North Tenth Street

The following is an excerpt to understanding the poem that follows the story-

"As I sat there, I felt like the little kid again, whose feet couldn't quite reach the ground yet, sitting on a bench. As i sat there I talked with her about all the exciting things going on, from youth ministry, to moving, to future plans, dreams, goals, concerns, worries, and hopes. As I lamented on memories past and dreamed of new memories to be made, she always listened.

She always spoke of love, and mercy, of hope and faith. She cherished her family, and loved her God. She not only spoke of it, but lived it as well. She dreamt of a day she would run again, see Jesus face to face. She spoke with such compassion her concern for those who did not know Jesus, who did not know peace. But her life and words worked together, never bringing doubt to her sincerity for her faith.

I still can hear her speaking to me. In those moments when I doubt, she's encouraging me. In those moments when I am excited, she celebrates with me. In those moments I am alone, I can still here her saying its going to be ok. And in those moments when I just don't know what to do, her wisdom speaks even now, in my heart, and in her life.

And when I stand to worship Jesus, she is worshipping too, seeing him face to face. For we still worship Him together

As I get up off the bench, I remember these things. And I cherish them all"

(Above was written in 2006, below is written 2011)

NORTH TENTH STREET

On a bench by a a little tree
We find our distant memories
Of children laughing suddenly
And crying all night long.

Where peace has settled down
Among the dried up leaves
Still lying on the broken ground
Rustling in the wind.

Where sorrow crosses paths
With inspiration that moves us,
Spurred on by passion and pain
That brought us here.

We hear the quiet voices
Whispering to us a holy calm
To the aching, beating hearts
Longing for someone to love.

Bittersweet stillness reminds us
Of what we once had, but lost;
In what is left of this life
We hold to an eternal home.

Distant sounds of laughter sing,
Ringing in our wounded souls,
That remind us again and again
Of our only Hope found in joy.

We see the stories of yesteryear
Playing in the sacred memories
Of thoughts of so long ago
That still linger on and on.

-----

In a field of grass and trees
Is a stone bench by a monument,
A solemn reminder that we long,
Long for something more.

Its found on a quiet side street
Were the sun shines down,
Filled with stories never told
And memories never shared.