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A Marigold for Joy

A Poem from a Mothers Heart

I feel it, down to my bones.
Your tiny body suddenly radiates heat,
The tell-tale gulp-swallow,
Your eyes usually so bright mist over,
And before a cry escapes my lips,
Your eyes roll, your body shakes,
and 1000 fears consume me.

I stand, hold you close, and run.
But somewhere along the way, you’re taken from my arms.
And while everything in me wants to meet your needs,
I collapse in my grief, filled with panic, unable to rise.

The prayers of God’s people rouse me,
And I find the strength to find you,
But something is not right.
You’re too blue,
You’re not breathing,
You’re biting the hands that are trying to help you,

And just when I cannot bear to watch any longer,
You expel the vomit filling your nose and your mouth,
You breathe.
Selah.

The world moves on.
You move on.
But the 1000 fears never leave me.
Coursing through my body like adrenaline,
I can’t rid myself of them.

Am I just weak, that I cannot cope?
Would others carry this burden differently?
Why then, is it mine to carry?
Why God, when my resilience is non-existent,
When my heart cannot take anymore,
When my soul weeps exponentially for every seizure,
Do you allow more to crush me?

So vividly, I recall the worst.
As if in a trance I cross the threshold of the resuscitation room,
I glance at the glowing sign,
it appears much too bright.

It’s then that I see you,
Your helpless little body,
Convulsing on the bed,
I hear someone say, “Over an hour now”,
And I shudder at the needles lined up on the sterile table, “to induce a coma” I’m told.

But when I look back at you,
The eyes of my heart open,
You’re not alone,
He is there, kneeling beside you,
Your tiny hand in His,
As He petitions the Father of lights
Not to allow your light to be snuffed out,
You breathe. You move.
Selah.

And it’s only now we understand the paradox of your name, Marigold Joy.
A Marigold to remember,
A Marigold for grief,
A Marigold for despair,
A Marigold for mourning,
A Marigold for weeping,
But joy cometh in the morning.
Selah.

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Urchin and the Raven War: The Mistmantle Chronicles, Book 4

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This is an adventurous coming-of-age story where beloved Mistmantle heroes solidify a place in our hearts through their courage and sacrifice amid extreme evil and hardship …
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By Gabrielle Meyer “Time was a gift – one of the greatest we would ever be given – and I wouldn’t take it for granted.” – Hope Eaton Download the FREE Book Club Guide here * This book club guide …

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