Dogwoods

This one tree is symbolic for many people of the resurrection of the Christ. A cross is in the blossom. It usually blooms in early April, around Easter.

Admittedly, I heard the dogwood story as a child. It’s memorable.

When I was in my thirties, I noticed how the dogwood trees are in the shape and color of a wedding dress or a swirling maiden. Light and beautiful.

Right now, the forest near me is full of white maidens swirling. A delight to the eye.

But what I have in my own yard is a pink dogwood.

It reminds me of a sister who died from cancer.

This sister was named Marilyn, and she taught me much about kindness. She would give her only coat to you if she thought you needed one, thought of herself as a nobody, and quickly gave second chances to everybody.

Like God, she gave mercy to the needy.

Maybe she learned that from having been one of the needy. She would not just donate money to the cause, she gave time and deep empathy to others.

My reality is that she wanted to help others.

I have seen her leak tears when listening to “Amazing Grace.”

Far from perfect, but she was trying to trust God as she understood Him.

When I saw this sister do the right thing, it touched my heart. Maybe because I knew her heartache and losses were monumental.

This is poetry month. I offer this poem to you today from my new book: WOMEN, RESILIENT WOMEN. (It’s available on Amazon in print and Kindle versions.)

“Marilyn”

The pink dogwood,

planted in memory

of a younger sister,

grows under a towering walnut.

Marilyn deserved a PhD

in how to avoid abuse.

First, she ran away

from rage; second, she fled

sexual abuse;

next, she snatched control,

then alcohol grabbed her

by the throat.

Rehabs

and twelve-step programs

helped her find lost pieces

of herself.

In the end, cancer took her.

Each spring my dogwood

swirls and flings light

while the rest of the yard

holds back brightness.

It’s Marilyn’s time to shine

with a joy so violent

it’s hard to not think of pain.

I become a mama tiger when

birds, flowers, rain

steal her show.

~ by Pat Durmon

(available at amazon.com—print and Kindle)

If you have ever been hurt, remember that the crumbs from Jesus’ table can still work miracles! Just talk to Him about what you need. But be prepared: He may ask you to believe in Him as your Lord and Savior.

Marilyn’s life was hard. She suffers no more. She is with her Lord.

Her life-story affected me. Likewise, mine affects others. Yours does too.

May God bless you with His good plan for you,

Pat Durmon

patdurmon.com

P. S. Comments and SHARES are welcome here. Thank you.

Photo by Pat Durmon of the pink dogwood tree near her home in Norfork, Arkansas, in the Spring of 2014.