Category: Poetry

The Wounds and the Promise

LIVING WOUNDS

Christ’s wounds—
holes, gaps, gashes?—
remain, continue there,
healed; no pain or festering.
But they remain
places on the body
of the God-Man,
remembering.
A mystery!
There,
in the wounded place
we are part of Christ.
The nails are gone,
the sword withdrawn,
the thorns pulled out.
But these wounds live,
efficacious.
When His followers also
stand gashed and riddled,
touching our wounds to His;
bearing scars from
our own sins and
those of others
but festering no more;
together we form
places of healing
in the body of Christ.

~Catherine Lawton

Eternal Snows and A Sacrifice of Love

Soon after we moved from California to Colorado, we had a blizzard during Easter week—a new experience for me. Pure white snow covered the ground when I wanted spring color to dot the landscape. But during that holy week, the pervasive, gleaming whiteness began taking on significance and speaking to my heart. The words of…

Ten Best Books I Read in 2015

Here’s an eclectic list of books, varied in subject, genre, and form. I like to find the best in popular books, old and new, and find hidden gems that are less-well known but sometimes even more worthy of being found on a “best-seller” list. Perhaps you’ll discover a new favorite among these: (In no particular…

Poetry, Art, and Books—Between the Generations

Here I am with one of my granddaughters. She’s a creative girl who likes to study nature, write poems, and draw pictures. I started writing poems as a girl, myself. Here’s one I wrote in my youth, about BOOKS. My granddaughter drew the picture below, to illustrate this poem. A Book If I’m reading a…

Good Friday Poem

Snow on Good Friday We grieve when snow falls on Good Friday eve. What about the greening, the beginnings of spring? when like manna fallen from Heaven— “My body broken for you” into flakes and crumbs— soft, pure-white flesh spread upon all that lies both dormant and sprouting, at morn reflects the rising sun; except…

Christian Writers and Editors are Window Washers

WINDOW WASHER

We need to perceive the Truth.

Yet, darkly we peer through the glass.

Clean me for use

Free me to serve

Lift me to reach

That I may wash windows for You.

Wrong doctrine obscures

Gray living besmears

Raw weather, it blurs

The pane on this side.

Provide a soft cloth—not abrasive

The vision to transcend the obstructive

And courage to rub for perfection

Searching

Editing

Polishing

Till, through one clear corner,

Someone sees You.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catherine Lawton

from the book, Remembering Softly: A Life In Poems © 2016


Photo: (c) Can Stock Photo / Ghen
%d bloggers like this: