life, liberty & the law

I sat in the halls of Justice, where Freedom once did ring – I heard there deadly silence, where patriots once did sing.

I sat in the halls of Justice, and listened for the Truth – “the law is dead”, I heard instead, “society is the proof”.

I walked the halls of Justice, where once the Law prevailed – tempered by time, yet still intact, her honor unassailed.

I walked the halls of Justice, beheld tears in Mercy’s eyes – how she did weep for her dead friend!  “who dares the Law despise?”

I sat in the halls of Justice, where once Liberty lived secure – but only while the Law was king, could Liberty’s reign endure.

I walked the halls of Justice, seeking something yet alive – for if Freedom is to ring again, the Law, she must survive.

Yes, those who would destroy the Law or bend her to their need – remove the foundation our fathers built, our country’s faith and creed.

for if the Law cannot hold one, then she cannot hold all – then Liberty, Justice, Mercy – are surely doomed to fall.

I sat in the halls of Justice, and heard Freedom’s  faint refrain – “the law yet lives in spite of man, the Truth she will sustain.”

“The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul.  The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple.  The precepts of the Lord are right, giving joy to the heart.  The commands of the Lord are radiant, giving light to the eyes.”(Psalm 19:7-8)

“Oh, how I love Your law!  I meditate on it all day long.” (Psalm 119:97)

“Streams of tears flow from my eyes, for Your law is not obeyed.” (Psalm 119:136)

“So then, the law is holy, and the commandment is holy, righteous and good.” (Romans 7:12)

sincerely,     Grace Day




treasuring you

let me treasure you for a little while, for the road ahead is long – and I so often need your smile, to cheer me as I go on.

let me treasure you for a little while, let us talk of birds and flowers – or hidden houses in the trees, a pleasant way to pass the hours.

let me treasure you for a little while, there will be time for other things – for fame and fortune to be found, when you have gone on angel wings.

let me treasure you while the day is new, while the sun yet shines on high – while on the grass still lies the dew, which come the night will light the sky.

let me treasure you while you are here, sharing these moments with me – let me treasure you now just as you are, for I shall need the memory.

sincerely,        Grace Day

the circle

How sweet are beginnings, the first of anything – how sad are the endings, beginnings always bring.

The first snowfall, the first sun’s rays, the early days of spring – the violet’s first appearance, is cause enough to sing!

Yet soon brown leaves must fall to earth, revealing trees with branches bare – while loved ones leave for other lands, their unfilled spaces bring despair.

With the first notes of a symphony, wings of joy seize my heart!  with the last flickers of the campfire, I know that we will part.

and so are mixed my joy and pain as on the cycle goes – the joy when flowers first appear, the dying of a rose.

One couldn’t be without the other, now you must surely see – in endings each, new life begins, so goes the mystery.

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”  (Revelation 22:13)

sincerely,       Grace Day

the miracle of a moment

Today was just a day like any other day, and he was just a boy like any other boy.

He knew today would be like yesterday and like tomorrow.  For him there was no difference in the days.  He did not see how the golden leaves moved against the blue sky.  He did not feel the autumn sun.  He did not hear the robin singing.  For him the days were made of loneliness and pain.

She was just an old lady, walking slowly along like any other old lady on the street. He watched her anyway.  There was nothing else for him to do.  He thought how slowly she moved and how heavy her bag of groceries must be.  But he did not move.

She did not see how the golden leaves moved against the blue sky.  She did not feel the autumn sun.  She did not hear the robin singing.  For her the days were made of loneliness and pain.

He saw them before she did – the boys on their bicycles, heading straight for her, circling her, riding too close, until she fell and her groceries scattered.

He watched the boys ride away laughing, looking for someone else to entertain them. He thought how their only laughter came from someone else’s pain.

He watched the old lady slowly gathering up her belongings.  He thought how mean the boys were and he hated them for their meanness.  But he did not move.

He watched her.  There was nothing else for him to do.  He did not hear the robin singing.

Then he was beside her, putting her things carefully into the bag, handing her the purse she had dropped.  It was then he looked at her and saw for the first time her face.  It was familiar to him – not strange at all.  What the boy saw in her face, he knew very well.

Neither of them spoke a word.  He handed her the refilled bag.  She smiled at him and reached out her hand to touch his shoulder.  For a moment the loneliness was gone from her eyes and from his.

It was just a moment of kindness and connection that passed between them, amid their days of loneliness and isolation.  But it is this moment they each will remember when they think of this day, not the meanness of the boys.  Because a kind moment shines in the memory becoming brighter and warmer with the passage of time.  A moment of kindness dims those more painful memories with its’ sheer brilliance.

