Frenetically I rest in her guest room.
I think of her quiet hospital room.
I’ve laid my head on this pillow before.
I toss, turn, and pray, in this cozy room.
The lamp that’s lit sees the quiver of lips.
The cool sheets rumple my soul in this room.
The morning will bring no kitchen nesting.
Silence of pantry doors - feastless, this room.
Cars leave the driveway while mom’s still alive.
The staff is preparing her hospice room.
The transport holds my heart; mom’s head is bare.
Tender care, support, comfort in the room.
I shared a scintilla of who mom is.
Caregiver softly stroked mom’s brow, in room.
After she passed, saw a tear on her cheek.
Her bones turning to stone in this room.
This daughter remembers the softest hands.
In dream, mom squeezes mine, from heav’n’s room
I can’t imagine where I’d be
If Jesus had not come to me.
I knew Him once, so long ago
But life pressed in and so, you know,
I quite forgot His loving ways
And trundled on in those dark days
I can’t imagine where I’d be
If Jesus had not come to me.
Divorce hit hard and more than that
I found myself alone and sat
In gloomy, hopeless misery,
Feigning that contentment I might see.
I can’t imagine where I’d be
If Jesus had not come to me.
The New Age failed to win my trust
And Buddha couldn’t help me. Thus
I looked and looked for something good –
Invited Him to share my food
I can’t imagine where I’d be
If Jesus had not come to me.
He sat at table’s feastless head,
My female self in witchcraft mode,
My male adorned in handsome garb,
My child at play. No sound was heard –
And then he left – out through my door,
So I went too. It would be poor
To lose so sweet and true a friend.
I followed him right out. The end
Of lonely effort, point bereft.
I’d follow Him with footsteps deft.
I’d never let Him leave my sight,
For He had loved me. Sweet delight!
I can’t imagine where I’d be
If Jesus had not come to me.