One Tiny Lifeby Sally Jadlow One tiny life, so quiet and still,Resting in that stable on a hill. A mere handful knew of His birth;The night God Himself, came to earth. Only Mary suspected or had a clue,That He came to die for me and you. Father knew He’d arise the third day,For sinners, making a way. Give Him a place of rest in your heart;He will live in you and never depart. Believers will live forever with Him in…
I awoke early the other morning with the first line of a poem in my head. When this happens, I can’t roll over and go back to sleep without forgetting the phrase. This is the poem that followed when I sat at the computer. Jesus More than a babe in a manger. The King of all kings, and Lord of all lords. The promised Messiah. God with skin on. The Word of God who created the world. The One Who…
November is Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day Challenge. Robert Brewer posts a prompt each day online during the month here. The author can choose to post his work on the site to let others comment or not. The prompt for Nov. 9th was “Reflections.” My response read like this: Reflections A mirror never lies when the eyes of the beholder peer at wrinkles and saggy places. Sometimes I wish the looking glass fibbed—just a little. My latest book, Joshua’s Journey: One Boy’s…
Twenty-one years ago our church installed a new flag pole. They asked Dan Quisenberry, pitcher for the Kansas City Royals, to write a poem for the occasion. Dan was my mentor and an excellent poet. When asked, Dan turned to me and said, “I don’t have time, but Sally can do it.” My heart leaped into my mouth. I had never written a commissioned poem before. Writing a poem in my journal that no one saw was entirely different thing…
Okay. March is finally here. Winter appears to be loosening its grip (hopefully). It’s time to start spring cleaning. I took a hard look at the garage floor the other day. Because one of our cars spends a lot of time on unpaved roads, I had great globs of mud caked on the new garage floor. After spending too much time shoveling several pounds of the stuff with the snow shovel, I swept, then took a hose and did…
A year ago I was invited to submit a poem for an artist to paint her intrepretation of my work. Jenn Wilson of Lawrence chose my poem, Mother Mable. I finally got to see it last Friday night at the Painted Words Exhibit at Aimee’s Coffee House in Lawrence. I wrote it for an elderly woman I saw every week for Bible study at a retirement home. When you greated her, she’d give you a thumbnail sketch of her life in…
Forty-three years ago today, I recorded in my journal, “Lord, what do you want me to do with these poems I’ve begun to write these past two years?” I had 373 poems typed, and in a box. The box was beginning to overflow. Jesus’ admonition about hiding your light under a bushel had been heavy on my mind for several days. Searching in the yellow pages under “publishers” brought me to the Nazarene Publishing House in Kansas City. I knew…
Ephesians 2:10 tells us “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for Good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” That word “workmanship” in the original Greek is “poiema.” That’s the word that our word poem comes from. We have been carefully crafted as a poet crafts a poem to carry a message. What message are you carrying?
I reminisced recently with a friend. She recalled times in our little prayer group of almost forty years ago. She said, “I remember you used to come to prayer meeting and sing simple songs to poems you had written. And now, you’re writing whole books.” I nodded. It is amazing what God can do with a willing heart and hands given to Him. I didn’t start out to write books. I just wrote what I heard the Holy Spirit whisper….