Sunday, March 31, 2013

He is Risen!



It’s Holy Saturday


Dough is rising

on the kitchen counter


filling me with thoughts

of rising


helium balloons

set free



over the Sea of Galilee


waking up




soap bubbles

floating skyward


seagulls soaring



booming and bursting


jet planes at take-off


rocket ships

with long trails of fire

zooming to the moon


O, but nothing




and no one


has ever done it


or will


…like Jesus


Maude Carolan Pych

Friday, March 29, 2013

Remembering Good Fridays



When I was a girl, back in the 50’s

my grandmother said

there should be no talking on Good Friday

between the hours of one and three


no running around, no radio and no TV

all out of respect for our Savior

Who suffered and died

upon the Cross at Calvary


so try though we did to be silent and still

we were as fidgety, squirmy and irksome

as any healthy active kids would be

who had not yet grasped

the profound depth of what happened

that terrible good day


and in the 70’s when my own children

were young and restless

I would bring them to church

during the very same hours Grandma decreed

to venerate the holy Cross

We’d approach the altar

where the Crucifix was displayed

kneel down and kiss the nail pierced feet of Jesus

or solemnly watch a reenactment of the Passion

by the youth group


Now, so many years later

now that I am a grandmother myself

I sit without fidgeting and fumbling

willingly turn off the radio and the TV

and carve out meaningful time to meditate

upon all my precious Lord endured

to save me from my sins


Sometimes I sing

“Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?”

Sometimes I weep

and sometimes, like today, I write a poem


Always, Jesus’ great sacrifice breaks my heart

and always, looking ahead to the empty tomb

I’m reminded of the Hallelujah Hope

I have in Him—which is eternal


My grandma would be so pleased


Maude Carolan Pych
Take some time today to remember Jesus' sacrifice to save us from our sins.
Oh, how He loves you and me!

Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Pieta
(Read or Listen)
After the earthquake
the peals of thunder
the flashes of lightening across the sky
After the curious crowds dispersed
Mary sat in ominous dimness
upon a mound of earth
at the base of The Cross
holding the body
of her Son
She cradled Him
in the hollow of her lap
close to her bosom
as she had
when he was
her baby boy
Mary removed
thorns of mockery
that encircled His forehead
and tossed it to the side
Straining to see in the shadows
she carefully picked
fragments of thorn needles
still stuck in His lifeless flesh
although they couldn’t hurt Him
any longer
With her fingertips
she tenderly closed the lids
over His dark, vacant eyes
and smoothed
the disheveled, matted hair
…then she kissed Him
O my beautiful Son…
Tears flowed
down her face onto His cheeks
mingling with dried blood
With the edge of her garment
she wiped some blood away
John came
and rested his hand
upon her trembling shoulder
He was now her son
She was now his mother
too deep to comprehend
swirled in her mind
like the flap and flutter
of wings and overshadowing
Son of the Most High
and David’s throne
like pregnant Elizabeth’s joy
when the baby leapt in her womb
and the Baptizer himself, when grown
proclaiming his younger cousin
“The Lamb of God, Who
takes away the sin of the world”
and Simeon’s prophesy
that Jesus would be
a Light of revelation
to the Gentiles and the glory
of the people of Israel
Where is the Light?
Where is the glory?
Where is the throne?
Overwhelmed by sorrow
so intense it stabbed her
deep, deep in her inner parts
Mary cried out in anguish
and rent her robe
Was this what old Simeon meant
long ago in the Temple
when he held Jesus in his arms
and said a sword would pierce
my very soul?
O my Son, my beautiful Son…
I cannot fathom the ways of God, but
I do know this cannot be the end
Maude Carolan Pych


Friday, March 22, 2013

Messianic Passover Seder at the Jerusalem Center Tonight




It’s only ordinary unleavened bread

Ordinary matzoh

On an earthen plate

It probably came

From a supermarket shelf

A Manischewitz box

Ordinary matzoh

Blessed for Passover

Oh, but when I take it

And cradle it lovingly

In my hands

Break it and bless it

It is for me

Most Holy Bread

Good Friday Bread

Body of the Lamb that was slain

With my cup of Redemption

Communion Bread

Lechem without hametz

Without yeast of sin




Shrouded afikomen


Then resurrected

With glory

I partake

Alleluia, alleluia

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!


This poem was published in William W. Francis’ book, Celebrate the Feasts of The Lord. Crest Books.

A Messianic Passover Seder will take place this evening, 8 p.m., at Beth Israel Worship Center/The Jerusalem Center, 11 Railroad Avenue, Wayne, NJ. All are welcome.


