When Hope Is Lost. . .

The past few months have been gut-wrenching.

I have questioned if I have the fortitude to tackle the seemingly impossible obligations in front of me.

I have learned many things in the past months. . .

It is what it is. Prayers can be sent up to God who loves me. . .but, it is what it is and God’s will be done.

I didn’t get the world I wanted; I got the world that I got.

The only effective strategy is to walk through the fire. Just walk.

The worst advice I have been given is “Be encouraged.”

No, I am not encouraged. . .it is indeed grim and I must face it.

I have sat in hospital waiting rooms these past few months and gotten a front row seat to human suffering. I have stopped turning my eyes away. I look and acknowledge the fragility of life and then I acknowledge the time that we waste with petty grievances. Time can never be recouped. Use it wisely.

In the end of this life’s journey we just need to feel our loved one’s hand in ours.

I have placed my hand in my loved one’s hand and prayed to God in heaven; I have pleaded for a different outcome.

I am a stubborn, bull-headed sort of soul. I do not know how to give up. I beg God on a nearly hourly basis. He, after all, is my father. I beg God to change the trajectory of this.

And, I will always believe in miracles.

And, a miracle is needed for my loved one.

God will walk me through this fire. God will keep His hand upon me. God will.

God’s will be done.

I cannot change the trajectory of any of this.

Please pray for my loved one and for all those who are suffering, especially those who are alone without anyone to care for them.

This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

But, I believe in God with all my heart, mind, and soul. He has made promises to be my strength and my fortress and to always comfort me.

Now, in the silence of my soul, I just need to sit and rest, and look at the blooming pink petunias in my garden and trust that God is with me.

Please pray for a miracle.

Thank you.

Copyright 2024 Jenny W. Andrews

Rescued

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Rescued

In a remembered hour, wine colored circles expand around an amber-hued memory.

Spiraling down a tunnel; drifting, darkness, decay.

Expecting not to be rescued; God reached for me, anyway.

 

 

Jenny W. Andrews Copyright 2020

 

I am currently working on a second poetry collection.  I plan to include this poem in that collection.  I am including my original photography, as well.

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Thanks.

 

Jenny