With Calendar In Hand

While clutched in breathless wonder,
two prayerful cries are voiced.
With tear-stained cheeks, their strength unfolds;
their courage and hope are poised.

Their unborn child, so cherished;
each heart-beat heard, a joy.
Comfort found in hearing,
a healthy girl or boy.

With calendar in hand,
days are counted into weeks.
Each small success, a victory,
turns valleys into peaks.

Oft times, a lesson is hidden,
and we think it isn’t there;
But God, always creates a blessing,
from the trials that we bear.


(c) P. Arrel Tidwell, RN All Rights Reserved

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