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Okay, blogging buddies, I’m in the mood for another story challenge this week. Write me a story (or a poem if you prefer) that includes the following:
A COW
A BARBER
`
A CHILD OR CHILDREN
(Boys or girls, any age)
Word limit: 500 words or less.
Remember that my blog is “G” Rated.
Post your story on your own blog and hop over here and put the link to it in the “Comments” section of this post. Also make any comments you like as well.
Time limit: Challenge will run through next Saturday, May 10, 2014, and will close at 12:00 midnight that night (U.S. Central Daylight Time). But, of course, if you want to post a story any time after the 10th, that’s fine.
Feel free to use any of these pictures with your own story if you’d like to do so.
Happy Writing!
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Are you buried deep in sorrow
Over past and hurtful wounds?
Has the weight of your own failures
Left you feeling failure-doomed?
Has the peril of the systems
Of the economic sphere
Left you beaten down and overwhelmed
And buried under fear?
Has the rampant spread of sickness,
Diagnosis of sure death,
Left you reeling in confusion,
Condemned to draw your final breath?
Then look away: from all the darkness,
From the death and fear and pain.
Hear the rumble of the tombstone
As it rolls from off the grave.
See the lightning flash of glory
As the Son begins to rise,
As He steps from death’s dark dungeon:
The successful sacrifice.
Hear Him say, “The curse is broken!
I have come to give you life.
Ask of Me, and I will answer;
I have victory for your strife.
I’ve a storehouse of provisions;
I have healing for your pain;
I’ve forgiveness for your sin,
And I can make you clean again.
“For as surely as I died for you,
Took all your sin on me,
So My resurrection power is yours;
Enough to set you free.
There is no price;
It’s for the taking.
But the only place you’ll find it
Is in Me.”
~
`
How deep and dark the grave in which they laid the Lord.
And naught to give Him hope except the Father’s Word.
But ’twas enough, for God had said, “When day three comes,
You’ll rise with life anew and come again to Home.”
Throughout the vigil, silence reigned and men did mourn.
And in the halls of Hell, the demons, they did groan:
This man from off the cross had stormed their barriers staid.
Hell panicked at the word from Heaven: “The price is paid!”
Then Jesus, Son of God and Son of Man, stepped forth
And grasped the keys of Death and Hell with violent force.
Then rose through realms beneath to burst from earth and grave.
His shout of victory rang abroad: “Mankind is saved!”
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O, Lamb of God
So pure, so holy, undefiled,
You came so meekly,
Vulnerable, a tiny child.
You took our sin
And took all of its consequence.
You chose the cross,
And on it your lifeblood was spent.
But for what cause,
When tempted in the garden that night,
Did you still choose
To let yourself be crucified?
You told us, Lord;
If we’d just listen, we would know.
You said, “Because
I love the Father, I will go.”
Lord, work in us
That holy and obedient love,
That we, when tried,
Will speak and act only for God.
~~~
(Photo courtesy of Karen’s Whimsy)
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“What will Christmas bring, Mom?”
“Why, Son, ’twill bring you lots of toys and joys.”
“What else will Christmas bring, Mom?”
“Well, fun and games with other girls and boys.”
“But later on in life, Mom,
Will Christmas mean a lot when I am grown?”
“Oh, yes, it will mean more, Son.
For as you grow, a great truth you’ll be shown.
“You’ll learn that Jesus came, Son,
Not just to be a babe in manger sweet,
But to grow up a strong man,
Horrible death and suffering to meet.
“He came to take our sin, Son
And pay the price for it on Calvary.
So God could look upon us all
And shout, ‘From sin and all its curse you’re free!’”
“But I love the little babe, Mom.
I don’t want to think He died for me.”
“That’s what makes Christmas grand, Son:
That Jesus came to die and set us free.”
“You mean, the little baby, Mom?
He had to die and never live again?”
“No, Son, on Resurrection Day,
He rose victorious o’er death for all men.
“This truth of Christmas time, Son,
I think you now begin to understand:
It was the birth of death to sin,
And of eternal life for every man.”
~~~
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Nathaniel was a man who knew no guile.
He walked with Jesus, loved Him all the while.
When first he heard His name, a question posed
But waited ’til the answer was disclosed.
“From Nazareth can any good come forth?”
He asked of those who knew that city’s worth.
He asked for meditation, not reply,
Yet found the answer true in Jesus’ eyes.
And although from the garden he did run
With others as they scattered one by one,
As Roman guards led Jesus, bound, away,
There came a reckoning after the third day.
