Christ is Risen...Just as He Said

For Resurrection Sunday, March 27, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

Alleluia! 

Christ is Risen from the Dead!

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WONDERFUL NEWS

I have to share the most wonderful news with those I love most in this world.

The news I have is more precious, by far, than diamonds or rubies or gold.

There was an enormous void in my life. “Is this all there is?” I would ask.

I searched far to find some meaning in life. It seemed an unknowable task.

One day someone shared the Gospel with me, and I learned that Jesus is real.

I prayed to invite Him into my heart and was filled with astonishing zeal!

The day that He gave His life on the Cross, to save all mankind from our sin,

He opened to us salvation by grace; life eternal, the prize that we win.

You know that I share the best that I have with my cherished family and friends,

so listen, dear one, to this wonderful news upon which ever-after depends.

Just open your Bible to the Gospel of John, third chapter, verse number three,

then read of God’s love in the sixteenth verse to learn what has happened to me.

Some people grow up with Bible in hand, without Jesus burning in heart,

some haven’t explored the true meaning of life, some wouldn’t know where to start.

Whether you’re Protestant, Jewish, my friend, Catholic, Muslim, atheist,

my news is for you and all who will hear, who long to receive of God’s best.

You needn’t become a fanatic or prude, I’ve no list of do nots and dos.

God’s Spirit will teach you all you need know. The offer’s too good to refuse.

Although tribulation may take you by storm and trials may bring a hard test,

God’s greater, He’s faithful, He’ll bring you through to victory. You’ll shine in His rest.

This can be the greatest day of your life, the day you receive the New Birth.

This can be the day you begin to know why we’re the happiest people on earth.

Like me, you will yearn to share the Good News with all of the people you love.

Like me, you will want all those you meet to be touched by our Great God above.

Maude Carolan Pych

The Resurrection of Jesus

For Holy Saturday, March 26, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

Image credit: jw.org

RISEN

It’s Holy Saturday

Dough is rising

on the kitchen counter

filling me with thoughts

of rising

helium balloons

set free

sunrise

over the Sea of Galilee

waking up

rising

soap bubbles

floating skyward

seagulls soaring

fireworks

booming and bursting

jet planes at take-off

rocket ships

with long trails of fire

zooming to the moon

Oh! but nothing

nowhere

and no one

has ever done it

or will

…like Jesus

Maude Carolan Pych

A Poem for Good Friday

For Good Friday, March 25, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

Image credit: blogs.nd.edu

THE PIETA

After the earthquake

the peals of thunder

the flashes of lightening 

across the sky

After the curious crowds dispersed

Mary sat in ominous dimness

upon a mound of earth

at the base of the Cross

holding the body

of her Son

She cradled Him

in the hollow of her lap

close to her bosom

as she had

when he was

her baby boy

Mary removed

thorns of mockery

that encircled His forehead

and tossed it to the side

Straining to see in the shadows

she carefully picked

fragments of thorn needles

still stuck in His lifeless flesh

although they couldn’t hurt Him

any longer

With her fingertips

she tenderly closed the lids

over His dark, vacant eyes

and smoothed

the disheveled, matted hair

…then she kissed Him

O my beautiful Son…

Tears flowed

down her face onto His cheeks

mingling with dried blood

With the edge of her garment

she wiped some blood away

John came

and rested his hand

upon her trembling shoulder

He was now her son

She was now his mother

Mysteries

too deep to comprehend

swirled in her mind

like the flap and flutter

of wings and overshadowing

Son of the Most High

and David’s throne

like pregnant Elizabeth’s joy

when the baby leapt in her womb

and the Baptizer himself, when grown

proclaiming his younger cousin

“The Lamb of God, Who

takes away the sin of the world”

and Simeon’s prophesy

that Jesus would be

a Light of revelation

to the Gentiles and the glory

of the people of Israel

Where is the Light?

Where is the glory?

Where is the throne?

Overwhelmed by sorrow

so intense it stabbed her

deep, deep in her inner parts

Mary cried out in anguish

and rent her robe

Was this what old Simeon meant

long ago in the Temple

when he held Jesus in his arms

and said a sword would pierce

my very soul?

O my Son, my beautiful Son…

I cannot fathom the ways of God, but

I do know this cannot be the end

Maude Carolan Pych

"Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?"

