"His creation creates and He watches..."

CREATIONS

She slaps a mound of gray-brown clay

onto the wheel and squeezes

cool muddy water over it

from a soft silk sponge—

kicks the concrete foot-wheel

to get it started. Kicks again, again

building momentum,

setting the top wheel turning

faster, faster.

She bears down and down

with practiced pressure

feeling the fine grit grog

feeling the cool wet earth

oozing, oozing

through her slender fingers.

Kicking, kicking, turning, turning

pressing, pressing. She feels

the resistant clay complying—

moving triumphantly

toward center.

At the precise moment of true center

the potter, synchronous

with her medium, pushes

her thumbs into the mound

and opens this extension of her being.

She deftly draws up its sides

into smooth, graceful contours

banded with concentric rings

imprinted by her fingertips—

Kicking, kicking, turning, turning

forming, forming. Vessel

revolving, evolving

sleek and symmetrical.

The potter draws in the neck

angles the rim with a metal rib

and softens it with her fingers.

She stops kicking.

The wheel’s RPMs gradually diminish.

With a wire, she cuts her creation

from the wheel and lifts it

onto a plaster bat to dry.

Birthing complete, she rests—

Finishing work begins tomorrow

All her days

keen, unseen hands

have been bearing down upon the potter—

centering, turning, opening

smoothing, shaping, drawing her upward

drawing her deftly

into unimagined forms.

He beholds what she is becoming;

He sees that it is good.

Cutting his vessel free, He rests.

His creation creates

and He watches—

She turns her vessel upside down

upon the wheel and

confidently trims the base

She places it in a kiln

where, by fire

it slowly develops fragile strength.

She glazes it richly and fires it again.

It emerges—

Beautiful. Worthy. Full of grace.

A vessel of honor for His use.

Maude Carolan Pych

For years I had an old manual kick wheel and a kiln in my basement. I enjoyed creating beautiful clay vessels. The Lord is the Master Potter. He created me. I am one of His earthen vessels. It is my heart's desire to always be a vessel of honor for His use.

WOW! "The Harbinger" is already #23 on the NY Times Best Seller List!!!

Congratulations to my pastor, the author, Jonathan Cahn. To order his book, go to: Amazon.com.




...and now, I'd like to share one of my poems with you:

AT LAUDS

We gather for Lauds

in the old convent chapel

across from the Episcopalian

retreat house in Mendham

as much to worship

as observe

nuns singing

in plainsong

from the Psalter

In the midst

of their soft


melodic chants

Petie pads in

on all fours

black and white

as their habits—

tail wagging

tags jingling

claws clicking

like cleats

against red brick

Petie traipses

from sister to sister

including the elderly one

hunched over

in her wheelchair

From each

he receives pats

or nuzzles

or a scratch

behind his ears

then he wanders

up front

by the altar

lays bare belly

against cool brick

and naps

Maude Carolan

This was written several years ago at an intensive poetry retreat weekend in Mendham, New Jersey.

"The Harbinger" by Jonathan Cahn

Greetings Visitor…

Today, before I present a new poem to you, I would like to tell you about an important book my pastor has written that is getting a lot of attention. The book is The Harbinger, by Jonathan Cahn.

Jonathan is pastor/rabbi of Beth Israel Messianic Center/The Jerusalem Center, Wayne, New Jersey, perhaps the largest Messianic congregation in the world. I have sat under his teaching for twenty-five years and can attest to his character. An excellent teacher, Jonathan is also a living example of what he preaches, and his messages are known for their prophetic significance as well as their revelations of deep mysteries of God’s Word.

My husband and I have been passing the book back and forth, captivated by the unfolding of mysteries revealed in a verse found in the Book of Isaiah that points to 9/11, the collapse of the global economy and America’s future. In my opinion, next to The Bible, The Harbinger is definitely the most important book to read today. It’s hard to put down, and I concur with what it says on the back cover, “Though it sounds like the plot of a Hollywood thriller—it’s real.”

We believe this book is so important and timely we have purchased several copies to give to family and friends. Check it out at Amazon.com.

...and now, a poem:

WHAT IS TRUTH?

