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My Name Is I Am
I was regretting
the past and fearing the future.
Suddenly My Lord
was speaking.
"My name is I Am"
He Paused. I
waited. He continued.
"When you live in
the past with it's mistakes and
regrets, it is
hard. I am not there.
My name is not I
Was.
When you live in
the future with it's problems and
fears, it is hard.
My name is not I
Will Be.
when you live in
this moment it is not hard.
I am here.
My name is I am."
By Helen
Mallicoat
Just One More Day
by Maureen Scian Spring 2001
We wake up to another day. Need more grace, I quickly pray.
Which one should we shower first. Here, take Markie, he's the worst.
His nose is crusted over good, And he's not breathing like he should.
Wash him, dry him, are-o-sol, Ceftin, Claritin, that's not all.
Where'd that bottle of Zantac go? Tyler's coming, can't be slow.
Now the food and bottles fly. If I don't laugh, I'll have to cry.
A chunk of apple hits Mark's head. His lip is out, he's turning RED!
Tyler, Tyler, eat up good! You burn more calories than you should!
Calm him down, please, if you will. Time to give his Mell-ar-il.
5 drops, 10 drops, not one more. A bowl of oatmeal hits the floor.
What's that basket full of gear? We have to put it on them, dear.
Socks and belts and SMOs. Diapers, helmet, then their clothes.
Made the lunches late last night. Time to brush those pearly whites.
Hold him while I chase this one. Washing, brushing on the run.
The bus is here, we say good-bye. Tyler, baby, please don't cry.
Wrestle Mark into the van. That Barney lunch box pops again!
Half-a-sandwich to the floor, The dog is happy, that's for sure.
Turn the key, I've won the race, But I've got Ceftin on my face!
We proudly finish our routine. The kids to school, the floor gets clean.
Easier days I can recall, I just don't miss them, not at all.
These special babies are a blessing. All their tears and all their messing,
Can't compare to the joy they bring. We wouldn't trade for anything.
Our God is good, He's answered prayer. Our quiver's full and so's our lair.
With God in charge he'll show the way. He'll see us through, just one…more…day.
Hey, Mom! We're Home!
This poem is shared with us from the Wyble Family in California. It is written by
Mrs. Roman Liechty, taken from a book called Meditations for Adoptive Parents by Vernell Klassen Miler, Herald Press, Scottdale, PA - Waterloo Ontario.
A shuffle of feet, the slam of a door,
I've heard this sound many times before
yet of this noise I never weary
For with it comes a cheery
"Hey, Mom! We're home!"
When home sometimes becomes a riot,
I may long for peace and quiet,
Yet when all the day they've been away,
I'm very happy to hear them say,
"Hey, Mom! We're home!"
When I reach my home up yonder,
may I never have to wonder
If my children too have found the way.
Please, dear God, once more let me hear them say;
"Hey, Mom! We're home!" \
Jesus is a wise Physician,
Skilful and exceeding kind;
Through him sinners find remission,
And enjoy sweet peace of mind.
Moved with tenderest compassion,
He relieves the wounded heart;
And the richest consolation
His blest Spirit does impart.
This Physician understandeth
All disorders of the soul;
And no payment he demandeth,
When he makes the wounded whole.
Come, ye souls, who now are sighing
Under guilt’s distressing chains,
To the Saviour now be flying;
He will ease you of your pains.
What though bad is your condition,
And your wounds you can’t endure?
He, the sinner’s wise Physician,
Will effect a perfect cure.
(A hymn by Richard Burnham taken from the Gadsby Hymnal)
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