THE GIFT FROM LIDIA

Isaiah 53

King James Version (KJV)

53 Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?

² For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.
³ He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
⁴ Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
⁵ But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.
⁶ All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.
⁷ He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.
⁸ He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.
⁹ And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.
¹⁰ Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
¹¹ He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.
¹² Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death: and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

Summing up summer

 
Alone

When the mind is barren

When joy is no more

And memories sit inside

By empty, forgotten nests, -

When sorrow by longing grows

And pleads and kneels

When chance of fear meets

Which sinks all down

Into dark depths of weeping and woe

And breaks the last trembling bridge

Then stay with me, then stay with me,

Then pray for me, then pray for me

For faith, faith, faith!

Norwegian author Olav Aukrust 

Translated by Serina Ljung 

Life has been a rough ride this summer, mostly due to illness among everybody in my little universe, my close five finger family. 

When the nights are long and the pillow feels like a stone, too many sad thoughts are building nest in my head. I asked Serina to translate one of my many favorite poems. The picture is from our garden. I've made feet of stone on thrift wood, one for my mother and one for Serina.