For Holy Thursday, March 24, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

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THE HEART-WRENCHING CRY

Oh, I am sure God heard it

as He sat on the edge

of His great golden throne

just moments away from Victory

This wasn’t the cry of Jesus’ physical pain

from crucifixion nails

pressed against His pierced flesh

No, this was different

It was the cry of separation—

a cry that rose from Earth to Heaven

from the One He was One with

from all eternity—

Why hast Thou forsaken Me?

This was the wuthering wail

from the weight of the sin

of the world, upon

the One who had never sinned

in that cold, dark moment before

Atonement’s Hallelujah!

This was the expiation

of my sin and yours

of all sin past and present

of as yet uncommitted sin

the sin of the yet unborn

the not yet conceived

the sin of those who would not be born

for thousands of years to come

This was the heart-wrenching cry before

It is finished!

the nod

of His thorn-crowned head

and His Father’s solemn

Amen!

in Glory

Maude Carolan Pych

It's Friday...But Sunday's Comin'!

For Wednesday, March 23, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

Image credit: borntoblaze.org

I’VE READ THE END OF THE BOOK     

Twice I heard Tony Campolo deliver

his famous and rousing sermon

It’s Friday, but Sunday’s Comin’!

at the Great Auditorium in Ocean Grove

He drummed home the point

that everything may look bleak on Friday, but…

when Sunday comes, it’s a totally different story

Now, I’m not thinking of just any bleak Friday

I’m thinking about the original Good Friday—

thinking the only reason I can bear

to contemplate that good and terrible day

is because I know

three days later there was

a mind-blowing, miraculous Sunday—

…Resurrection Sunday!

The disciples didn’t have

the advantage I have—

They didn’t understand

life after death

couldn’t comprehend

atonement for sin

just didn’t get it

that their teacher and friend, Jesus

could die upon a cross

for the sins of the world

They didn’t know the future—

Sure, they may’ve read portions of the Scrolls

but they didn’t have the whole Book

                                             

I do have the whole Book

I’ve read ahead

and studied the pages         

I know what follows

the Good Friday story—

The victorious hope-giving

hallelujah happy ending

I know my sins are forgiven

I know I’m going to live forever

Yes, I know what happened next

and that makes all the difference

Maude Carolan Pych

Those Forgiven Much, Love Much

For Tuesday, March 22, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Day

Image credit: baptistbiblehour.org
 

THE UNFATHOMABLE VASTNESS 

OF HIS MERCY

One day

the Lord’s long, long arm

reached all the way

from Heaven into Hell

to grant a blessing

upon a beloved child

in the hour

of her gravest sin

In great despair

she couldn’t imagine

a way out, still

she was moved

by the unfathomable vastness

of His mercy

and the awesome wonder

of undeserved love

unconditional

and full of grace

This much beloved child

remembered hearing

about the woman

from ages past

who wept bitterly

upon His dusty feet

and ever so humbly

wiped away tears

with her dark

and silken hair

Like her,

she understood

one forgiven much

loves much

She is grateful

to be drinking of His mercy

drinking His forgiveness

drinking in His love

Maude Carolan

Good Friday, 2014

For Monday, March 21, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

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Another true Good Friday experience
in poetry

BLOOD SKY—

Good Friday 2014, Packanack Lake, New Jersey

“I will display wonders in the sky and on the earth, blood, fire and columns of smoke. The sun will be turned into darkness and the moon into blood before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes.” Joel 2:30-31 NASB

The alarm went off at 3:00 a.m., Tuesday

We went outdoors to gaze at the sky

hoping to get a glimpse

of the first blood moon of the tetrad—

Passover, 2014

It was there, but we couldn’t see it

Dense clouds obscured our view

Blood moon or not, this week is crimson—

I’ve been thinking about blood in the Nile

blood on the lintels

death of the firstborn sons

I bought blood oranges in Fairway, yesterday

Had one for breakfast. It was sweet

Today is Good Friday—

I am meditating upon the atonement

the Cross, the death of my Savior

Now it’s evening—

I’m on my way to the Good Friday service

at the Jerusalem Center in Wayne

As I drive down Osborne Terrace

approaching Packanack Lake

the sky is incredible—amazing—red as blood

fiery red, red like I’ve never seen it before

As the setting sun shines on the still water

the lake mirrors the brilliant crimson firmament

and I can’t help thinking of old Moses

as he dipped his staff into the Nile river

At the Jerusalem Center, the dancers

fittingly extol the Lamb Who was slain, and

Jonathan speaks of the sun setting and rising—

endings and beginnings

and I feel God may be telling me something, or

am I so deeply aware of Him this holy week

that I am seeing Him everywhere

and in every blessed thing

Maude Carolan Pych

What's So "Good" About It?