John 18:38

I first learned

the importance of truth

at my mother’s knee

My children

learned it at mine

Life has taught me

truth is truth, even

if no one believes it

if no one wants to believe it

if every man is a liar

What’s true is true, even

if millions is spent

to disprove it

if it’s argued against

lobbied against

debated against

railed against

voted against

legislated against

Truth Is

absolute—

even if it’s watered down

to make it acceptable

skirted around

to soften its appeal                         

lubed with oil

so it goes down

nice and easy

sugar coated

to make it palatable

even if it looks

soooo, soooo good

Truth is Truth

whether it’s popular

or unpopular

…even

in the face

of persecution

Pilate asked,

What is truth?

The Psalmist wrote,

The sum of God’s word

is truth

Jesus said,

I Am the Truth

He also said,

Everyone on the side

of truth

listens to Me

I believe the supreme

Truth is a Man

and His unchanging Word

…even though           

He be crucified

Jesus—

Salvation Truth

Resurrection Truth                                                                                             

Living Truth

Truth—

I can stand up for

Maude Carolan Pych

"The Three Kings" by Longfellow

THE GIFT BEARERS

Cosmic wonders, whats and whys

whirl in the East

as a singular mysterious luminary

beckons in the heavens

Is it brighter than the other stars?

Does it pulsate? Does it bounce?

Does it shoot across the sky

like a flame-tailed comet?

Does its lustrous splendor

rival the glow of the moon?

Gentile magi who study stars and Scripture

see it and curiously mount their camels

to follow it across the desert. But, why?

They say they are seeking

the King of the Jews. Why would they?

They say they want to worship Him

Why Him?

What do they know that the High Priest

the Pharisees, Sadducees

and all the Jews of Jerusalem

who are awaiting the coming of Messiah

do not comprehend?

King Herod summons them, diabolically

Feigns sincere interest in their mission

urges them to return with details

so he, too, may worship the King

A sinister plot forms in his evil mind

for even he knows…

there is something about that star…

Continuing on

the irresistible starlight shines ahead

until it shimmers above a humble house

in the village of Bethlehem

It stops, still…absolutely still

then the magi realize they are at

destiny's door

They knock

and are welcomed, when

Suddenly

their eyes behold

a Boy Child

and their hearts leap!!!

and whether it makes sense or not

(whether any of this makes sense or not)

the magi, in rich array

fall prostrate

on the earthen floor

and fill the little house

with Hallelujahs!!!

They draw from their saddlebags, treasures…

          Gold…for surely this little family can use it

          Myrrh…fragrant foreshadow of suffering

          Frankincense…for a sensing in the depths

          of their God-given wisdom

          of a significant anointing

          somewhere in time

Mission complete

the gift bearers mount their camels

and still attentive to God's spirit

(this time in a dream)

do not return to Herod

The magi…

diligent seekers who found

Treasure

infinitely more valuable

than the precious gifts they bore

Maude Carolan Pych

This poem is included in From My Heart to Yours at Christmas...Cookies & Poems. Ordering information is given at the end of the blog.

It's Time to Gather Around the Creche...

 

 

THE CRECHE

I was a bride of twenty in the mid-sixties

decorating my home creatively and economically

by attending ceramic classes Tuesday evenings

in Bette Carozza's basement

We sat round the table and coffee cups

cleaning greenware, applying

underglazes and overglazes

talking girl talk all the while

We made cookie dishes and ashtrays

glossy green Christmas trees with snowy branches

fitted with tiny colored lights

We made rooster lamps, pitchers and bowls

piggy banks and tall German beer steins

The most ambitious of us

made chess pieces and Nativity figures

I began working on my Nativity set in 1965

took a few months off after Mom died

and picked up the last pieces

hot from Bette's old electric kiln

on Christmas Eve Day, 1966

How well I recall carefully cleaning

the fragile greenware with a sharp tool

till the seams were perfectly smooth

sanding and sponging tiny bumps

and filling pit holes

Wanting to be as authentic as possible

I applied three coats of sky blue to Mary's robe

and ruddy brown to Joseph's

Jesus' features were less sharp

than the other figures

having been cast from a mold

that had been poured too many times

I unknowingly made the flesh tones far too pale

for Middle Easterners

The magi and their regal camels

were embellished with accents of pure gold

and I glued tiny rhinestones

onto their gift offerings

even though it's likely

the wisemen didn't visit the Christ Child

until months after He was born

The shepherds' garb were given earth tones

and a staff was provided for one of them

fashioned from a birch twig

I dabbed white froth onto the lambs' coats

and gave the cow big brown patches

making it a Guernsey

a breed not likely to have grazed

the fields of Bethlehem

The long eared donkey was painted gray

Bette's husband, ChiChi

built a fine wooden crèche

with a place on top

to hang the golden haired angel

who flourished a banner proclaiming

"Gloria in Excelsus Deo"

I installed a music box

which played "Adeste Fidelis"

and a little light bulb

and bought a bag of sweet straw

from Woolworth's

For more than thirty-five Christmases

I've been unpacking the big cardboard box

unwrapping the fragile figures from newspaper

and displaying them throughout the season.

