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When He Stays His Hand
Dan Carter August 12, 2009
 
Thank you, friend
Thank you, Becky for all the gifts your bring and share with us. The songs, the words, the gentle smile, and so very much more. Thank you for these insights about Ryan's life. About what he brought and taught to all of us. As this process unfolds, this life and death, I hope you can find those healing pools of living water. I hope you'll write about them in juxtaposition of the trials, fires and sorrows. Perhaps that's that only way to give them depth and meaning so we can comprehend them. Blessings to you and your wonderful family, Dan
Becky August 3, 2009
 
Faith and Hope
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Ryan was only 5 when he left his safe home for cold hospital rooms and scary procedures. He saw suffering no child should see, and situations much worse than death. He said goodbye to young friends, rolled away in little red wagons when the prayers of their grieving parents failed to save them. How could I tell him that a loving God watches over all his children?  Surprisingly, when I had no words to teach him, he taught me.  This poem, written over 18 years describes my journey of faith with Ryan as my guide.  The last 4 lines came to me after his death, which of course I attribute to Ryan's inspiration and experience. 
 
 
 
 
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WHEN HE STAYS HIS HAND 

 

Penned 1991-2009 by Rebecca Berg    ·   Inspired by Ryan Close 1985-2009
 
I once believed in God,
The God who heard my childhood prayers and kept watch over me,
And sent His angels forth to lead me out of jeopardy,
Who tenderly worked miracles
To halt the cruel unspeakables;
This God revered and trusted,
Where is He?
There was no grief, no senseless loss that He could not undo.
There was no question of His Hand in everything I knew,
And youthful hopes and dreams fulfilled
Proved circumstance was as he willed.
Oh, God, so kind and present,
Where are you?
How could I keep believing in a God who lingers by,
Watching in deaf silence as suffering children cry?
I shed my innocence in search of meaning, truth, and peace,
But found no solace in a world of godless agonies.
And in my darkest moment, I looked to stars on high,
Awaiting those unseen, except against the blackest sky –
A glimpse of Boundless Power brought hope, and begged me understand
That God is God because he loves enough to stay His hand.
And then I knew the God I left was never God at all,
But Servant of my own will, bound by human protocol.
Oh, forgive my wounded pride and calm my aching fears,
Let shallowness be swept away through trial, pain, and tears.
Oh, I believe in God --
My God of Love who shares my grief and knows my agony,
And yet in infinite respect, submits this test to me!
With willing heart, I humbly bow
To every wound He must allow. 
Oh God of Man’s potential,
Stand by me!
So when I cry, “It isn’t fair!” or think to ask, “Why me?”
Oh, help me to remember there are stars I cannot see!
Refiner’s Fire, burn and groan,
Until I kneel at His throne
In humble thanks
That God believed in me.

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