A recent conversation was the catalyst of inspiration for another poem.
What happens when our role models let us down? What happens when we grow up and discover that “super heroes” don’t exist, and things aren’t as good as they first seemed?
I think everyone has at least one point in their lives when they are personally slapped with this reality. As I contemplated, I decided we have two options: We can either allow ourselves to become disillusioned and cynical, or we can realize that every human, including ourselves, is inherently flawed and in need of a Savior. How blessed are we to have His grace made freely available to us!
“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.” -Romans 3:23&24
Oh for the days when I was young and heroes were still real,
And gallant knights still dashed away in shining suits of steel,
When I viewed the world through child eyes and all seemed fair and right,
While my heart was full of confidence and belief burned ever bright.
How did I lose this rosy lens through once the world I saw?
When I only noticed noble deeds, without their twist or flaw.
Why has my champion fallen from his pedestal on high,
And left me disillusioned and my admiration dry?
T’would be simpler, I should think, if from youth we never grew.
Faith would be an easy thing if we never knew,
How swiftly mighty warriors to temptation weakly yield,
And those we marked as soldiers brave flee like cowards from the field.
The harshest teacher, Experience, has stripped my naiveté,
And changed my sunny morning into an afternoon of gray.
Those that once I trusted, whose ways I thought the best,
Now the simple act of honoring has itself become a test.
But hear a Voice that calls to me, “Trust not in princes that can’t save!”
“In mortal men who soon depart and return back to the grave.”
“Believe instead in the Holy One Whose goodness faileth never,”
“And Whose faithfulness will reign on high, Whose mercies last forever.”
Now, perhaps, I start to see, how this pain He works for good,
For I also am a sinner and often fail more than I should.
And this truth that holds for tarnished knights holds just the same for me,
Placed beside my wretchedness, the more amazing His grace will be.
-Michaela Richmond, “The Farming Daughter”
Monday, October 24, 2016
9 thoughts on “Tarnished Knights”
I absolutely love that one!
Thanks Aunt Tammy!
This is so beautiful, Mike!!!
Thank you Em 🙂
Hi there Michaela, Did you write this? Aunt Carole
Hi Aunt Carole! Every word 🙂
Painful and beautiful…:`)
Thank you Stewart! I need to get back into poetry writing, this is the first one in awhile.
Knowing you, this couldn’t have been an easy poem to create. Still it’s your truth — I’m confident, though, there’s another in you that will celebrate the brighter side of life as achingly beautiful as you paint this portrait. Tim Allan