The Front Porch Swing

Straight from the Heart

The Front Porch

There’s nothing special about it at all. Sometimes it squeaks. Sometimes it houses wasps and hornets. Several times It’s even crashed to the porch with me in it! Yet, the old, country swing, with its rusty chains and layers of paint, holds a treasure chest of memories. It’s where I take my morning coffee, listen to the birds, and meditate. It’s where I talk to God, laugh and cry, and reminisce. But, my fondest memories are swinging with my grandchildren, talking and laughing, imagining ourselves soaring high above the clouds on Mrs. Eagle’s feathered back. At nightfall we’d gaze into the starry sky, listen to the frogs, and watch fireflies. When I’d finally oblige them with a scary story, they’d jump off the swing and scurry into the house.

My oldest grandchild, Brandon, now twenty-two, wrote me this beautiful poem, On the Front Porch, Swingin’. I thank God for reminding…

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Author: Sandi Staton

So, I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to describe myself to you, and these are the words jumping up and down in my heart: I'm just a simple human being living in a complicated, messed-up world. I speak my mind. I love hard. My feelings run deep. When push comes to shove, I stand my ground. Sometimes I push back. Sometimes I walk away. I've surfed the crashing waves of life that threatened to destroy me only to make me stronger. I bear the scars of emotional rape, sadness, and depression. I've walked the golden streets of churches and religion only to be disappointed time and time again. And as a result, it's taken me seventy-five years to get where I'm sitting today; a sinner saved by grace through the blood of Jesus Christ. I fell at the cross. I repented of my sins, and Jesus saved and washed me clean. I still fall flat on my face. I still get dirty as a pig in a mudhole. And Jesus still picks me up, dries my tears, forgives me again and again, and continues walking close beside me. No one has ever loved me like that. And no one ever will.

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He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. ~ Psalm 147:3

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