«The pebbel» a poem by Pauline Isaksen

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20. april 2018 av Eline

Pauline Isaksen shared a beautiful poem last sunday at sacrament meeting in my church. I am so happy that she gave me the permission to share it with all of you! Pauline is a woman that I look up to.

She is from England, converted to the lds church in her youth, served a mission, married a Norwegian and the list just keeps on going! When you need to get something done, you know who to call. She has been my relief society leader for many years. Then she worked with the youngest in nursery, and now with the older kids in primary. I knew she had many tallents, but had no idea that she wrote poems!  Here it is, hope you will love it as much as I did.

The Pebble

I stood and stared in joy and awe,
Inspired by the lake.
So clear, so cool, so clean, so calm,
It seemed it could not wake.

The hills beyond erect and firm,
Untouched by human hand
Reflected in the lake below
And every breath of sand.

I kneeled and plucked a tiny stone
A pebble smooth and round,
And with a careless, thoughtless cast
And barely with a sound

I threw the stone as far I could,
And watched it take its flight,
It soared then struck the lake and seemed
To disappear from sight.

But then I saw what I had done
And could not now undo,
For ripples burst upon the lake
‘Til far beyond my view.

I yearned to stop them if I could
While deep inside remorse
For actions made in selfish states
And yet with no recourse.

I thought I saw the Book of Life
And all the leaves unturned,
Of ripples yet unseen, unheard,
Of lessons yet unlearned.

How could I sin and stop the swell
Of ripples in the wake,
Just like the tiny pebble cast
Into the giant lake?

I can’t. I can’t and this I know
That ripples must be claimed,
They have a life and are results
Of sins and life defamed.

And yet there’s one, and only one
Who can restore the calm
Of lakes and hearts and lives in sin,
With his eternal balm.

My Saviour. Oh, I love those words!
There’s one who died for me.
Yes, I can live and feel again,
For he has set me free.

He paid the price, the awful price
Scarred in Gethsemane,
With bloody pores and aching heart
He paid the price—for me.

And ripples in the lake of life
Are stilled and soothed by him,
As he forgives me with his love
But not just on a whim,

I must repent, I must forgive
As I have been forgiven
And take his gift and give it life
And bring it home to heaven.

And all the ripples in the world
Will die and be forgotten,
For he who loves us evermore
And was for us begotten

Holds and heals our broken hearts,
And in his pure embrace
We are saved and born again
By his redeeming grace.

Pauline Isaksen

En tanke om “«The pebbel» a poem by Pauline Isaksen

  1. Nydelig dikt, Pauline. Mange ble overrasket over nok et talent som du har!

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