began building in my mind.  A football field filled with food and entertainment and a lot of people.  I was seeing a company annual picnic.  Several years ago I went with a friend who introduced me to Bobbi and her husband.  I had never expected to see them again.  It was one of those "wow" moments.  What a great feeling to know God touches us individually and personally to remind us that He is a personal God.

Job tells us God knew him from his mother's womb.   He has numbered the hairs on our head and I believe He names each of us as He did in so many accounts in the bible.  According to Zec 12:1, God forms our spirit within us.  We know we are, each one, a unique being because God made us that way.  He not only knows us individually, He loves us individually.  He reminds us of this every so often with a special touch— a personal touch from an awesome God.

                    A Sweet Aroma


An angel played
"There's Something About That Name"
While I prayed for you.
Something magic happened...
That very moment.

I heard an angel pass by
Carrying my prayer
The swish of her wings
Brushed my cheek...
Then a holy silence.

She carried my prayer
With love and Grace,
To the heavens above
And offered it on...
The Throne of God.




This poem was inspired by a special lady
Who plays the piano like an angel.

For me, poetry comes out in sentences,
whole thoughts, paragraphs...
the words pour until the well is dry

They come out simple, child-like,
Without announcement or explanation.

A song, a smile on a child's face...
God works that way in my life.
He shows me the beauty in simple things.