Friday, March 15, 2013

It's all about...THE LAMB Vol. 13; Issue 1

March 15, 2013
Vol. 13, Issue 1




It’s all about…The Lamb



Maude Carolan Pych/Quarterly Poetry Letter



“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches

and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing.” Rev 5:12 NASB



It’s all about…The Lamb is a quarterly publication for lovers of the Holy Lamb of God, who also enjoy poetry. The purpose is to magnify our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and inspire an ever-deepening relationship with Him, the lover of our souls…



Of course it’s a mom’s prerogative to boast, so pardon me please as I tell you that I was excited and proud to have my son, Kevin Caruso, be the guest speaker at the North Jersey Christian Writers Group (NJCWG) meeting in January. He spoke on the topic of screenwriting, and as I listened, I learned considerably more about screenwriting than I knew before. I’m sure many of the writers in the group would echo that statement.


Kevin is the founder of the New Jersey Screenwriters Network, which meets in Westfield, N.J. His screenplay THE RUT was a Nicholl Fellowship semifinalist and won the Cinestory Screenwriting Competition. THE RUT is currently being packaged with director Karyn Kusama  and actress Chloe Moretz . He co-wrote the film I TRIED for CodeBlack Entertainment. The DVD went platinum, selling over 250 thousand units. Kevin’s screenplay EXPOSURES OF WAR received a perfect score and the highest monetary award ever from the New Jersey Council of the Arts. In 2010, his “Southland” speculation piece was the First Place winner in the Scriptapalooza TV Competition.

Kevin took the group on a verbal tour of the how-tos of writing a script, editing, networking, social media, agents, managers, marketing, contests, etc. He undoubtedly supplied enough fodder to give our talented writers a nudge to attempt this form of writing.




My friend, Barbara R. Williams-Hubbard, was the featured poet Saturday, February 23rd at Classic Quiche Café in Teaneck, participating in the North Jersey Literary Series hosted by Paul Nash and Denise LaNeve. It was Barbara’s first featured performance. I was blessed to be in the audience.


Barbara began her presentation by reciting poems and singing, beautifully and without musical accompaniment, about the season of Lent and Easter. In one of the poems she portrayed Mary Magdalene, in costume. Then, after an open reading, Barbara returned to the podium to perform another set of poems on various subjects. Throughout, God was wonderfully and poetically glorified.


Then, on March 9th, Barbara exhibited and read three poems at the annual St. Catherine of Bologna Art, Photography & Poetry Exhibition in Ringwood, N. J. She won the Judge’s Choice award for poetry, for the second year in a row, this time for, “Chartres”.


I’m pleased to say that two of Barbara’s poems are featured in this edition of “It’s all about…THE LAMB.” They are both from her series, “Wilderness Musings for Lent and Easter” and are titled, “Released” and “Palm Sunday: I am Seeing You”. It’s a perfect time to read them, meditatively…


+ + +  THE POEMS FOLLOW  + + +



 I am seeing you--

walking, riding towards Jerusalem,

shouts of triumph overshadowing

the wailing that is to come.

Were you calm, sad, resolute?

Did you wave to the crowds

or simply ride through their midst

blocking out the sound

of their self-proclaimed expectations,

voicing their, not your truth?

I struggled yesterday to make a palm cross

with my granddaughter;

tried to remember how,

recalling the voices of children

on that day, and now,

I am seeing me--

looking with eyes into a 2,000 year old past,

standing in the background,

understanding what the crowd then did not.

Hosanna that you came,

I say quietly inside myself.

You, the Lord of the universe

with a kingdom not of this world.

Hosanna that you came

to save all who call upon your name.

Hosanna that you came and saved me.

Hosanna that you came

and saved this child who knows

and in her own way, playing with the palms,

honors you.


Barbara R. Williams-Hubbard

© 2005





The days move forward.

Jesus knows his time is coming.

The cross is imminent--

a shadow in his every step,

every word,

every action.

He continues to teach,

reassuring his followers of his love,

speaking more plainly than before,

training them for the test of faith ahead,

praying for them with his every breath.

I wonder, did he toss and turn in his sleep,

struggling with the inevitable,

like we do when we know

the cross ahead of us will not pass?

In the garden, he bowed his head,

resting at last in his father's will,

in a love that would not let him go

and that would raise him three days later

from the dead.

I have come to know the promise of "Your will be done"

as sorrow mixed with joy,

resolution mixed with trust,

fear calmed by hope,

death followed by new life.

Thank you, Lord, for speaking plainly,

so that I in my simplicity can understand

the grandness of your love,

the greatness of your sacrifice.

And help me, Lord,

when I am prostrate on your altar

to remember

Easter morning, daybreak

with birds singing softly

and your voice to a weeping Mary,

even as I kneel with her

and weep.


Barbara R. Williams-Hubbard

© 2005



Comments are welcome and appreciated.


Look for the next edition of It’s All About…The Lamb, June 15, 2013






Dear Subscriber,

In closing, I’ll echo a few words from Barbara’s poem…

“Thank you, Lord, for speaking plainly,

so that I in my simplicity can understand

the grandness of your love,

the greatness of your sacrifice.”


Blessings to you as we approach Passover and Resurrection Day…days which remind us that we are saved by the Blood of the Lamb…


God be with ewe,






After God’s Own Heart Publishing

P.O. Box 2211, Woodland Park, NJ 07424