She moved slowly away.  As she did, she saw how the golden leaves moved against the blue sky and she felt the autumn sun.  She heard the robin singing as if for the first time.

He watched her go.  He saw how the golden leaves moved against the blue sky and he felt the autumn sun.

It was just a moment of kindness in a world of pain.  Yet they each knew the secret truth – that this moment could sustain, indeed would sustain, the heart.

He watched her go as he listened to the robin singing.

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”  (Ephesians 4:32)

sincerely,          Grace Day


if I could paint your portrait, what colors would I choose?  How can anyone color love?  perhaps in rainbow’s hues?

a rainbow’s spectrum is complete, the prism shows its’ glory – white light holds all earthly hues, maybe these will paint your story.

yet who would paint a still life when your life is never still –  but flows like springs of water, with love our lives to fill.

who could paint your spirit of silently flowing grace?  no brush could capture with its’ strokes, the beauty in your face.

and so these love lines are for you – they’re all I have to give; such a small reward for one who taught me how to live.

“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.”  (Exodus 20:12)

sincerely,          Grace Day




wishboats on the water, candles shining on the sea –  into the darkness of the night, they float so silently.

wishboats on the water, candles glowing on a lake – into a future yet to be, our dearest dreams they take.

made of tree bark and forest things, by clumsy, childish hands – they carry the wishes of each young heart, to unknown, distant lands.

stars above are shining, like the tiny lights below – reflections on the glassy water, as we watch our wish boats go.

young girls’ voices sing sweetly, into a night so stilled – as our wishboats on the water sail silent, carrying wishes unfulfilled.

so we send them out into the world, hoping they remain afloat – they set the summer night aglow, with light from every boat.

our wishes lighting up the world in one small blaze of glory – each boat carries secret dreams, each one tells a story.

wishboats on the water, into the world we watched them go – wishboats on the water, where they landed we can’t know.

sincerely,      Grace Day



castles and curls

three little girls, with ringlets in their hair – three little girls, their laughter is so fair.

three little girls, how happily they play!  three little girls, on such a sunny day.

three little girls, white blankets on the grass –  dolls are in their arms, oh how the time has passed!

three little girls, building cloud castles in the sky – and castles in the sandbox, oh how the time goes by,  for

three little girls, playing without a care – three little girls, with ringlets in their hair.

“But Jesus called the children to Him and said, ‘Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’ ”  (Luke 18:16-17)

sincerely,      Grace Day

masterpieces amid the mundane

God is the master artist, His canvas is the sky – His brush strokes are the wind drifts, His colors never dry.

for they are ever changing, from dawn till setting sun – each moment’s perfect beauty, He captures every one.

God paints the rosy sky at dawn and fluffy clouds at noon – that lengthen into pastel pink, to welcome in the moon.

He paints the fiery sunsets of purple clouds etched in gold, the splendor of God’s skyscapes, no earthly canvas holds.

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.”  (Psalm 19:1)

sincerely,       Grace Day



the lake

there is a lake at sunrise, too lovely to behold;  mist rising from the water, each moment etched in gold.

I love this lake at sunrise, I can see her still;  pink clouds over sand dunes, a cottage on a hill.

blueberries grow behind the house, sea shells lie on the sand;  wind whips the water into waves, oh how I loved this land!

a blue heron lives in our bayou, I can still hear her cry;  wild geese swim among the reeds, or glide across the sky.

the north bayou harbors no houses, just birch trees tall and white; against the blue of lake and sky they stand, a most breathtaking sight.

there is a lake at sunset, when wind and waves do cease; then my lake lies down till she’s smooth as glass, and all is perfect peace.

next stars appear, as if summoned by the loon’s calling;  so many twinkling lights I watch, upon the water’s surface falling.

dock lights dot the shoreline, where the water laps the sand;  all is quiet on the lake – oh how I love this land!

“And God said, ‘Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.’  And it was so.  God called the dry ground “land” and the gathered waters He called “seas.”  And God saw that it was good.”  (Genesis 1:9-10)

sincerely,      Grace Day


if you had only known that joy was almost here,  would you have so untimely shut your eyes and stilled your heart?

if you had but believed happiness would again be yours – would not you have clung to life, endured its’ pain, if only for the promise of relief from constant sorrow?

is sadness such bad company, that you would rather nothing know at all; than know the loss of what was dear?

and fill that space, now empty, with courage and with hope that joy will for a season fill that space, till sorrow comes to take its’ place –

we must endure by faith alone, till joy returns to bear us home –

as our reward for walking with sorrow unafraid.

“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”  (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”  (Psalm 34:18)

sincerely,       Grace Day