WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS . . .

Moisture hung heavily in the air last night. The heat of the day became drenched with tropical dewpoints. A welcome thunderstorm opened up the heavens, pouring huge droplets. So heavy that a portion of the birch tree clump in our backyard fell to the ground. As I opened the blinds this morning, it was apparent that the storm had broken one of the boughs. There was a manmade bird nest, which housed some little warblers. I’m hopeful they survived.

I was reminded of the old nursery rhyme, “Rock a Bye Baby.” Some of those old rhymes carry a lot of weight of their own. Imagine placing a child in the bough of a tree to rock it to sleep. The rhyme originated at a time when people actually placed their little ones in small handmade hammocks, as they worked in the fields or washed their clothes in the river. The entire song goes like this:

Rock-a-bye Baby
Rock-a-bye baby,
On the treetop.
When the wind blows,
The cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall
And down will come baby,
Cradle and all.

Baby is drowsing,
Cosy and fair.
Mother sits near,
In her rocking chir.
Forward and back,
The cradle she swings
And though baby sleeps,
He hears what she sings.

From the high rooftops
Down to the sea,
No one’s as dear
As baby to me.
Wee little fingers,
Eyes wide and bright-
Now sound asleep,
Until morning light.

When hearts have been broken, it’s much like the felling of a tree. It can be disastrous and sometimes even fatal. Like a brough that has been beaten by the elements, there is a price to pay. There will be sadness, loss, feelings of loneliness and separation. Broken hearts may not heal, but they can serve a different purpose in the scheme of living.

A heart that’s been broken can only be mended by the One who created it.
When we stumble through life with no direction, the One who knows us inside and out is there to guide our steps.
When we lose all hope of things improving for us, all we need to do is go to God, who can do all things.
God never lets us down. He’s the same today as He was yesterday
and will be tomorrow and forever.
Put your trust in Him – not in things of this world – which are only temporary,
Rely on His faithfulness, His divine intervention, his flawless love.
No one person,or thing can repair our sin sick souls; love us unconditionally;
and guarantee eternal life to all who believe in Him.

Unknown's avatar

About atimetoshare.me

As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
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2 Responses to WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS . . .

  1. hatrack4's avatar hatrack4 says:

    From your title, I had a feeling where this was going. I would say that we are starting to think alike, but I think we were thinking alike from early on. I went to a graveside service in the oppressive heat yesterday. I would have welcomed a little rain, but we had a butterfly release. I was afraid to leave my sunny spot. We were instructed that the butterflies would fly away once they got used to the sunlight and their bodies adjusted to the temperature, but they thought it was too hot and they fluttered to my feet, for the shade. The people around me were laughing, telling me I couldn’t move, but a few minutes later, they were gone. But the funeral was for a young twenty-something who had mental problems. She had a broken heart that only God could fix. Her parents had been loyal members of my Sunday school class years ago and remain friends. Thanks for this reminder.

    Liked by 1 person

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