avatarSharon Hillam

Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

1239

Abstract

ring your soul. He wrote the book <a href="https://amzn.to/486ZFCI"><i>Pray, Write, Grow</i></a>, and in it, he said this:</p><blockquote id="979f"><p>If we continue to cultivate habits of stillness and quiet throughout the day, we have faith that God can meet us and will speak even at moments when we aren’t expecting to hear anything.¹</p></blockquote><div id="aa91" class="link-block"> <a href="https://medium.com/@sharon.hillam/book-review-pray-write-grow-by-ed-cyzewski-4c40d6604896"> <div> <div> <h2>Book Review: Pray, Write, Grow by Ed Cyzewski</h2> <div><h3>In this post, I review the book “Pray, Write, Grow: Cultivating Prayer and Writing Together” by contemplative author…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*3tOOT7RZxZ7q8A_W5-K53w.png)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="f99c">Do you have trouble quieting your mind? I do. But somehow, when I read this poem and others like it occasionally, my world stops — for just a moment.</p><p id="974d">I pray

Options

it helps you in this way, too. Today. Right now.</p><h1 id="d459">The Old Broken Chair</h1><p id="93dc">The dust settles easily on the old broken chair. Not a single speck is shifted by the soft breeze blowing there.</p><p id="4c7a">It was once a sapling growing to its height of endless truth, telling tales of spark and wisdom to the ears of wondering youth.</p><p id="f934">Ages past are all forgotten, taking a toll along the way, So find the treasures of the moment — bind them up and bid them stay.</p><p id="3a7e">The echoes resound quietly amid the carving of the wood speak the truth of all those memories that is finally understood.</p><p id="0504">How I thank our God in heaven that He gives us comfort there, for dust cannot settle on what’s no longer an old broken chair.</p><p id="27a8" type="7">Selah — pause and calmly think of that.</p><p id="60db">[1]: Ed Cyzewski, <a href="https://amzn.to/486ZFCI"><i>Pray, Write, Grow: Cultivating Prayer and Writing Together</i></a> (CreateSpace, 2015), 7, Kindle.</p><p id="f7e3"><b>Notice:</b> <b><i>All links to Amazon are affiliate links.</i></b> If you purchase an item using one of these links, I may receive a small commission at NO ADDITIONAL cost to you.</p></article></body>

The Old Broken Chair — a Poem

A short poem I wrote on July 1, 1980, and my thoughts on taking “time out” from a world that is spinning way too fast.

Photo by William Warby on Unsplash

This poem is very special to me. And it’s not because it’s one of the few I’ve written. No, it’s because of the deep, inner meaning. I was in a thoughtful, contemplative mood the day I wrote it. And even as I read it now, it reminds me of how powerful it is to stop. Breathe. Think. Contemplate.

Life goes nonstop for most of us. It was that way for me in 1980 when I wrote it. How much more now with all the technology and the constant chatter that swirls around us 24/7?

One of my favorite authors is Ed Cyzewski. He’s a Christian author, seminary grad, and freelance editor who writes about contemplative prayer and restoring your soul. He wrote the book Pray, Write, Grow, and in it, he said this:

If we continue to cultivate habits of stillness and quiet throughout the day, we have faith that God can meet us and will speak even at moments when we aren’t expecting to hear anything.¹

Do you have trouble quieting your mind? I do. But somehow, when I read this poem and others like it occasionally, my world stops — for just a moment.

I pray it helps you in this way, too. Today. Right now.

The Old Broken Chair

The dust settles easily on the old broken chair. Not a single speck is shifted by the soft breeze blowing there.

It was once a sapling growing to its height of endless truth, telling tales of spark and wisdom to the ears of wondering youth.

Ages past are all forgotten, taking a toll along the way, So find the treasures of the moment — bind them up and bid them stay.

The echoes resound quietly amid the carving of the wood speak the truth of all those memories that is finally understood.

How I thank our God in heaven that He gives us comfort there, for dust cannot settle on what’s no longer an old broken chair.

Selah — pause and calmly think of that.

[1]: Ed Cyzewski, Pray, Write, Grow: Cultivating Prayer and Writing Together (CreateSpace, 2015), 7, Kindle.

Notice: All links to Amazon are affiliate links. If you purchase an item using one of these links, I may receive a small commission at NO ADDITIONAL cost to you.

Good Vibes Club
Poetry
Poem
Christianity
Mindfulness
Recommended from ReadMedium