The Golden Years? (Stairways of Silent Tears)

2 Timothy 2:3 (NLV)

Take your share of suffering as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

 

God bless our dear #seniors who have given their lives and have sacrificed so much to raise their families. Seniors need our #love, #care and #companionship. Let us all remember, if the Lord terries one day we to will be a #senior.

***

Through aged eyes they see strangers,
where is the family that they have borne?

Long hallways of endless panels,
take the place of delightful garden paths

longing for companionship,
an endless stairway of silent tears

The desire to visit the old homestead,
in its place just shadows of the past

Days and weeks blend into years,
happiness fading into loneliness

Gnarled hands that yearn for touch,
once worked hard to raise a family

Straining for sound of child’s footsteps…
only voices of the past linger in their mind

Dear souls who gave so much, now are given less, 
where is the family that they have borne?

So much is taken but how much is given?
love~respect~honour-! this is their right, is their cry

Todays ~ tomorrows turn into yesterdays~
memories they ache to share

Tenderly with helplessness their hearts cry out,
just take a moment~ can you spare a minute?

Through aged eyes they see strangers
Oh where is the family that they have borne?

KJS

Stairs of Silent Tears

 

Ephesians 6:2 (KJV)

Honour thy father and mother; which is the first commandment with promise;

 

These years of the elderly, are so fragile and a time in life when they need to be surrounded by #love #family #support #affection and #kindness,. Don’t let their last years of life slip away being left alone left with a “stairway of silent tears” #Help remove the shackles of loneliness and neglect, and replace them with compassion and embrace time spent with them.

God bless

***

Reaching Your Zion (Shackled by the Past?)

 

*In crossing your desert remember, there is beauty ~ life in the cactus bloom…

 

As a writer sometimes there is the tendency to keep re-visiting the past. This can be an area of possibility to get lodged, at times too comfortable?

There is a scale of balance when dealing with the past. We would have to ask ourselves the question, Why do we return to this country of former existence? What draws us to come back time and time again? Is it the ideals of wishing or wanting? Perhaps fuelling the need to change the avenue of thoughts? Actions that ushered the soul to sadness or… led our hearts to unchained happiness?

 

This place I speak of, a desert ~ one barely existing ~ living from promise to trial…

 

This place I speak of, a garden ~ one flourishing ~ blooming from love to purpose…

 

Whether this “place” is a desert or a garden, it could be a haven ~ retreat from this world that we are strangers in, sojourning. Let’s balance the scales, Haven? ~ Hideaway?

 

As Christians ~ Writers ~ Pilgrims… we need to ask ourselves the question, Can I reach my Zion by these frequent visitations? Are these visits refueling our FAITH and strength? or… Are these visits draining our FAITH tank, leaving us sputtering and choking?

 

Some find their Saviour ~ Salvation in their desert! 

Some may find the dried bones of past struggles ~ the minds war!

Some perhaps only returning to their desert to view the mirage of hope…

 

The possibilities ~ perhaps

The hazards ~ cautions

 

If I were to ask myself ~ you to honourably describe the reality of your desert in three words…

 Is that even possible?

What would the three words tell us?

 Nothing in our lives happen by chance. God has divine purpose for each one of our lives. Whether we go through deserts, climb mountains, swim the waters of life, there is always purpose ~ justification. 

 As a Writer we can prayerfully use these deserts ~ gardens to inspire ~ encourage!

May we always truthfully pray for God’s will…

 

In our lives

In our writing

In our deserts

In our gardens

 

Remember…

Amidst your scorching, barren desert of silence,

if you listen close, you will hear the voice of your spring ~ of living water.

Kathy J Snow©

Image