I am sure I posted this poem before, but it touched me again today.
Originally, I wrote it during the first week of October, 2001, when I was on a depression stage of life after 9/11 and camping at the North Shore to come to God's emotional healing, which, miraculously, did occur.
So sharing it with you, again.
"You hug your husband, and
Tell him you appreciate him,"
Steve, the wise one, said.
I did -- and I do.
"I'm sending you my representative,"
Abba said to me,
Those years ago.
And in the season of robins and lilacs,
He bounced through my door --
One of a group.
For some reason, I noticed.
And weeks later, we noticed --
And then we got married.
[Just about that fast --
and that shocking --
[Because the world would never have put us together,
but Abba did.]
He was not who I expected --
I was a surprise to him.
[I still am sometimes, I think.]
But if I know nothing else in this life
to be true,
I know my Abba sent His representative.
A bit of extra info. The "Steve" is my son, and, as I was preparing to head 600 miles away from home to deal with fear and depression, he wanted me to consider Dave's heartache when I would be gone. My son was realistic. Dave, however, knew this was a trip God was sending me on, so he wasn't breaking down or afraid. He knew I needed healing and that that location would be a good one for it.
While up there without him, talking to him once a day on a public phone in the Tettagouche Camp center, he continued to encourage me.
This poem poured into my heart as a result.
It truly is my Dave.