Tag: JusJoJan26

poetry

Growing Old

SallyLeave a comment

Aging is not an illness, a tragedy, or a problem awaiting a solution; aging is the price we pay for life which is a greater gift than we deserve.

Will Willimon, Aging: Growing Old in Church

I can’t remember names very well
But faces stick with me. And voices.
I’m still mobile and active.
As Monty Python said,
“I’m not dead yet” — so
Today I will
Celebrate —
Life is
Good!

Yes, I’m a senior citizen. No, I’m not old.

True story: I DO recognize people better by their voice than their face. And I remember their face better than their name.

Celebrate was the prompt for JusJoJan today. The nonet was just for fun.

poetry

The Old Homestead

Sally7 Comments

I grew up in this old famhouse. Here
I stumble over memories
Stub my toe on them even
Sorting is quite daunting
This house is haunting
Daily I try
To get one
More box
Done

This is my response to TWO prompts!

The JusJoJan prompt for the day is stumble.

The W3 prompt is: Write a Nonet about the new year — 2026. How does this year feel to you so far? Are you hopeful, uncertain, energized, reflective? Have you set any goals or intentions? Are there resolutions you’re excited (or nervous) about? My goal for the new year is to wrap up dealing with my parents’ estate.

Faith

What Kind of Blessedness

Sally1 Comment

It certainly sounds more realistic for people in darkness to dream of God’s day of vengeance, finding satisfaction in the hope that at the Last Judgment all the godless enemies who oppress us here will be cast into hellfire.
But what kind of blessedness is it that luxuriates in revenge and needs the groans of the damned as background to its own joy?
To us a child is born, not an embittered old man.

Jürgen Moltmann, The Power of the Powerless

Okay, it’s not one, not two, but three lines that I’m using for One-Liner Wednesday. I read these words this morning and they spoke to me.

My faith is a struggle these days, what with all that’s going on with our government and the focus on retribution, and the callousness towards humt

Still, I read every morning, trying to start my day off with the right mindset.

To us a child is born. To us a child is born. To us a child is born.

God didn’t come in wrath, seeing to punish. He came as a helpless baby.