The first poem is about choosing to
love through the difficult times when Billy would have to leave her and the
children to go on the road.
Love without clinging;
cry if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to the newness of loving
in practical ways:
cleaning and cooking
and sorting out clothes,
all say, “I love you,”
when lovingly done.
cry if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to the newness of loving
in practical ways:
cleaning and cooking
and sorting out clothes,
all say, “I love you,”
when lovingly done.
So— love without
clinging;
cry— if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to the length of his stride,
the song he is singing,
the trail he must ride,
the tensions that make him
the man that he is,
the world he must face,
the life that is his.
cry— if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to the length of his stride,
the song he is singing,
the trail he must ride,
the tensions that make him
the man that he is,
the world he must face,
the life that is his.
So love without
clinging;
cry—if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to being the heart,
not the forefront of life;
a part of himself,
not the object—
his wife.
cry—if you must—
but privately cry;
the heart will adjust
to being the heart,
not the forefront of life;
a part of himself,
not the object—
his wife.
So—love!
Once she expressed her longing with a short poem
We are told to wait on
You.
But, Lord, there is no
time.
My heart implores upon
its knees,
“Hurry!... please.
There were times things went too fast for her and at that
time she wrote a poem
A little more time,
Lord,
Just a little more
time.
There’s so much to do,
So much undone.
If it’s all right with
you, Lord,
Please stop the sun.
There’s forever before
me
Forever with you;
But a little more time
For the so much to do.
When Ruth had understand that God do things in His way, she
wrote
As I was praying day
and night,
Night and day,
Quietly God was saying
“Let there be light” –
My way.
When Ruth wanted to describe God’s eternal love, she wrote
And I lay, where for
long in despair I had lain,
Entered, unshod, the
holy,
There where God dwells
with His pain –
Alone with the pain of
the price He had paid
In giving His Son for
a world gone astray-
The world He had made,
My heart lay in
silence,
Worshipped in silence;
and questioned no more.”
Her poem about the end of life
It Won’t Be Long …
It won’t be long –
the sun is slowly slipping out of sight;
lengthening shadows deepen into dusk;
still winds whisper;
all is quiet;
it won’t be long
– till night.
the sun is slowly slipping out of sight;
lengthening shadows deepen into dusk;
still winds whisper;
all is quiet;
it won’t be long
– till night.
It won’t be long –
the tired eyes close,
her strength is nearly gone;
frail hands that ministered to many
lie quiet, still;
Light from another world!
Look up, bereaved!
It won’t be long
– till Dawn!
the tired eyes close,
her strength is nearly gone;
frail hands that ministered to many
lie quiet, still;
Light from another world!
Look up, bereaved!
It won’t be long
– till Dawn!
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