Like Fireworks on Independence Day

Not my usual post, but one of my poems I've resurrected for Independence Day...

It was my job. Clean

the church. 

Dust, sweep, vacuum.

Mother.

I brought my trio along,

Baby Emma in the stroller. The other two

were old enough to help

straighten Bibles, hymn books, kneelers.

That church sang to my spirit,

its history seeped into my soul.

Colonists sought freedom.

So did I.  Freedom from

venomous condemnation

and alcohol-laced abuse.

Sunlight streamed, spilling

hope unto wooden pews and lighting

the aisle with splashes of color

reflecting from stained glass windows.

The church bells rang out

carols, the message of the birth

of a Savior, Who came to bring

freedom.

The church bells rang out

clear, a message

to me.

And sunlight

lit my path like fireworks on

Independence Day.

So I took a

leap of faith

and left my accuser, and

took on

a new role. Single

Mother.

And I cleaned and

dusted and swept

and vacuumed.

Twenty years later…

I helped

Emma and her new husband clean

their apartment. 

Dust, sweep, vacuum.

With windows open

to fresh air, I heard it—the intimate

carol of bells.

Job complete, I followed

the call to the empty chapel,

doors open, pews waiting

for me

to slide in.

In the stillness, my breathing

deliberate, I inhaled

the familiar aroma

of ancient wood and Murphy’s Oil.

My hand followed the smooth curve

of the pew splashed with the glow of a

stained glass window, a magnificent picture

"Instinctively I knelt and waited for a message."

of Jesus praying in the garden before

the accuser arrived.

My eyes focused

on the inscription:

“Dedicated to those who use this chapel

as a house of prayer.”

Instinctively I knelt and waited

for a message. And then it came. 

Those church bells

rang out an Easter hymn about a

risen Savior, a resurrected life,

resounding Alleluia!

Alleluia! 

It is a new period in my life! 

Time to resurrect

hope, bring to life

old dreams, for this broken glass

has been fitted together and

stained by the Master Artisan.

And sunlight floods my soul,

lighting my path like fireworks on

Independence Day.