Some years, when the children were young

Jesus wasn't placed in the manger

until Christmas Eve

then we all sang, "Happy Birthday"

The angel now has a chipped wing

and the Guernsey's missing a horn

but Jesus still lies sweetly in His crib

apparently not minding whether or not

I managed to get every jot and tittle

of His manger scene historically correct

He just lies sweetly there

year after year

reminding us

that significant night

long, long ago

is a forever celebration

Maude Carolan

This poem was written in 2001, therefore the Nativity figures have been prominently displayed in our home for forty-five Christmases.

Introducing "It's All About...THE LAMB" Maude's quarterly inspirational poetry letter...

December 15, 2011

After God’s Own Heart Publishing presents…

Vol. 14 Issue 4

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…

SOMETHING NEW: COME VISIT MY POETRY BLOG…

In October, at the encouragement of fellow members of the North Jersey Christian Writers Group (NJCWG), I began posting inspirational poetry online, to a blog. The word blog actually means web log; it’s a type of website.

One of NJCWG’s experienced bloggers, Susan Panzica (eternitycafe.blogspot.com), generously shared what she knows at an informal workshop held at a local Starbuck’s, one Saturday morning. Voila! After much trial and error and many communications with Susan, I’m creating a new blog post each week. It’s creative, fun and an up-to-date way of telling others the good news about Our Wonderful Savior.

Check it out and leave a comment. I’m hoping to draw readers and increase subscribers. Go to: maudespoems.blogspot.com.

IT'S COOKIES & POEMS TIME…

It’s that time of year…The hand-painted ceramic manger scene is prominently displayed on the old pine hutch, the Norwegian Pecan Sugar Cookies, Pfeffernuesse and Anise Biscotti are baked and stored in big red tins and I’m trying to figure out when the rest of the cookies will be baked and when there’ll be time to wrap presents. My 2011 Christmas poem, Mary & Elizabeth, has been artfully arranged on holiday paper and mailed to family and friends with much love and joy. I have Jesus on my mind…It’s Merry Christmastime!

My nearly eight year old grandson sent me his first ever email containing his very first poem, a haiku. He decorated it with clipart of Jesus, an angel and a crèche. It certainly warmed my heart. I’d like to share it with you:

HAIKU

Jesus is the best.

God gives us His son, Jesus.

Santa gives us gifts.

Logan Muniz

2nd grade

FEATURED POET: ANN CREDIFORD

Ann is a long-standing member of NJCWG. She composes poetry and writes and charmingly illustrates stories for children and adolescents.

I asked Ann to provide a brief testimony. She said, "I was a secular humanist until middle-aged. Then I was led to the Lord by a very special pastor. This happened after our two teenage daughters started attending a Bible church. Concerned about that, I started attending with them, to check out the church. After many, many salvation messages, finally I believed. Now I attend an Assembly of God church in Wanaque, NJ. In addition to our daughters, we have four grandchildren in Rockland County, New York."

The title of Ann’s poem is The Christmas Deed. It tells of an unexpected act of kindness that occurred in her neighborhood during a raging snowstorm, last Christmas.

I’ll also include my new poem, Mary & Elizabeth.

+++ THE POEMS FOLLOW +++

THE CHRISTMAS DEED

Christmas day began with thunder and rain.

Then hail fell from the sky.

When a layer of ice covered the road,

a snowy mist began.

By midday, snow drifted down like feathers.

It accumulated on the ground

and clung to the westward side of trees.

All day the wind was strong.

Would-be travelers stayed home

and admired God’s great white gift.

They opened presents, feasted

and wished one another well.

As evening fell, candles flickered,

mechanical reindeer nodded their heads,

and plastic puff snowmen

lifted high their candy canes.

The temperature dropped and

the wind and snow continued.

Doors were tightly closed

and homes were warm and dry.

A young man remembered his older neighbors.

He kissed his wife and son goodnight,

went out, started the snow blower,

and crossed the road to their home.

In the dark of the night he worked almost silently,

the snow and wind covered the sound.

