Monday, November 14, 2011

Have I Told You

Have I Told You

Heavenly Father, have I told you
how I love the blue of the sky
as it stretches from horizon to horizon,
and how I love its shades of blue
as it turns from aqua
to ultra marine blue overhead?

Have I told you how I love the color
of the grasses in the Fall,
and how I love the way that they
dance and sway
as the breezes pass by?

Have I told you how I love the face
of a high mountain lake,
when in its stillness
it reflects the trees in their garish colors
as they say goodby to Summer
and embrace the chill of Fall?

Have I told you how I love the evening
as the sun slips away from the day,
and runs her golden fingers
across the mountain peaks
to paint them pink and gold?

Heavenly Father have I told you
how I love my grandchildren
as they laugh and play and run
and how I love my children
and wish that my life had just begun?

Heavenly Father have I told you
Thank You?
Connie Goulding

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

On the worst day of my life will you still hold my hand?

On the worst day
of my life
will you still hold my hand?

I see many people on the worst day of their life because I chose to become an EMT (emergency medical technician). Many people tell me that they could never become an EMT because they couldn't stand to see the things that I sometimes have to see.

I don't love the gore or excitement. I don't love the flashbacks of the sights I've seen that run through my brain. I don't love the smell or the worry. I don't love the pain and the sadness. I don't love being tethered to a pager worrying about if I can go somewhere or if the page will go off. I don't love the surprises when I find out that the victim is someone I know. I don't love meeting new friends with broken bodies and broken hearts as they lay in a pile of rubble that used to be a car.

Hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry.
Life is running out.
Pieces of your world
lie scattered all about.

Hurry, hurry, hurry,
life is running out.
Baby's small pink shoe,
bits of broken glass...
Photos on the roadway...
scattered in the grass.

Hurry, hurry, hurry,
life is running out.
Rescue's harsh shrill scream...
people all about.

Hurry, hurry, hurry,
life is running out.
Blood and pain and gore.
It's getting hard to remember
what the rush was for.

So why do I do it?

I do it because someone showed up for me on the worst day of my life. Blessed are the ones who show up to hold a hand, to pick up battered bodies and to bandage wounds.

On the worst day of my life my beautiful, funny, full of life eight-year old son was killed in an automobile, pedestrian accident.

Many people showed up to help that day, EMTs, Highway Patrolmen, Sheriff's Deputies, doctors, family, neighbors, friends, and last but nowhere near the least, the mortician. All of these people left what they were doing on that early spring morning in May, to answer the call to help my son and my family. They were there to do the things for us that we could not do for ourselves. Some of them left their children who were getting ready for school that day to be with mine as he crossed from this world into the next. Some of them like my mother, who was an EMT at the time, would expose themselves to the flashbacks of seeing his lifeless body laying in the road only to ask themselves if there was anything more that they could have done. For many of them this was not the first time they had seen this kind of sorrow and it would not be the last.

Why did they do it?That is a question I cannot answer for them, each one has their own story, but for me , I became an EMT because of a profound sense of gratitude I have for the service and sacrifice that each one of these people gave to me on the worst day of my life.

I am so eternally grateful that my son was not alone when he left this world, that someone was there to hold his hand. That is why I choose to be there, so that on the worst day of your life you won't be there alone. I will be there to hold your hand and I'll do everything that I can so that you'll have a better day tomorrow.
Connie Goulding

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Widow's Mite

Widow's Mite


Dressed in fine apparel,
Lauded by their friends,
Rich men brought their fortunes,
To be esteemed in the sight of men.

The widow entered quietly
Unnoticed by the throng.
In her hand were two small coins,
She had treasured long.
Into the treasury went the coins,
All her earthly wealth.

The Savior watching all that day
Asked this question of His friends,
"Of all who cast their coins today
Who has given more?
Some have cast in many coins . . .
Who did they do it for?"

The widow in her poverty,
In the midst of want . . .
Had cast in but two small coins,
She had no wealth to flaunt.

The Savior spoke then quietly,
"Look not on the outer part,
It is not what the world see's . . .
It is what's written in the heart."

Connie Goulding
Mark 12:41-44

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Rainbows


I often look for rainbows
Written across dark stormy skies.
Flashes of bright colors,
Released by beams of light.

Within dark brooding rainclouds
Small droplets of ice cold rain
Explode with hidden colors
When touched by the sun's warm rays.

Sometimes life's storms are oppressive,
At times there seems no end,
But I'll be here waiting,
For the sun to shine again.

Connie Goulding

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Heaven's Glory

Heaven's Glory


As clouds darken my horizon,
I know they must surely pass
Like winter snows,
To bring spring flowers at last.

The beauty of the rainbow
I could never see,
Without dark rainclouds
First to threaten me.

And where I stand today,
Others once stood here too,
Surrounded by mists of darkness...
Waiting for the light to come
bursting through.

Light bouncing off of
drops of water...
Teardrops of falling rain,
I know that Heaven's Glory
Will shine on me again.

Connie Goulding

Wrap Me in Blue

Wrap Me in Blue

 

When I go to Heaven wrap me in blue;
The blue of a cloudless sky.
Blue as fresh as the morning dew, 
As soft as the breath of a breeze.
A breeze that whispers of a faraway home, 
Separated by space and time.

When I go to Heaven wrap me in blue;
Scented like high desert sage.
The iridescent blue of a song bird's wings, 
Warmed by the summer sun's rays.
When I go to Heaven wrap me in blue,
Tied with an indigo bow.

When I go to Heaven wrap me in blue;
As strong as a Father's kind hands.
Blue as sweet as a Mother's prayers, 
Whispered forever...no end.
When I go to Heaven wrap me in blue;
Enfold me in the arms of the Lamb. 
--Connie Goulding

Therefore, eternity was our covering 
and our rock and our salvation....
(Abraham 2:16)
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...