I CAN DO ALL THINGS

Morning, noon, and night

heading up and down three flights

with an assurance everything is

going to be alright

for this eight year old boy

twenty days after brain surgery,

going from thinking I wouldn’t

make it out of there,

to actually coming out on the

other side -

going down the steps was a breeze

facing this charge has become

my new normal - but not for long.

Suffice it to say

not so sure how I’d accomplish

such a feat,

whereas Momma was always

confident and so sure

she’d say, say it out loud and

repeat after me,

I can do all things -

still belting out instructions

and speaking.

While I was out of breath

climbing three flights of stairs,

one step at a time -

taking the first step I thought

I’d pass out but my Momma’s

strength helped me up and

resurrected my essence

from the inside out.

Her recall elevated

not just me but also her,

so much so she’d say

it was Jesus -

that kept us going.

I knew it was her,

she looked up to the clouds

and I kept my eyes

on her. Before I knew it again

she’d say, say it loud

“I can do all things through

Christ” -

it was like a record playing

that didn’t skip a beat.

Only I was getting stronger

and stronger,

before I knew it I was

stronger and more confident,

Momma kept saying

it was Jesus and all I saw,

she was Wonder Woman to me;

I just kept my eyes on her

she was all I could see.

It wasn’t just my illness

seemingly taking over.

Momma was also shouldering

the painful truth of divorce,

having many friends

whose parents were broken apart

by the same disease,

now it’s my turn to drink

the cup of parents dividing it all.

Making it make sense

was not my job,

the only One

to explain this massive hurt

was God alone.

They seem to be great together -

but what do I know,

I was only eight going on nine.

I just knew I really loved

my family together.

It seemed my illness caused it all.

Momma kept trying

to pitch the ball to me

hoping I’d believe

my illness was not my fault,

nor the cause of

our parents break-up.

She said it was two

people not getting along

and had nothing to do

with me nor my brothers.

I wanted to believe her

but all I knew Momma was there

and Daddy was not,

She’d say he’d be here if he could.

She’d say repeat after me

out loud - this time I beat

her to the punch,

saying it all the way through -

I can do all things through Christ

who strengthens me.

She was so surprised

I said it by myself.

Making it to the top

of the stairs also by myself.

She is my hero although

she’d never say those words,

who’ll be there for Momma?

I am sure it’s God,

why else was she always

looking to Heaven!