Our morning devotion had to do with Psalm 121:1-2
“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.”
After a night of neighborhood noise and Halloween haunting, we finally went to sleely,pnly to awake to an ambulance approaching the door of our neighbor who just returned from the hospital two days ago. Immediately after reading the words to this Psalm, we looked out our window and saw a red sun rising on the horizon, creating a silhouette of black trees against a crimson sky. Tears began to flow as I thought about the mountains we continue to climb even at our age.
I found the above painting by my husband, Paul Boecher and some poetry to add to it for today’s post. It seems there is a constant range of mountains ahead of us, even as we come to the end of our days. We’re struggling with old age issues, unable to manage things we used to take for granted – trying to stifle the creative juices and take it easy – losing ourselves in memories of what used to be and will not be again. Sitting on the precipice of 80 is much like standing on a tightrope and hoping you can maintain yourself through the journey ahead. You’d think the mountain climbing would be over now, but it isn’t. True comfort and peace is not to be attained upon this earth. It’s guaranteed us when we pass from terra firma, but in the meantime, we continue to climb with each dying breath.
Clinging tightly to the lifeline that has sustained us through the years, we look to the Word of God. We know this life is only temporary and it soon will pass. Eventually the gates of heaven will open wide and we’ll be ushered into perfection. Until then, we continue to climb towards that goal.
TRUE PEACE BY KATHY BOECHER
We search in vain for a place empty of confusion,
All the trappings of the world bring no relief,
The noise of life overtakes us.
We run to the mountains for serenity,
We hide in the meadow near a quiet stream,
We sail away from the pack to be alone,
But the sound of a jackhammer penetrates the silence,
The voices of anger rage around us,
The tempest of fear stirs within us,
True peace can only be obtained in the Son of God,
The Prince of Peace.
We search in vain for a place empty of confusion,
All the trappings of the world bring no relief,
The noise of life overtakes us.
We run to the mountains for serenity,
We hide in the meadow near a quiet stream,
We steal away from the pack to be alone,
But the sound of a jackhammer penetrates the silence,
The voices of anger rage around us,
The tempest of fear stirs within us,
True peace can only be obtained in the Son of God,
The Prince of Peace.
atimetoshare.me 
Eighties are so bad. Keep living them. 😀
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I’ll keep on plugging knowing God has a great plan in store.
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You do realize that your title sent me down a Sound of Music rabbit hole. And until then, I was singing “Softly and Tenderly” solo – that is so low that I could barely hear it.
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The hills are alive. Sorry for creating that rabbit hole. Also sorry for the depressing post. I had second thoughts about posting. It’s the result of having to climb a lot of senseless mountains lately.
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But maybe the title was the thought that you could have a song in your heart – something other than “The Old Gray Goose is Dead.” That one might not work.
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Thanks for the chuckles
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Keep climbing precious, Kathy. Your poem is promise! You remind me that no matter the age, there are mountains to climb. But what you remind me of MOST everyday is the love of God. And that this home is not our final home. My prayers for your neighbor. I’m sending you hugs and prayers daily. 💛❤️🧡
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Thanks for your needed prayers as always. There seems to be a dark cloud hanging over my head lately.💙
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I pray everyday for you both. You are loved. 🧡❤️💛
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I know you are because I can feel it.
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I’m so glad 💛❤️
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Kathy, your poem is filled with a genuine message of peace, which can only come from having a relationship with Jesus. I enjoy Paul’s painting. The bird may be an eagle, whose shadow leads us in our journey to be close to the Christ.
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It is an eagle. Thanks for noticing.💙
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You are welcome. I used the image of an eagle in a poem (yet to be posted), and Paul’s painting mirrors it. Amazing coincidence!
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