Breath For A Weary Soul

By Lynn Parker

An honest Skeptic

The atmosphere for divine revelation

If you have been searching for that which you cannot even articulate, and the world’s treasure no longer captivates your attention, then you are one for which I’ve written this book.

If all the accolades that life bestows have still left a gaping hole in your ps

• Language: English
• Publisher: Worldwide Publishing Group
• Release date: Sep 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9783960289067

Lynn Parker

Lynn Cooke Parker was born and reared in the Canadian provinces of Saskatchewan and British Columbia. She came to America on a golf scholarship to a university in Texas. After spending most of her adult life as a professional golfer-both player and club professional Lynn began to express herself as a Christian author and poet under the unction of the Holy Spirit.

Book preview

Breath For A

Weary Soul

Lynn Parker

© Copyright 2016 by Lynn Parker

All rights reserved. No part of this collection may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, except in the case of brief quotations for use in articles and reviews, without written permission from the author.

This is an original work. Some of the names, characters, places and incidents are real, others are fictitious—the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons not identified specifically is entirely coincidental.

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Paperback: 978-1-68411-072-8

ISBN eBook: 978-3-96028-906-7

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Table of Contents

Divine Design

WHAT WERE THE CHANCES?

IN THE FIELD

THE KEEPER

AND REMEMBER

MY FATHER

IF NOT, THEN WHO?

CHASE HARD AFTER ME!

CURTAIN’S LIFTING

THERE WAS A CRUCIFIXION

A TOAST

Inspiration & Encouragement

A LONG TIME TO GET HERE

JOLENE’S KITCHEN

ESCAPE FROM WAS

EVERYTHING I HAD

COULD I DARE TO DREAM?

WITHOUT SPOT OR WRINKLE

A WHISTLE!

CASKETS OR COCOONS?

IT IS FINISHED!

SURRENDER OF AN ONLY SON

Reflections on The 21st Century

BABBLE ON IN BABYLON

LOCKED UP OR DEAD!

DO YOU HAVE FLOWERS?

FROM SCRATCH!

LAST ONE STANDING

IN SPITE OF…

HOWL AT THE MOON!

STAND DOWN!

SNIPERS ON THOSE HILLS

THE HEARTLAND

Divine Design

WHAT WERE THE CHANCES?

My husband sat peacefully sleeping in the easy chair in our living room. He was blissfully unaware that I was smiling at him, as he snored loudly enough, to periodically wake himself up. I marveled at the road I had taken to meet this man who now shared my life. 

As I reflected on the improbability of our meeting and the even greater unlikelihood of marital harmony that would weather life together, I saw the miracle of our union. 

I began to contemplate what the chances were that our lives would have ever intersected; the chances of our connecting, and the chances of our moving forward inextricably joined together by a promise.

Hence the impetus that fueled this musing.

What were the chances, the odds you might say,

That you’d have found me and be married today?

What were the chances we’d somehow have found,

That soul mate, that helpmate, that perfection all ‘round?

What were the chances that east could meet west,

That yin could meet yang and be happily blessed?

What were the chances after all these long years,

We’d still be together, through laughter and tears?

AND…

What were the chances that life would wield blows,

That hit us blindsided, spilling us head over toes?

What were the chances we’d have made it through strife;

Some kicking, some clawing, some holding on for dear life?

What were the chances that as each of us grew,

You’d still like me, and by luck, I’d like you?

What were the chances we’d have jostled so long,

That we finally got comfy, in fact, we belong?

What were the chances we’d ever get passed,

Those bitsy nitpickings to find peace that would last?

What were the chances that we’d see tough times through;

And gaze on in wonder a new me, and new you?

Dumb luck may claim some, coincidence few;

But add it, divide it, extrapolate too.

You must simply conclude it’s not up for debate,

Our marriage is more than mere karma or fate.

YOU SEE…

Mathematically speaking, chance couldn’t explain

Why we didn’t turn tail at the first sign of rain.

My guess is it isn’t by luck we still stand,

But by grace, and the mercy of the Master’s right hand!

What were the chances He’d have brought us safe through;

And molded and stretched us, and transformed us too?

It couldn’t have been by chance