^{Stripped and naked was I, following the storm and tornado.}                      

               ^{Surrounding ground scrubbed to dust.}

^{Limbs and leaves torn from my trunk}

               ^{Sad and broken my body appeared}

^{This was not the future}

               ^{It was the present}

^AND…

               ^{It matters.}

^{Though not as tall as I used to be,}

               ^{Neither are the houses on this sacred ground.}

^{Isn’t it curious how the foundations still exist?}

               ^{And how my roots are firmly planted}

               ^{Stretched but not severed.}

^{A new shape is forged by the horrific storm}

               ^{I (we) will never be the same.}

^{Gasping at the view, it is difficult to believe}

               ^{That any blessings are contained}

               ^{Within this time of shock and grief.}

^BUT…

               ^{They are.}

^{It may take some time to see this truth}

               ^{But they are here, even in this stark chaos of reality,}

               ^{Unveiled by the daylight.}

^{Time is passing, debris is removed.}

^{The tools and sounds of recovery surround me.}

               ^{Like the beating of a heart, the hammer pounds.}

^{The saw’s shrill buzz expresses excitement.}

^{Bulldozers gone, their work complete.}

               ^{Plowing and scraping, recovering avenues and space.}

^{Space for new things to happen – new things to grow.}

^{I stand firm in this soil that was given,}

               ^{My eyes have seen much}

               ^{My body was ravaged.}

^{But, still l stand.}

               ^{New life is appearing. Fresh foliage is proof!}

                                                               ^{God is making all things new!}

Martha Jacobson

Breast Cancer Survivor

Spiritual Ministries Institute Board Member