Year in review. Hope in trial.

Though the battles, have been rough,

Our eyes they see, our eyes look up!

The glinting on horizon stands,

Our faith to see, unfolding plans.

No matter what we must endure,

Our hope in trial, is destined sure;

Amoung the crash catastrophe,

God’s Hand of work, we clearly see!

The prophet’s eye, zoom far to see,’

Cross centuries, God’s tapestry!

Each moment, details very small,

Was in His plan, was at His call.

The insignificant, was grand!

The harvest mighty in His plan!

The ordinary plain to see,

Holds wonders in eternity!

But oh! The sacrificial love!

The greatest plan, of heaven above!

With buff and heat and pain below,

So love of huge proportions grows!

The gem our God creates right here,

Exceptional in beauty dear,

Is clothed in rags, and pain, and tears,

Yet inward shines increasing clear!

So lift your eyes, above bleak doubt,

And in His mighty love, now shout!

He’ll finish what began in you,

A perfect work, of love that’s true.

By Lisa Lawlor

Even In Darkness, There Is Light and In Death, There Is Rebirth

Ari Joshua Bouse's avatarClassroom Mothership Earth

Artwork by Barbara Merlotti

Growing up, Mother’s depression was a suffocating and

crippling darkness that shrouded over me like a dark cloud.

She reflected on her experiences with depression by describing them

like storms that took her over like demonic possession.

I remember when Mother described how terrifying it was for her

when she crossed into the realm of psychosis,

and lost perspective on how to differentiate between reality testing of madness and lucidity.

This was a woman who would voluntarily check herself into

a psychiatric hospitalization and then break herself out.

But I can appreciate being stupid like a fox or a con artist conning himself.

Been there, done that.

Looking back, seeing Mother’s Higher Self being dominated by her lower self

was enough to drive me nuts.

As much as it was hard for her to breathe,

it was hard for those of us around her to breathe…

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