For Palm Sunday, March 20, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

Image credit: desicomments.com

WHAT'S SO "GOOD" ABOUT IT?

When I was a child

I could hardly wait for Easter

could hardly wait to wear my new spring dress

and the flowery straw bonnet with velvet ribbon streamers

could hardly wait for the basket of marshmallow chocolates

tiny jellybeans and bright colored eggs

to magically appear in my bedroom

compliments of a big white bunny

Oh, the wonders of childhood’s imaginings…

I was glad about the Resurrection, too, of course

But first I had to get through Lent and "Good" Friday

first I had to sacrifice

and give a lot of serious consideration

to Jesus

first I had to think about a nice holy man

dying

an awful death

upon a horrible cross

and I had to try to understand

that He died that awful death

for me!

I preferred, of course

to think about chocolate, bunnies and bonnets

rather than scourging, thorns

and nails

Good? I thought…

What could possibly be

"Good" about it?

I wanted to call it "Bad Friday"

"Cruel Friday" or

"Why Did God Have To Have It Happen That Terrible Way Friday?"

Of course

I was too young to understand…then

Now I realize

a basket-bearing bunny

cannot even be compared to what happened

that particular cosmic Friday

at the Cross

Now I know

what's so "Good" about it

is that it's followed by

that Stone-Blown-Out-of-the-Tomb-Sunday!!!

that Jesus-Was-Dead…But-Now-He-Lives-Hallelujah-Sunday!!!

and that

my brothers and sisters

is very, very, very

Good!!!

Maude Carolan Pych

Fall in Love with Jesus

For Saturday, March 19, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Sunday

Image credit: rubyforwomen.com

I CAN'T MAKE YOU LOVE HIM

I can't make you love Him if you don't

can't strike a match

to cause your heart to blaze

at the mention of His Name

can't cause you to tremble

as I tremble

before His holiness

can't jumpstart love

from the outside in

It only happens from the inside out

No matter how much I love you

loving Him

is not something you can get from me

like a cup of mulled cider or a hug

not something you can inherit

like good genes, strong teeth or curly hair

not something I can demonstrate

like how to knead dough or rhyme couplets

nor is it something I can gift-wrap

tie with a crimson ribbon

and give you to make you happy

No, all I can do is tell the old, old story

about His beauty, as I perceive it

His mercy, as I've experienced it

His wonders and His love

All I can do is hope, pray

and wait

Truth will not impose

Truth waits to be sought

Answers wait for age-old questions

The Door waits for your knock

When He opens

you'll find He's been expecting you

already loving you

No, I can't make it easy, although it can be

I embarked on my quest; you'll embark on yours

No, I can't make you love Him if you don't

but should your quest lead you to His heart

I'll be waiting, like the One inside the Door

to dance in the glow of His grandeur with you

Maude Carolan

The Way of the Cross

For Friday, March 18, 2016

A-Poem-a-Day

Until Resurrection Day

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AT THE VIA DOLOROSA

Israel Pilgrimage—2006

Twelve feet below

the hustle and bustle 
and hawking,

the crowds, the spices, the wares

of the present Via Dolorosa

lies an ancient pathway

of trodden stones

Yeshua walked upon

in sandaled feet

on His way to Calvary

2000 years ago

ancient stones

stumbling stones

stones Yeshua, weak and weary

likely fell upon as He carried

the cumbersome crossbeam

along that terrible path

to Crucifixion

I remove a shoe

to feel the coolness

of hallowed ground

against my bare sole

We begin singing

Were You There When They

Crucified My Lord

and tremble

tremble, tremble

at the reading

of the Suffering Servant

in Isaiah 53

Millenniums

seem to disappear

It almost feels

like it’s happening here

now—

There’s something

timeless

about it

isn’t there?

Maude Carolan Pych