Through the loves of my life, to the tragedies and deaths, there is one thing I never asked God, and that is, why? For it is not up to me to question the sovereign plan of His grace upon me. My son drew this picture of an angel, before his suicide. In deep depressions, from manic highs, as much as I pleaded and tried in the natural, I could not save him from himself. But, Jesus did. And Jesus knew, when my son was saved 8/2/90. These are some of my poems that have come out of abuse, deaths, the heartbreak of divorce, and the healing joy that only Christ can give. His sovereign Grace is my rock and His salvation, my promise for eternity forever.
My son William (BJ) who is still so missed
“There is a time and season for tears, when your heart is so full of anguish. They begin to flow as naturally as raindrops from heaven. There is a hidden beauty in tears, a welcome cleansing about them. They should be shed boldly in public or in solitude. They symbolize how much you have loved and lost. Tears commemorate and celebrate your loved ones. There is holiness about your tears. Each one is a prayer that only God can understand. He created them for Himself. They are a reminder to you that your soul can have no rainbows, if your eyes have no tears. ” By Kathie Wunnenberg
Your eyes ask questioningly of me,
They seek to peer inside my soul,
But I have bared my life before all eyes,
Throughout this journey’s work I left behind,
There was nothing hidden in what I wrote or preached,
Whether in blogs or books, poetry and such,
Except the truth of where I’ve been and what I’ve seen
in this path of love and pain.
My only question to all has been; “Are you washed in
the blood of the lamb?”
Some of you I’ve known since we were young may outlive me,
But don’t shed tears,
You knew I have had loves in my life that bloomed in youth, and
I still cared.
For God knew my heart, when you did not, of husbands and children
that predeceased me,
Like the Jewels in the Kingdom of God, I left no stone unturned.
Those that loved me knew this heart and never needed to ask,
I was there in spirit and loved both pleasure and pain that
Bore such a price,
For all I asked at the end was, “Are you washed in the blood of
J.E. Worthen 3/11/2011
There’s a dream that I have, when I want to be free,
Where only I can be,
The pressure of life when it gets you down,
My dream is just for me.
No one can distrub me or see in my mind,
God gave my dream to me.
I can travel afar, watch the sun and the stars,
But its only for me to see,
You too, can dream and never lose hope,
A place for you alone,
For your dream will guide you to heaven and back,
Full of memories when your alone.
I Am Me
(I Corinthians 15:20 “I am me, I am what I am.”)
You, who have denigrated me for so many years,
With your insolent breath of hateful lies,
You may cut me down with threats,
But, still I overcome, I am me.
Does my tenacity and determination upset you?
When you stomp on me and still like a tree, I stand?
When for years adversity was ridiculed for my destruction.
Your persecution failed, I’m still here, I am me.
I have known tragedy, losses and death,
Wars, thirteen presidents, assassinations, global threats, and the sun still rises.
Wracked in tears, I have been through devastation and pain,
Hatreds and deceit, yet I prevail, I am me.
Does my will and perseverance offend you?
You, who would like to see me broken or dead before God calls?
For my soul is only weakened for a time by tears,
Then I gird myself up for war and the next battle, for I am me.
Your words are like a sword that cuts a heart,
Your eyes like cold steel in penetrating hates,
Like Cain, you’d like to see me dead and in the ground,
But, like a river, I keep springing up, I am me.
For through hell, I still dance with stars over me like gems glistening,
Does it surprise you that I keep coming back again and again?
I survive, and my light continues, God raises me up, I still overcome,
I sing in joy at my afflictions of the past, I am me.
The moon shines at night sometimes showing the shadows of the past,
Reminders of pain that has trodden my soul,
Yet, I make no excuses for my path in this life,
I’ve become deep like an ocean and still love, I am me.
For as an ocean swells and the waves run wild,
So is my being and determination to ride the waves.
I weather the storms of life in spite of hates,
My end is far from near, for I still taste life, I am me.
I leave behind raw memories…..
I leave behind broken relationships…..
I leave behind hates and death…..
I watch instead the sun rise in glorious brilliance of gold……
I bring myself as an offering to God the next day to unfold,
I am me.
J Worthen 6/2002
As I cry at night, I Pray that you hear me in vain,
The sound of birds singing, yet I feel no joy in vain,
Music that so enveloped my soul once, still eludes me in vain;
Emptiness still encompasses me in vain,
Your laughter, conversations, I long for in vain,
Rides in the country without you, now forgotten in vain,
Ocean memories and walks in the sun all in vain,
The smell of fresh rain and spring surrounds me in vain,
I write and paint memories trying to recapture in vain;
I try desperately in mourning to escape the cruelty of others in vain.
Alone is sollace with the Lord as I try to heal in vain.
I wander in the dark of my house at night in vain.
My cats meow and talk to console me in vain;
Our old routines and trips and sharing now in vain.
