Poetry
Days, months and years had gone by,
I could never understand the reasons why,
I could never focus,
I could never see,
I could never rest my head so easily.
There were many fears I had,
I couldn't make myself stop feeling so sad.
Oh how my tears would over flow,
scared and lonely never wanting anyone to know.
Not my husband, nor my family or friends,
I wanted to be the strong one for them to depend.
I didn't know what I was going to do,
who was I going to take this all to?
My struggles were winning I couldn't go on,
my life was so stressful, my dreams were all gone.
I remembered what my mother said,
she taught me to pray tucking me in bed.
She would pray to Our Father as she gently spoke
her voice was like music always giving me hope.
I was 10 years old when she prayed with me,
that's when she gave herself to Jesus you see.
I remember her kneeling right next to my bed
after she prayed she would kiss my forehead.
Mom was like an angel always by my side,
we would sing and laugh as the days went by.
She loved the Lord with all of her heart and soul,
I had no doubt in mind where she would go.
Mother watched evangelists over the years,
she learned about Jesus it brought her to tears.
She watched Oral Roberts, Robert Schuller and Billy Graham.
I'm sure there were others that touched her heart,
God knew what he was doing what an excellent start.
Then all of a sudden I started to cry,
I remembered how I felt the day she died.
Four days of labor, four days of tears
it caught me off guard when I heard what
appeared....
The same morning I gave birth to my child,
someone had called to say, "Your mother has died".
I didn't want to remember, I didn't want to think,
my heart was torn open, I couldnāt breath.
The pain that I felt on that very day,
I didn't believe would ever go away.
I had so many questions along with my tears,
so many things inside me for years.
Wasn't this supposed to be one of the happiest days for me?
Why did this happen on this very day?
Was I being punished for something I did or some type of display?
All of these questions entered my mind,
as I lay my heart broken and on the line.
I was hurt to know she would never be there,
she would never see the sunshine in my son's hair.
She would never see him smile his first smile,
never would she play with him for a little while.
She would never kiss his face,
...nor would she share her warm embrace.
As I sat there remembering this pain I was feeling
I had to ask Our Father for his healing.
I sat there on the couch, changing the channel when I saw Paul and Jan Crouch.
I watched in wonder I couldn't believe my eyes,
they praised with their voices,
lifting their hands to the sky.
Their strength how it amazed me,
their smiles filled with grace,
I asked myself many questions like what was the race?
I listened and learned the message they spread,
it was all about Jesus and what he had said.
Their voices uplifting yet gentle and calm,
made me realize that I too belong.
I remained on the network, which is TBN,
to praise Our Father along with my friends.
I watched other's on satellite listening to pastor's and following Our Lords flight.
After this year of reading and learning God's Word
I thought I was crazy when I up and heard,
"You need more for your life so listen to me,
if you focus and pray I am the Key."
God turned me around in a spin, in a whirl,
I asked him to change my life to a pearl.
I knew at that moment that I was at peace,
for my life had been given to Christ Jesus the High Priest!
I don't know where I am going,
I don't know where I will be,
but my life is full of joy for he is showing me.
Paul and Jan Crouch continue to thrive,
giving God's message to people across the sky.
It never goes unnoticed,
it never goes unseen,
for God sees ALL and he loves what he sees..........
Always Think of Christ!
He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords!
This was written July 20, 2001 By Susan R. Cousins
About 2 weeks after I was born again!
This Poem is dedicated in loving memory of my Mother Roxie Lee (Bowden)
Pezzella. Moms nickname was Mildred. Born January 8, 1922 and died
November 21, 1982.
This is also dedicated to my son Michael James Carlisle Jr. to whom I am very
proud of and is worth all four days I was in labor. Born November 21, 1982
the same day my mother died.
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