Hi From the Sky: On The Road to Happily Ever After!

“Mother”and “wife” are just two simple words,

And yet, inexpressibly dear.

They draw you a picture of one woman’s life

And the words make the picture quite clear.

You imagine the scenes that unfold through the years.

Days filled with laughter, with headaches and tears.

A woman not perfect and yet one who tries

To reach out to her family and maintain the ties.

You helped her bake cakes when you were a kid

And constantly begged for a lick.

She stayed up all night, mopping your brow

And giving you broth when you were sick.

She listened with patience as you poured out your heart

And spent hours bending her ear.

Then you doubted the wisdom and answers she gave,

When she told you the things you did not want to hear.

There are many professions noble and true,

Many a “call” in this life...

But few can compare with the guts that it takes

To be “just” a mother and wife.

Ann Ault

The Apple of His Eye

The apple of your eye,

But Lord, how can that be?

This little apple falls so short ...

No one’s fruitier than me.

Inside our bushel basket

We fellow apples toss ...

We rub each other the wrong way,

And end up apple sauce.

We try to be so bright and shiny,

To please you more and more.

But there are days we go out of our tree ...

We’re rotten to the core.

Instead of crisp, we’re baked and fried ...
Like living in an oven.

Instead of juicy, all dried up ...

We’re thirsty for your lovin’.

But You’re the Gardener and You’ve said

We’re the “apple of Your eye”...

And as we cling to the Tree of Life

We know that you don’t lie!

You fertilize and plant the seeds

And prune us as we grow.

It all stems from Your Word of Love

As patiently You sow.

O thank You, Lord, for Your great care ...

You love a fruit like me...

And always we shall ever hang

On your salvation tree.

Ann Ault

Self Pity Pit

I’m poised on the edge

Of the SELF-PITY-PIT.

The precipice crumbles

The closer I sit.

I know what it’s like

To fall into the pit.

At the bottom you sink …

I don’t like it a bit!

The slimy doubts taunt you

And make you feel fruitless.

The quicksand of mocking

Tells you you’re useless.

The muck of depression

Surrounds you with gloom.

You slip over thoughts

Of unspeakable doom.

So I try to stay far

From that pit of despair.

I cry to my God

For His love and His care.

He pulls me away

From the pit and the slime.

His undeserved grace …

Divine Free Fall

I look back at the times You would call me to go

And to follow You over the years.

You would tell me to go when I didn’t know where

And I gingerly plowed through my fears.

I was “Alice in Wonderland” venturing out …

I couldn’t resist Your clear call.

But I fought off the doubts as I jumped off the edge,

And breathlessly plunged into divine free fall.

I felt the elation and terror conspire,

Relentlessly plaguing my mind.

I groped for the Light, some scripture or hope,

Flailing for something concrete I could find.

I finally landed, but to my delight

Holy Papa had kept me from harm.

I remembered once more that in spite of the fall

underneath are His comforting arms.

The adventure continues and gets even more challenging,

Trusting the promises made.

But how much would we miss if we say “no” to Him,

We are learning to simply “do it afraid”!

Ann Ault