As Mary ran to spread the glorious news,
Nathaniel, hidd’n with others, all confused,
Received her words with doubt, and hope, and fear,
And hungered so His Master’s voice to hear.
Then Jesus stood among them, His work done:
Salvation for the world from Nazareth comes.
~~~
(Scripture Reference: John 1: 45-51, John 20)
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Seized and stripped and slapped and spit upon,~~~
BARABBAS
My heart pounded
As they dragged me out.
They stood me close beside Him,
And I looked about.
The crowd was frenzied:
With rage and raw disgust.
I wasn’t sure the real cause–
Why they fumed and cussed.
I glanced beside me
To catch a glimpse of Him,
But what my eyes saw in His
Convicted me within.
When guards shouted,
“Who is it going to be?”
Then I understood they’d choose
To set one free.
“Free Barabbas!
Set Barabbas free!”
I could not believe my ears:
They chose, not Him, but me.
“What of Jesus?”
Then asked the guards.
“Crucify Him! Crucify Him!
He is not our God!”
My shackles fell off:
By law a free man.
Pilate called for water then
And there he washed his hands.
The day grew dark
As He hung there,
Upon a cross with thieves each side,
Then He said a prayer.
He prayed, “Forgive them.”
Did that include me?
When He said, “It is finished!”
I knew He’d died for me, Barabbas.
(Scripture Reference: Matthew 27)
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Well, I started off okay with NaPoWriMo, but as the days progressed, I haven’t kept up my end of the challenge. I don’t think I need to make that one of my goals this year. However, I do have a similar goal, though shorter. I am setting myself the task, during Passion Week, of writing one poem a day about the suffering, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. I want to focus in some special way on His suffering and death, and then His glorious victory and resurrection for my sake.
I can’t think of a better way than to create a poem every day from today – Palm Sunday – through Resurrection Day – Easter Sunday. In fact, since much of the church in several parts of the world celebrates Easter Week (the week following Resurrection Day), I think I will even write a poem for Easter Monday of that week as well.. I hope these poems add to your commemoration of our Lord’s loving sacrifice and to your celebration of His glorious salvation.
Here’s Today’s Poem:
SACRIFICE
A crown,
A diadem,
A shackle placed upon the brow.
Bestowed
Contemptuously,
And scarlet robe on shoulders bowed.
The grief,
The agony,
The tortuous, mutilating pain.
All born
By Innocence
To give me peace and health again.
A cross,
On Calvary:
To execute the Father’s plan.
A tomb,
Now empty stands:
He’s paid the price for every man.
~
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Tongue in cheek, everyone. I know it isn’t quite playing by the rules, but when you’re out of time, you have to ad lib.
CUTTING IT CLOSE
If I don’t write a poem today, ’twill be a pity.
But I’m so tired and worn it’s hard to think.
Perhaps if I just hum awhile, I’ll find a ditty.
I feel as though I am right on the brink.
So tra-lala-lala-lala-lala-lala;
Now, just a few more words I need to rhyme.
Doowah-doowah-doowah-doowah-doowah-doowah.
At last: a poem, just in the nick of time!
~
NaPoWriMo: Check it out and join the fun.
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Well, I missed writing a poem for Day 4 of NaPoWriMo, but I just can’t get everything into the same 24 hours. However, I have one for Day 5. You will find it below the picture.
Give me a private hideaway,
Where quiet is amplified,
No harsh intrusions of busy worlds,
Just nature, satisfied.
Give me a private hideaway,
With warm, sun-dappled light,
Where solitude croons to my soul:
There I’ll find myself aright.
~
~~~
We are now to Day 3 of NaPoWriMo, and since our hostess insists that the prompts on the host site are completely optional — and that we are free to write any poem we choose — I have taken the liberty again today to write a poem that I had in my heart. We have had a whole afternoon and evening of stormy weather and much flash flooding in our area. That situation caused me to feel so much for those who are dealing with fast-rising waters that this poem just rose up in my soul. You will find it just below the picture.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
We must lead all the horses from the barn.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
Find the cow and calf so they don’t come to harm.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
Collect all mother’s quilts and hand crochet.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
We don’t have much time left in which to get away.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
Wrap up the photos and the Bible dear.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
We must not take the time right now to shed our tears.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
This old beloved home may not last long.
Hurry, Tilly, the water’s rising;
But we’ll still have each other safe, and our love’s strong.
“`
The Happy Wordcrafter 