Sometimes I’d muse that I’d rather only live with animals in vain.
For they do not devise or hate but accept me not in vain;
They do not have to weep for their mistakes to God in vain,
But, I know that God hears me, and know that I mourn not in vain.
Oh Lord, when will it end? Stop the torment of my soul, in vain.
The simplest things in life I cannot yet appreciate all in vain.
There are now left only fragments of a life left in vain,
Looking in shop windows or shopping, the motions of life, in vain.
The empty vacuum and pain from your death…so much in vain.
So I communicate stoically with friends all in vain.
They have no idea of the solitary path that I endure in vain.
The beauty I appreciated, the sound of fresh wind, escape in vain.
Someday perhaps I might start loving and building again not in vain,
But, not now…its too soon yet, with immortality futile and in vain;
For my hearts been ripped out and the psalms of your blood cries out my son to me in vain….
I sometimes wish you were still small,
Not yet so big and strong and tall.
For when I think of yesterday,
I close my eyes and see you play.
I often m iss that little boy
Who pertered me to buy a toy.
Who filled my days with pure delight,
From early morn to late at night.
We watch our children change and grow,
As seasons come, then quickly go,
But our God has a perfect plan,
Too shape a boy into a man.
Today my son, I’m proud of you,
For all the things I hear you do.
I’ll love you son, til my days are done,
And I’m so grateful you’re my son.
I love you my oldest son Charlie….
Excerpts by Larry Howland
The gravesite that I’ve visited so often holds in death those dear,
That I loved and miss, will always long for and revere;
The memories and burials starting way way back,
With the death of my baby daughter that was so sad.
She was so tiny only three months when she died,
Nothing would give any peace at the time.
Then when I was thirty seven I lost my mom,
It was so hard, I had so much to overcome…
All things left unsaid, and misunderstandings as well,
As love failed to show me in grief I was helped,
For the cleansing of tears, erases so much
So many long years, of searching for God…
He finally came to answer me alone with another death,
My father, was next that I loved and so dreaded,
Such an anguish commencing, I held him so high
I thought I had gone through enough but oh, my,
This teenager, now is buried with my baby and folks,
How horrific his death, in his suicide some thought was a hoax,
I thought I had been through all the suffering that could be,
But, the death of a child at this gravesite, waiting for me…
A miracle with God’s help, I have become,
Finding peace and contentment visiting those that I love.
J Worthen Memorial Day 2001
On one bright sunny morning as the dew streamed through the trees,
I awoke to new awakenings, that spread it’s light on me.
To fill me with abundance of the Spirit of His love and grace.
And restore all the hope and joy with His countenance on my face.
My Lord has never failed me, in times of such deep misery…
But, the fullness of His presence, death becomes a memory.
The beautiful sound of springtime fills the air with buds in bloom.
I can now appreciate your infinite love, that erases all the gloom.
The birds singing each morning, while watching new baby geese,
Awakening to new life that goes on can give us needed peace.
Oh, Lord, You’ve got me through so much, I owe it all to you,
You paid a price for all our pain on that Cross at Calvary and knew;
The deep sufferings that would still go on, but faith would carry through,
I now can smile remembering happier times, as you heal the wounds.
I ask forgiveness for any doubts, in pain if I shut you out,
For oh my Lord, I love you so, there still wasn’t any doubt;
That you’d see me through and shine your light on me once more,
So I might glow with new awakenings til you beckon me at the door.
J Worthen 6/2001
Friends, you grew up with as a child,
Most, drifting apart trying to find themselves, to live in style;
A very few through the pains of life,
Turn up once in awhile amidst the strife.
When you are young with so many dreams and aspirations,
With the defeats, comes hurts that stop expectations.
You make new friends along the way,
Some that are only there when your on top as it may;
When marriages split or jobs are lost and struggles ensue,
These phony friends soon make an exit too.
You learn how to fed and make it through deep depressions,
Hurts, and backstabbing, amid pain and expressions;
Of hope for a future when all tear you down,
to thine own self be true, for they’d laugh if you drowned.
So you gird up and fight in this life to survive,
Holding your head up, you fight alone to thrive.
Even in families, hatreds can arise,
Over ignorance for what they cannot surmise.
One day you wake up and your talents have flourished,
your older and wiser, haing obercome all the horrors.
Divorces, estrangements, death, even a sons suicide,
Good Lord girl, look how muvh you survived.
You learned how to weed out the phony’s and fakes too,
Friends you have now, are solid and true.
Now in your sixties, there’s a short second chance,
To fulfill artistic dreams of youth seen at a glance,
Those that we have now are sure to endure.
For life’s stages we all must face and accept,
Cause the love that they showed as friends, you’ll never forget.
J E. Worthen 10/18/2001
PDF BEREAVEMENT BOOKLET
PDF HIS SOUL TO KEEP (ON BI-POLAR)