I met Death on the lonely moor
That circles the restless sea
I met Death, and he paused apace,
And bowing with old-fashioned grace,
He tipped his hat to me.
I spoke to Death on the darkened moor
And asked if he'd come for me
He shook his head with a merry glance,
And asked if I would take the chance
To look away from him to the sea.
I turned from Death on the highland moor
Looked out from the cliffs to the sea
As he bent to speak in my ear and show
Where the crippled ship sailed listing and slow
To the rocks that boomed below me.
I argued with Death on the shivering moor
As he shook his head at me
And my brother's ship sailed in closer still
To the rocks below, which wreck and kill,
And I begged Death for mercy.
I bargained with Death on the desperate moor
A life for a life, you see--
At last prevailed, won over Death
And watched the ship with baited breath,
Until it sailed to a quiet lee.
I parted with Death on the silver moor
At he left for the western sea
I raised my hand as I watched him go,
Knowing someday I'll follow him there,
Glad of his company.
It's been a long day. I had something else entirely in mind for a post tonight. I was halfway through it before I stopped and said, holy shnikes, what the heck am I writing? I mean, Death? Really? It's generic and predictable; I'm tired, my head aches, and I'm too lazy to fix the last verse.
Pray for me, guys. Pray real hard. I mean it. Don't just nod to yourself and then forget. I know human nature, and I'm telling you, this med school thing is impossible for me to do by myself. I can't. I simply can't. I'm not even two weeks in, and I know that.
Any confidence I have is based entirely on the fact that I know I'm not alone in this. And I know that our decisions change things. But I also know that when you pray, you enable God to help you change things. I need that. So pray.
4 comments:
Sounds like Tennyson. And I'm not just saying that; I seriously thought you were quoting.
My parents never really touched us when we were small. My friends aren't touchy-feely. I honestly get uncomfortable at the thought of hugging some people (if I'm not close to them).
My mother is worried that when she's old or sick, no one will hug her or hold her hand, because we don't touch each other.
So, maybe I can relate to that worry a little closer because of my family.
I hope you find a hugger and become friends with them. I'm sure it will help.
Okay, I shall pray.
I kind of liked your Death poem.
I have no idea if this will help you, but I need you to know that this summer was really hard for me, and the only thing that got me through it was this:
"Satan, I am taking my will from your control and surrendering it to Jesus. Jesus, please take my will, for I cannot keep it."
I said that whenever I felt I couldn't do something I had to do, whenever I was sad or tired or frustrated, and I didn't get a wave of peace or a dove from heaven, but I did get the job done when I knew I couldn't.
I will pray. One line from your post really struck me: "I'm telling you, this med school thing is impossible for me to do by myself. I can't. I simply can't. I'm not even two weeks in, and I know that." In a really positive way - because that's so often where we need to be for God to really work. It's so easy for us to take the credit and feel like we got through on our own that for God's work to really build our dependence on Him, He has to make it blatantly obvious. Like Gideon. Like leading Israel to the spot between Pharaoh, the mountains and the Red Sea. Like...
I've seen it so many times recently in myself and friends too: getting to the point where it's clear that whatever happens was by God's grace - and then God coming through amazingly (though sometimes unexpectly). So I'm excited to hear how God comes through!
God put you there. He'll get you through. You are in my thoughts and prayers literally constantly. I love you, Lyssa. So much.
Post a Comment