Tag Archives: faith

Dec1

Joseph’s Response to The Cherry Tree Carol

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I have often wondered about many of the minor characters in the Bible especially the New Testament. As some of my friends may know I have written about some of them. The last was about the woman with the bleeding sickness: Mark 5: 25- 34 you can read that poem here: https://www.classicalpoets.org/if-i-could-but-touch-his-hem-a-poem-by-rohini-sunderam/

For the past few days this thought has been buzzing in my head. How did Joseph feel? After all he was a man in a strongly male-oriented society. He was marrying a woman who was already ‘with child’. He agreed. But he must have had doubts. Was he being conned by this whole ‘immaculate conception’ story? So here it is. What do you think?

Joseph prays

My Lord, my Lord, I know I’m old
And duty-bound to thee
To the virgin Mary, I am sold
The Queen of Galilee?

How can she a virgin be
My Lord, I ask of thee
The child she bears, she claims,
Is yours, my Lord, how can this be?

And am I then a cuckold fool
Oh Lord please answer me
Or dare I hope that I’m a tool
In your plan for eternity?

I need a sign my precious Lord
Please give a sign to me
We’re walking through a green orchard 
And now she wants cherries.

Oh Lord, I swear, in rage I swear
Oh Lord, forgive me, please
“Let the father of the baby, dare
To gather your cherries!”

Oh Lord, I thank you Lord indeed
For now, before my eyes
The tallest branch it bends to feed
Cherries, until she sighs.

Her cravings are then satisfied
I thank you, Abba Lord
For now, I know she is your bride
Of that I am assured!

And through this earthly journey, then
My wife she shall remain 
For somewhere in your vast, great plan
My name a place will gain.

And I shall take a backward stance
For salvation’s in her womb
I’ll never take a backward glance
For her sorrow’s in His tomb.

My role is merely as a dad
A constant figure, true
Another rock, for that I’m glad
My thanks, dear God to you. 

					


	

		


	
Nov30

	

											
The Silversmith

					
		

			
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While clearing out my email I came across this story. I hope you find it as hopeful as I did. The message is very much a Christian message, and that is the faith into which I was born and continue to profess and believe in.





Author Unknown

There was a group of women in a Bible study on the book of 
Malachi.  As they were studying chapter three they came across 
verse three which says, “He will sit as a refiner and purifier of 
silver.” This verse puzzled the women and they wondered what 
this statement meant about the character and nature of God. 

One of the women offered to find out about the process of refining 
silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study. That 
week the woman called up a silversmith and made an appointment 
to watch him at work. She didn’t mention anything about the 
reason for her interest in silver beyond her curiosity about the 
process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held 
a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that, 
in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of 
the fire where the flames were hottest so as to burn away all the 
impurities. 

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot – 
then she thought again about the verse, that He sits as a refiner 
and purifier of silver. She asked the silversmith if it was true that 
he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver 
was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had 
to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on 
the silver the entire time it was in the fire. For if the silver was 
left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed. 

The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the 
silversmith, “How do you know when the silver is fully refined?”  
He smiled at her and answered, “Oh, that’s the easy part — 
when I see my image reflected in it.” 

If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God 
has His eye on you and will keep His hand on you and watch 
over you until He sees His image in you.

					


	

		


	
Nov6

	

											
Lest we forget

					
		

			
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A painting by my friend Serena Stevens
A painting by my friend Serena Stevens may she rest in peace she battled cancer as valiantly as any soldier


November is a month to remember. Loved ones lost to all kinds of battles… on the front in war, of course, but there are other battles that some folk wage against disease – that dreaded, insidious, cancer; stroke victims, who wage a daily battle with bodies unwilling and unable to respond to the simplest of their wills; so many other ailments and conditions that render folk dealing with pain on a sub-chronic daily basis, the list is a long one. This November I’d like to remember them all.


I can’t name them, but they are all my heroes.


