Survivor Mode Post #2

This week I thought I would focus on this poem I wrote several years ago for our church's holiday booklet. It gives you some information and insight into my life growing up in the Midwest in the 60's and 70's.


My family has always held dear the hope that a loving God was with us always.

A gentle steady faith from deep within.
Ever hopeful, not hopeless even in the darkest days,
Our hope for good to prevail with strong faith,
Loving family and church to guide us along the way.

Hope for God's good favor through times of family barbecues with hand-cranked ice cream, beautiful crops, plentiful gardens, cool spring water to drink,
Clean clothes to wear, darned socks and resoled shoes, money enough to purchase eye glasses for all.

Hope also filled our hearts through tough times as well.
Hard times of born-too-soon babies,
Frail of body but fierce in spirit.
Hope filled fervent prayers to welcome them to the growing family.

Hope for miracles actualized when God's hand formed bone from nothing;
Finally enabling a young boy to Stand and Walk.
No longer using strong arms to drag useless legs behind him
And experts at long last arriving at a diagnosis allowing my brother to flourish
And live a full life.

As the years went by my family remained hopeful,
With lives full of family, friends and church - even as we scattered across the land.

But we have banded together again in recent years hopeful, agonizingly praying for the loss of another so we could have a few extra years with our beloved patriarch.

This year as we approach the birth of Jesus we have come full circle.
Rallying around a mother's only daughter.
Once again frail of body, but hope filled and awesome in spirit.
Diligently trying to make her way back into the family fold.

My family still is very close - in distance and spirit - minus my father who passed in 2000. My family visits me often, and so in that way I still feel included. Have a great week. I'll be back and hope you will be too.

Darci