Face to the wind, back to the wind,

he dug out two cars and cleared a path to the doorway,

a Christmas deed done in the spirit of Christ.

He left for work the next morning at five,

and a prayer went with him from the woman across the way.

She’d pulled aside the lace curtain and seen him working.

With a grateful heart she asked God to bless his day.

Ann Crediford

© 2011

MARY & ELIZABETH

A lovely young virgin

from Nazareth, was roused

by the flapping of wings

a manshape in moonbeams

and a perplexing salutation:

Greetings, favored one!

The Lord is with you

It was Gabriel

an angel sent by God

who told Mary she would conceive

and bear a boy child, Jesus—

the Son of the Most High

He spoke of the Holy Spirit

and overshadowing

and of her relative, Elizabeth

who though barren

conceived in her old age—

for nothing is impossible with God

Awestruck, trembling

needing to tell someone

who did Mary go to first?

Her mother? Father?

How would they receive such news?

Or did she run to her betrothed, Joseph

expecting him to understand?

Oh, he wanted to understand

wanted to believe, but

it was unbelievable, preposterous

So, stunned, disappointed

feeling utterly deceived, Joseph

contemplated quietly sending her away

Then Mary remembered the angel

had spoken of her dear cousin, Elizabeth—

Is that why Mary hurried off

on a brave trek to the hills of Hebron…alone?

Of course, it had to be Elizabeth

aged, wise, expecting

and now acquainted, herself, with miracles

When Mary arrived at the home

of Zacharias and Elizabeth

Elizabeth’s unborn baby

leapt for joy! in her womb

and in a whirl of wondrous ecstasy

Elizabeth knew of Mary’s pregnancy

before being told

…then a psalm-like lilt of praise

sprang from Mary’s lips

extolling the great things

the Mighty One had done for her

Tender were the next three months

as the household awaited Elizabeth’s travail

(and the birth of John, the baptizer)

The women prepared their layettes

folded the swaddling clothes

shared their magnanimous miracles

and confided maternal aspirations

as their bellies swelled

…and I like to think

Joseph ran all the way to Hebron

one day expressly to announce

his own angelic vision in a dream—

that he was to take Mary as his wife

that they would await

the miraculous birth of Jesus—together

Maude Carolan Pych

© 2011

Dear Subscriber,

Merry Christmas & Happy Hanukkah!

It’s time to celebrate these glorious festivals of Light…

and have a blessed New Year…

Maude

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

MAUDE’S CHAPBOOKS…Ordering Information:

From My Heart to Yours at Christmas…Cookies & Poems: 32 pages, $7.00*

The Widow’s Song: 47 pages, $8.00*

Mail a check made out to Maude Carolan Pych to the P.O. Box below.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Permission to forward or copy is automatic and encouraged as long as credit is given.

Comments are welcome and appreciated.

After God’s Own Heart Publishing

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

thelamb777@optimum.net

maudespoems.blogspot.com

Thinking about the shepherds on the night of the Holy Birth...

THE SHEPHERDS

Shepherds recline around the fire

Their long day’s work is done

The air is crisp, the sky is clear

they watch the setting sun

The sheep that grazed the fields by day

now safely sleep nearby

Men each take night-watch turns

to watch for wolves and foxes, sly

They eat some fish, some barley bread

drink water from the well

draw woolen blankets ‘round them, snug

they laugh and stories tell                           

Suddenly the calm is stirred

by singing in the sky

The shepherds lift their drowsy heads

What’s happening and why?

They can’t believe their ears and eyes

for what they hear and see…

a throng of shining faces, wings

snow white and fluttery!

The rugged shepherds tremble

The angels chant, “Do not fear…

We bring you tidings of great joy

all people need to hear

For unto you is born this day

in little Bethlehem—

swaddled in a manger, Christ

The Savior of all men!

Glory to God in the highest!”

sweet angel voices sing

“Peace on earth, goodwill to men”

They proclaim the newborn King!     

As the angels take their leave

the men vow in the morn

they’ll go to Bethlehem and seek

The Christ, the newly born

So with the rising of the sun

each with his staff and rod

the shepherds with their sheep set off…

Their quest, the Lamb of God

Arriving at the humble place

the angels sang about

they enter with resounding praise

and hallelujah shouts!

As the shepherds kneel, adoring

a spotless wooly lamb

approaches the lowly manger

and gently nuzzles the I Am

Maude Carolan Pych

This is another selection from my little Christmas chapbook, From My Heart to Yours at Christmas…Cookies & Poems.