Tags: Carnival of Genealogy, Easter, poetry, religion, spiritual walk
Lord, Do You Hear?
Lord, I spend my days and nights in tears,
The pain is so unbearable.
The darkness ushers in my fears.
Lord, I cry to You and cry.
I try to listen but hear no answers to my why.
Lord – Lord – do You hear?
Lord – Lord – do You hear?
Twas then in silence You answered,
Twas then my tears were dried.
It was the touch of an angel’s wing
That my wet cheek brushed.
“Child – My Child – of course I heard.”
Lord – Lord – is that You?
Twas then in silence You came to me.
Twas then You gave a vision to see.
A crown of thorns, a spear thrust deep.
A crumpled body taken off a cross in a heap.
An empty tomb – dark yet never bleak.
For the sun shown brightly,
A warmth enveloped me so tightly.
“Yes, child, I am here –
I heard your cries those years ago –
And now I’m here My Unending Love to show.
Give Me your pain – your agony – and your fear –
I am the Rose of Sharon,
The Perfect One, Your Healer, the Comforter –
I am because I was, and evermore will be.
I am the King of Kings, and Lord of Hosts,
I am the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
For now and all eternity.”
Now I no longer cry both day and night,
The time is spent in precious praise.
My life is now so joyous and so bright.
I have the Perfect Peace, the Joy of Joy,
He filled my heart, He saved my life,
He’s given me eternity to see.
He is the Son of God, King of Kings,
Yes, the Lord of Lords,
And Mary’s sweet Baby.
©2009 Bonnie Jean DiCrocco
Tags: Easter, famiglia, family, Italy, Itri, love of family, memories, photographs, religion, traditions
Easter 1957 – There I am on left wearing a dress I still remember because I loved it so much – blue and white soft stripes!
Typical Easter fare sold in stores in Italy – huge chocolate eggs wrapped in glossy foil colors – the eggs are hollow and filled with small toys!
Easter Sunday passagiata in Sperlonga
Easter flowers for Padre Pio, Itri, Italy
Easter Egg Hunt, Melbourne
Tags: blessings, Christ, Easter, famiglia, Italy, joy, memories, religion, spiritual walk, Tarquinia
This picture hangs on the hallway wall of my sister-in-law’s home. It is a depiction of a wonderful wood carved statue that resides in Tarquinia. Each Easter the town’s people and those from surrounding areas crowd into the old streets to herald the procession of this statue being carried up and down and around the steep cobblestone streets in adoration of the Risen Christ.
Town officials, the carabinieri, and townsfolk alike are not ashamed to show their praise for Him, none of the politically correctness scenarios hold them back. Some of the story of the statue is lost to me in translation but the story basically is that the town commissioned this beautiful statue of the Risen and Triumphant Christ. When completed, the statue was so magnificent that no one wanted the artist to ever again create such a masterpiece for anyone else. Here the story of the beauty of Easter is lost to me – the town blinded the artist so he was unable to see to create anything else! No one is sure how much legend and myth is mingled with fact in this story but one fact is for sure. The statue is magnificent and the town is devoted to it.
I don’t mean to sound as if I find this silly or foolish in any way. Rather I find it a testament to the townsfolk that in spite of a less than Christian-like beginning to the acquisition of the statue, they stand proudly and in joy and in sorrow for all that it means to them to celebrate Easter. In the midst of this there is not a carnival or other foolish trappings of a street party going on. The complete festival is a parade to showcase this staute, a reminder to the faithful of the true meaning of Easter. They have not forgotten but instead choose to honor Him openly joyously for al the world to see and partake with them. What inspires me even more is the total joy they worship with – not of fear or habit or sorrow – but complete unabashed joy at the Spirit of the Day – they rejoice in the Risen Christ and all that His Triumph signifies for all men. They have celebrated year after year for a century or more now, in good times and bad, war and peace, economic upturns and depressions, in feast and famine. What has happened to us here in a land that has been so mightily blessed, that we have lost that joy, that zeal? May our hearts return once again to that place of joy in Him as give thanks and praise for His Triumphant Resurrection.