Pain Like a Mountain
Poems Forged from Nights of Pain
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I prayed for you today. I prayed for you each morning, At the dawning of each new day. I just know this day was different, From all the other days. I felt God's hand upon my shoulder, His voice spoke to my mind. I heard his answer in my heart, When he said: My dear, dear child, I heard your prayers each day, Both spoken and unspoken, I even weep along with you. And dried your falling tears. Your prayers were for your children, Who have wandered from the fold, You did not asked for wealth, Gold or precious stones. You did not asked for any of those, For the ones you love. You did not asked me to bless them, With bright new fancy cars. Or to give them boats that glides, Gracefully o'er the waves. You did not ask me to give them mansions, With gates of gold high upon the hills. Though you knew I have the power, To grant them all of these. Each morning you earnestly asked me, To stop by each child's home. And knock upon the doors. of each one's heart. You asked me to just keep knocking, Until someone let me in. You asked me to send angels, To surround their homes each day. To guide them when they are going out, And when they are coming in. You asked me to give them wisdom, And an understanding heart. That only heaven can bestow. I saw the tears streamed. Down your face each morning. As you pleaded with me To save their souls from hell. That is all you asked of me. For them, each day, Knowing that is the greatest gift, I could impart to them. I honored prayers of mothers. And praying fathers too. The ones who sincerely prayed, And patiently wait on me. Now, in answer to your prayers, I am knocking at each heart's doors. I will never leave, Until someone let me in, Or tell me to go away. Yet still I will wait in patience, for an exceedingly long time. I do hope they will hear me knocking. And let me in today. Your prayers will be answered. Your tears will bear many fruits. I will give you all. A home with me, someday. So just keep on praying, While I keep on knocking on their hearts. Prayer is the key in the hands of faith, It can open any heart's doors, If you knock in faith., Florence B. Grant 03/ 19/ 2014
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About the Book
Sitting on my porch one evening, At the setting of the sun: I reflected on my day: and the thought Of facing, another night of pain. As I reflected: My eyes were suddenly drawn to a mountain. I never really took notice of before: Florence Grant knows that no matter how dark our nights, God speaks to us through our pain and inspires us, no matter our age, the place, or time in our lives. All we have to do is listen to that still, small voice inside. In a debut compilation of inspirational poems, Grant shares reflections intended to lift up anyone enduring pain or sleepless nights, feeling down or struggling to find their way, or seeking new love or lost love. Grant explores diverse topics such as the rare beauty found in nature, the memories of yesteryear, the puzzle of life, membership on heaven’s roll, the day Simon met Jesus, and much more that includes touching lyrical messages for discouraged pastors and praying parents. Pain Like a Mountain is a volume of inspirational poems that leads believers down a spiritual path into one woman’s heart as she reflects on life, death, love, and faith.
About the Author
Florence B. Grant is a retired healthcare worker who worked in her field for over two decades. In 1999, she was diagnosed with a debilitating autoimmune disease that prompted her to begin writing poems in an effort to cope. Florence is married with four adult sons. Pain Like a Mountain is her first collection of poetry.