What I Shared At Mother's Funeral

Mother was an avid reader.
She read for herself and also read to us children, many times for an hour
every night.
She read us Bible stories, The Little House Series, and other classics.
She'd read until her voice got hoarse and then one of us would jump up
and get her some water so she could read some more.

She wrote down poetic thoughts on little pieces of paper and
when they came together in the way she liked,
she sometimes sent the finished poem to Gospel Herald
or Purpose magazine.
The editors recognized her ability to capture beauty
in everyday life and many of her works were published.

She kept a diary of our family life and described
our childhood antics and words.
She called this diary, "All in a Day."

She also kept a Devotional Journal in which she recorded
her Biblical insights and favorite quotes
from other writers.

Several years ago, I began to blog portions of her
Devotional Journals, using her chosen pen name,
I.B.Lieve.

As a matter-of-fact, when I recently told my mother
that people from all around the world were reading her
writings that I had blogged,
she shook her head and said,
"I can't think of anything I have written
that anyone would want to read."

The first poem I'm going to read was written
about me when I was 3 or 4 years old
upon finding a purple weed in the asparagus patch.
It was published in The Gospel Herald, June 4, 1963.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TO A WEED

You're just a lowly, common weed
Casting forth unwanted seed
But, then, one shining, golden hour
You changed into a lovely flower.
A little girl had chanced your way,
Stooped to touch you and to pray,
"Thank-you, God, for this flower I've found."
I felt I stood on holy ground.

Weed though you may be,
Henceforth I'll touch you
reverently.
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STORYTIME

Our house isn't as big
As the one next door
We need paint on the walls
And rugs on the floor
But I am as rich as rich can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

We have a big yard
But it isn't as neat
As lots of the other lawns
On our street
But I am content as I can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

And we do not have
The best thing in clothes
The shirt that I'm wearing
Used to be Joe's
But I am as proud as I can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

Oh, we do not own
A shiny, new car
With push-button windows
And hydraulic power
But I am happy as I can be
I have a mother who reads to me.

Our trips never take us
Far out-of-the-way
My dad doesn't have his
vacations with pay
But I have trips across the sea
Since I have a mother who reads to me.

(Written in the 1950's)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mother recently recited the following poem to Rosalee.

HYACINTHS

Oh, gathered clumps
Of the rainbow's hue;
Though it was enough,
He gave perfume, too.

(Published in Gospel Herald in the 1960's)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(When "Winter Storm" was published on the cover of Purpose magazine,
my Grandpa Diffy was really proud of Mother and her poem!
December 7, 1980)

WINTER STORM

Soft Snow Sifted Soundlessly
through Sodden Starless Skies
While Winter Winds Waited
till the Whiteness
was Wide and Deep.
Then Blew Boisterously
Billowing into Beauty
Boulders
that Blotted out
old Ruts and Scars.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And my favorite.

AND WHEN THEY HAD SUNG A HYMN
Matthew 26:30

Wouldn't you like to have heard Him sing?
This man from Galilee,
The Creator of the universe,
The Master of land and sea,
Savior of the sick and sinful,
Bringing hope and harmony.
Wouldn't you like to have heard Him sing
That night before Calvary?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This poem was published in the Gospel Herald
in the 1960's.

A WAY OF ESCAPE

A way of escape
When the burdens press
And the spirit grows heavy
With the strain and the stress?

A way of escape
When the heart freezes with fear
As we watch o'er a loved one
And death seems so near?

A way of escape
When temptations come fast
And we weaken and tremble
Beneath the strong blast?

Yes, He has promised.
Relax in His care.
In a way least expected
He'll answer your prayer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now I'd like to share some thoughts from her devotional journal.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Darkness and God
"The people stood afar off, while Moses drew near
to the thick darkness where God was." Ex. 20:21

What a contrast. And what courage Moses had.
I'm sure all his previous experiences with God
enabled him to do this.
God and darkness do not seem compatible.
How does this relate to those dark times in our lives?
Certainly, He is there, for one thing.

I would rather go into the darkness where God is
than to follow that 'angel of light' to where He is not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In My Boat

The disciples were rowing the boat across the Sea of Galilee
and 'the sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing.'

But when Jesus came to them,
walking on the rough sea,
and got into the boat with them,
'immediately the boat was at the land
to which they were going.'

What an experience that must have been.

From severe struggles to an instant arrival
at their destination.

And I wonder about that.

Does He do today for His disciples?

Or does He stay with us in the storm
till we reach our destination?
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