Liquid Prayers

author unknown

The tears flow freely down my cheeks

Each drop a silent word to speak

Sometimes when it’s too hard to pray

My tears know just the words to say…

I thank you, God, for tears that fall

The words are silent, but they’re there…

Each one a silent, liquid prayer.

Great-grandchildren

Heavenly Father, I am sitting here in my rocking chair,

Holding my little great-grandaughter, Zoe, wrapped in a blanket of pink.

How special it is to welcome another great-grandchild,

An adorable little girl who will bring more joy into our lives.

By my side stands her brother, Ian, who is a big brother now at 16 months old.

He calls her “babee” as he gently pats her.

He’s allowed to kiss her on her head,

And he does it ever so carefully, with a little smack of his lips.

Guide these precious ones. Keep them physically and emotionally safe Lord.

Give their parents wisdom and understanding as they guide and teach them everyday.

Fill their home with love and joy. Help us to be the kind of grandparents you

Would have us to be, supportive, loving, and caring.

Thank you, dear Lord, for the privilege of being grandparents.

© Judy Neibergall Heusman, 2011

God Bless Grandmas

God blessed children with grandmothers because He knew,

There are some things only grandmas can do.

Stories to tell and songs to sing; that only she knows,

My grandma is never in a hurry, she even walks slow.

We go for walks in the park, with things to explore,

Who could ever ask for anything more?

Tea parties to have with your favorite doll or bear,

I love my grandma and when I’m with her we never have a care.

© Judy Neibergall Heusman, 2011

Grandmothers

Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for my grandchildren,

And for allowing me to be their grandmother.

Help me to speak Your words and to touch their lives

In a way that will encourage them to look to You.

Give them the wisdom and strength to follow You

All the days of their lives.

I pray each of them will be grounded in Your Word.

May they grow strong in their faith so they can

Resist temptation all the days of their lives,

And set their hearts on treasures in heaven.

It is my prayer that one day we may all be in heaven

In an unbroken circle of love.

© Judy Neibergall Heusman, 2011

What God Hath Promised

By Annie Johnson Flint

God hath not promised skies always blue,

Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through,

God hath not promised sun without rain,

Joy without sorrow, peace without pain,

But God hath promised strength for the day,

Rest for the labor, light for the way;

Grace for the trials, help from above,

Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

A Dedication To My Grandmothers

In memory of my dear, beloved grandmothers,

Fern Brown and Minnie Neibergall.

To my dear great-grandmother, Ella Davidson,

 And to my great-great-grandmother, Elmira Coon,

Whom I never knew, but have heard of her faith and sweet spirit.

You have all left a beautiful legacy of a life well lived,

 For generations that have come after you.

I praise the Lord for your lives and the example

Your lives have been for me.

        One of my favorite hymns is, “In the Garden.” This song was sung at my great-grandmothers funeral, my grandmothers, and I’m sure it will by sung at my mother and fathers, as well as my own.
In the Garden
C. Austin Miles
“I come to the garden alone,
While the dew is still on the roses;
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.
And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other, has ever known.

     My great-grandmother, Ella Davidson, had a pretty flower garden. I was only eleven years old when she passed away, but I remember her hollyhocks, and a beautiful ‘Blaze,’ climbing red rose that grew on a white trellis at the corner of her house. My grandmother, Fern Brown, also had a beautiful flower garden. She had designated areas for dahlias, iris, day lilies, peonies, and miniature iris that surrounded her rose bed. She was an avid gardener, and would pour over her gardening catalogs all winter long, deciding what new plants would adorn her garden come spring. My dad, Bill Neibergall, was the gardener at our home while I was growing up and he still is today at ninety-two years old. My mom, Marilayne, ninety years old, dead heads the spent blooms from the flowers and cooks the vegetables from the vegetable garden and talk’s dad into new plants when they go shopping at the nursery. Dad does the planting, weeding, watering and fertilizing. Dad told mom one day that when he picks her a bouquet of roses, that’s how he says, I love you. After 70 years of marriage, that’s a lot of roses and a lot of loving. I feel so blessed to still have them both in my life.

     I too, am an avid gardener. I have always loved flowers; from gathering wildflowers as a child, to my collection of 50 rose bushes, and now to mostly container gardening, as the bending over or kneeling to the soil level has become almost impossible as my age and my arthritis advances. I love to garden. In Arizona we plant in early October and our gardens produce until June when the heat comes and scorches the blooms, although there are still many flowers who love the heat, the petunias, pansies, dianthus, lobelia, and alyssum, aren’t happy.

    If we have a frost, perhaps once or twice a winter, we cover the containers with sheets and they survive. But the vinca, Mexican bird of paradise, periwinkle, lantana, and most shrubs survive our 100-118 degree heat, giving us flowers the year around. What a blessing it is to live in Arizona, where we can garden the year around.