Heart Reflections Live
Friday, May 08, 2009
Talitha's Birth Name Poem
TALITHA
Fourteen days before Christmas Talitha Chloe was born-
Her mother Claire was resting, with a smile for one and all.
This Gift of Life was welcome,- GOD had heard her call!
Her father had a dazed look, as only fathers can.
He wondered what to do next. Has he got a plan?
The family was parading before this new born Queen.
They didn't come on camels, to arrive upon the scene.
But joyously they came there, in cars that looked so swell,
To pledge their love to Talitha, and Mum and Dad as well.
Zara Hope's Birth Name Poem
Zara
It was the fifth day of January-2004.
There was Zara Hope arriving- on the floor
Her mother Claire was quite surprised
She rested for a while.
Father Max raced round and round-
He couldn't hide his smile.
All the family came to see- this treasure
oh so bright.
They all said "She looks great to me,
but is her mother right."
Claire's strength is in her heart,
and the LORD shall lead the way.
Pain and suffering amount to nought,
now that Zara's here to stay.
Labels: family life, Poetry
The Twins Birth Name Poem
I think I must have the best Dad in the world- he's not bad at poetry either! My darling Dad has written a birth name poem for each of our children. We frame them and hang them in our children's rooms, and they are greatly treasured items in our family. Names are very significant to us. Here is the twins' poem:
Zachary and Christopher
They came at once as babies do.
First there was one then there were two.
Zachary and Christopher at last were here.
Claire could rest- and shed a tear.
Max's smile was quite broad,
As he moved around the ward.
Talitha and Zara waited with Grandmother,
And Poppy lay down and tried to recover.
Claire's prayers were answered at last- two boys.
May their lives be filled with ample joys.
Labels: family life, Poetry
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
God Answers Prayer
I know not by what methods rare,
But this I know- God answers prayer.
I know not when He sends the word
That tells us fervent prayer is heard.
I know it cometh- soon or late:
Therefore we need to pray and wait.
I know not if the blessing sought
Will come in just the way I thought.
I leave my prayers with Him alone.
Whose will is wiser than my own.
Lord let me capture the pure spirit of a loving child when I speak your name. Let me pray as a child prays, asking little for myself, much for other souls and for Your beautiful world. Protect me, sleeping and waking, from evil.
Lead me by the hand to good works. Let me praise You in simple words and in glorious silence through all the days and the nights of my life.
Amen.
-Author Anonymous
Sunday, June 10, 2007
True Beauty
What a challenge it can be in this day & age to bring up our daughters to understand true beauty. The sad abundance of trashy magazines in our stores, in front of their eyes, can, if we are not careful, diminish the truths we are endeavouring to impart.
How sad that many of the common sayings, based on Bible truths, have disappeared from so many conversations- Remember..."Handsome is as Handsome Does?", "Don't judge a book by looking at its cover". Can you remember any more?
When I think of true beauty, I remember my maternal Grandmother. Yes, she was always cheerful & femininely dressed with a lovely smile, but to the very end of her life, I remember the kindness in her eyes, & those warm, gnarled , worn hands, that served & comforted her children & grandchildren.
I found this poem, "The Rose", in my antique poetry book, "Gleanings from the English Poets". It was written by Isaac Watts, the great hymn writer.
How fair is the rose! what a beautiful flower,
The glory of April and May!,
But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour,
And they whither and die in a day.
Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast,
Above all the flowers of the field;
When its leaves are all dead, and its fine colours lost,
Still how sweet a perfume it will yield!
So frail is the youth and beauty of men,
Though they bloom and look gay like the rose;
But all our fond cares to preserve them is vain
Time kills them as fast as he goes.
Then I'll not be proud of my youth nor my beauty,
Since both of them wither and fade;
But gain a good name by well doing my duty;
This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.
Mums, we need to encourage our daughters to live for that which is Eternal, and not for that which passes away.
Labels: Beauty, Isaac Watts, Poetry, Quote
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
A Mothers' Worth
I had to sing a lullabyWhile the world slept peacefully,
To bring to mind the wakeful nights
That Mother spent with me.
I had to climb the stair at dusk
With sleepy children too,
To know how weary she was when
Her busy day was through.
I had to make decisions that
Brought many heavy sighs,
The way she disenchanted dreams
Of mine that were unwise.
No dearer Mother, I was sure,
Had ever graced the Earth,
But I had to be a Mother too,
To truly know her worth.
by Guelda Nieboer Klooster
Labels: motherhood, Poetry
Saturday, April 21, 2007
A Christian Home
O give us homes built firm upon the Saviour,Where Christ is Head, and Counsellor and Guide;
Where ev'ry child is taught His love and favour
And gives his heart to Christ, the crucified:
How sweet to know that tho his footsteps waver
His faithful Lord is walking by his side!
O give us homes with Godly Fathers, Mothers,
Who always place their hope and trust in Him;
Whose tender patience turmoil never bothers,
Whose calm and courage trouble cannot dim;
A home where each finds joy in serving others
And love still shines, tho days be dark and grim.
O give us homes where Christ is Lord and Master,
The Bible read, the precious hymns still sung;
Where prayer comes first in peace or in disaster,
And praise is natural speech to ev'ry tongue;
Where mountains move before a faith that's vaster,
And Christ sufficient is for old and young.
O Lord, Our God, our homes are Thine forever!
We trust to Thee their problems, toil, and care;
Their bonds of love no enemy can sever
If Thou art always Lord and Master there:
Be Thou the centre of our last endeavour
Be Thou thy Guest, our hearts and homes to share.
by Barbara B. Hart
Labels: being at home, Christ, Poetry
