Apples Don'T Fall Far From The Tree - Poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
I want to tell you of my second Love,
Of a churchs' impact from heaven above!
I'd grown up in such a small church.
Yet small groups can make for gossip, and worse.
Not so with Shiloh; it was heaven on earth...!
This icon of community flair was 'golden mirth.'
'Cause for too many years I'd been handicapped;
Unfortunately, having wed a controlling rat.
Unworthy, I felt as if in a deep-dark pit.
Hardly would I look one in the eyes-, as I'd sit.
Though Shiloh's heart and doors were always open,
With all people-types whose hearts were broken.
Never had I been in a hospital that was a church.
Pure-love poured forth from this people's search.
Out of 2,000 members, one hundred 'I fondly knew, '
Many of us would sit, visit, and have coffee too!
You could hear the sounds of prayer down the hall...
Sometimes there was dancing, and we had a ball...!
There, an amphitheatre of seats 'led to the front.'
When Pastor preached, some thought her too blunt.
Even-though I knew 'tales of her compassion's action, '
With one's greatest need- came her love's reaction.
Sleeping on her office's couch, in case of distress.
She mothered us all, in humility and 'sweet zest.'
So all pitched in and made her a special quilt.
Each had a patch of their signature for it built.
Jewel, my black beauty friend, told me her tale-,
Thinking of suicide, 'Violet ran after her trail-! '
Catching her around the block, with-a-loving hug.
No one, at this church, was sweeping under the rug.
Women made bread, for the 'coffee house' next door.
Their singing groups rocked-the-socks off the floor!
You could see Shiloh believers all around town,
Wisdom's principles were of a prototype laid down.
It was great just to see them in the market places,
Healing light-&-love poured-forth from their faces!
Such longing I still have, to see my Pastoral mom,
Indubitably, her prayers were 'to keep me strong.'
Though, before any churches, she married Mr. Right.
Later her David was born before tragedy's night.
A car accident took her beloved husband home...
For the year she was motionless, she felt so alone.
Her baby was spared, leaving her totally paralysed.
She was only-17, for that year she'd much to realize.
Miraculously, God healed her and gave her a church.
Maybe she's the 1st. pastor to do so after a birth!
With 25-revival churches, in all; she was going strong.
Father God has truly 'blessed and kept her from wrong.'
The Lord God, strong, almighty is in the midst of them.
Training victorious warriors 'waging war against sin! '
So believers went in with peace- and come out with joy!
This place was 'so serene' there was no-need to be coy.
Restoration is the message- for God restores all things.
I was once like a cripple, now I can stand and sing!
God's Dunamis power for wounded Pigeons, now like Doves,
Creates longing in me still, for such fellowship of love.
Such fond memories linger- as 'I miss her still...'
Bless you, dear Violet, for caring; when I had no will.
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