You and you and you, who see


Life ebbing by in slow degrees


For whom there was a time, I know


When nothing ever went so slow


Today your speech is locked behind


An uncooperative mind.


And you, why half your body can’t


Respond to anything you want.


And then there’s one who cannot turn


For pain that through his body burns


And there’s another one who, while


Her spirit breaks, yet she can smile.


Some have lost their limbs to bombs


And still they somehow all limp on


We know not who has been in war


But this we know, and know for sure


There are brave soldiers everywhere


Who need to know that we do care


For them, our poppies red


We wear and still a tear or two we’ll shed.


Fight on you brave immortal souls


The day will come, you’ll reach your goal.


And for those who are thinking of loved ones lost in war I have this to say in remembrance of ‘Poppy Day’.


The famous poem by John McCrae is reproduced below:


IN FLANDERS FIELDS


In Flanders fields the poppies blow


Between the crosses, row on row,


That mark our place; and in the sky


The larks, still bravely singing, fly


Scarce heard amid the guns below.


 


We are the Dead. Short days ago


We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,


Loved and were loved, and now we lie


In Flanders fields.


 


Take up our quarrel with the foe:


To you from failing hands we throw


The torch; be yours to hold it high.


If ye break faith with us who die


We shall not sleep, though poppies grow


In Flanders fields.


With so many wars that have been fought since that poem was written, I’d like to change it around a bit


Forget that quarrel with our foe


‘twill only lead to e’er more woe.


And who is foe may in the end


Turn ‘round and some day be a friend.


The only faith, that we need keep


Is, to try and end each day in peace.


 


Let the poppies, sweetly blow


Lest we forget those laid below


And should our leaders want a fight,


And rant and rave about what’s right,


Let’s hide the guns and send them in


To face each other in the ring.


Note: This post was first published a year ago. I have reworked it for the reasons above.

					


	

		


	
Dec3

	

											
The Relationship Bazaar

					
		

			
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I was greeted this morning with a Whatsapp message that was really moving and expressed in an almost Gibran-like ‘voice’. It was written in Hindi, and another friend, whose Hindi has fallen into disuse, couldn’t read it as fluently as he would have liked to. So I made a quick and hasty translation.


But, as with a lot of poetry, once something starts buzzing in your head, until you sit down and actually write it it won’t leave you. So, of course I did just that, and here it is:


The Relationship Bazaar


As I was walking in the marketplace


My feet stopped at the Relationship Bazaar.


I looked around and saw it filled


With kinship on sale for near and far


 


Relationships of every kind


Were offered everywhere


‘Relationships for sale’ they cried


‘Come buy a few to spare’


 


Each seller had a lively trade


And I walked up to one


‘Aha!’ he cried, ‘What will you buy?


I have everything under the sun!’


 


With trembling lips I asked the seller


‘How much and what’s for sale?’


With a flourish he said


‘Most everything and some beyond the pale.’


 


‘What would you like? What will you buy?


I have a wondrous range


Special ties with a son, or father


I have all good, some strange.’


 


‘Choose from a sister or a brother


Dear shopper what’s your choice?


Humanity or the love of mother


Faith? Pray, where is your voice?’


 


‘Come, come,’ he cajoled me,


‘Come, come, don’t hesitate!


Ask for something, anything


Your silence on me grates.’


 


With fear and sorrow in my voice


And with a great unease


I sighed and asked him, whispering


‘Do you have friendship, please?’


 


He stopped mid-sale, he stopped and stared


As if I’d lost my mind


Then tearfully he turned and said


‘Ah that is hard to find.


 


‘For friendship is the relationship


On which the world depends


It’s not for sale, it has no price


No price that can be named


 


For friendship is worth everything


This earth and then some more


It is a pure and selfless thing


And this you can be sure


 


The day that friendship’s offered


For a price and put on sale


Why then my dear, dear shopper


The world it will have failed


 


This globe will be uprooted


And lose its orbit quite


The day that friendship’s offered


And can be quoted for a price.