"Imp my wing" reminds me of the Isaiah 40:31 passage: "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles", which I recently used in my post on Corvid birds. To know that use of imp, Herbert must have had some knowledge of birds - I wonder if he was a birdwatcher in his little country parish.
Praying, Karen. Earlier this year I was having a hard time swallowing and for weeks at a time I was always a bit hungry because I couldn't get enough food down. It got worse the more tired I was and it could be quite painful. All studies showed nothing but a little inflammation. I am currently on medication to reduce acid reflux, and so far, the problem hasn't gotten as bad as it was.
I've just come across this poem again, second time this week, in the book Word Made Fresh by Abram Van Engen and the line 'Most thinne' struck me as possibly playing a dual role - if one n was dropped it would read 'most thine'. Scanned quickly it almost reads that way. When we are most thinne are we also, in fact, 'most thine', most held in the safest of arms and the surest of loves? Experience may well suggest, if not immediately then in retrospect, that the answer is a blessed, astonished Yes.
George Herbert has always been a favorite of mine - not only for his skill but because of the professor who taught me (Dr. Christian Weintz). Dr. Weintz’s calm manner drew me in as he would read and lecture. Your poignant post about your mother reminded me of my mother’s passing. She, too, was basically starving due to dementia. The medical staff explained that her brain was not allowing the calories she was consuming to be processed properly. She was “[d]ecaying more and more.” And so are we. May God give you and your family comfort during this difficult time, and may our Savior return soon.
These reflections always get the tears going. That’s a good thing. I love the line in the poem you mentioned about imping our wing on his. I realized this week how much anger I have. Knowing that ultimately only God can ease it. It does feel like I’m imping towards the Lord. Struggling, really, to give it up. Yet, once I relinquish that control I will find rest in Him.
On another note, I praying for your mom and your family. For peace, rest, and all the things. 🤍
Karen, I am so sorry that your mother is sick and I’m praying for all of you. I have found the writings of George Herbert and John Donne to be a comfort during times of suffering, as they acknowledge the pain of life while pointing us toward the love of Christ. Thank you for all you are doing!
Karen, inspired by this poem and your post, I'm praying for God's grace to make your mom's healing more magnificent than her life would have been had she never been sick. I am uplifted by your erudition employed for God's glory.
Dear Karen, last week I realized I had not yet removed your mom from my cancer/illness prayer list, and I thought I’d made a mistake. The Lord knew for me to keep praying for you all even before I saw your IG posts or read this. I’m so, so sorry. My mother was hospitalized in January, so I know how scary that is and how, to use another Herbert line, “my heart was in my knees, but no hearing.”
Pondering the visual layout, my first thought on this encounter with “Resurrection Wings” was the pair of cherubim over the mercy seat. The poem’s imped wing points clearly to birds as you explain, but the link to God’s mercy added to my gratitude. The atoning sacrifice of Christ and uniting our wounds to his by faith is how we imp our frail wings to his strong ones, isn’t it? Only in union with him can we soar.
You may not have attention for any extra reading right now (which would be normal, though an added wrench of the heart). In the event that you care to read or listen to an essay I wrote about a different sort of resurrection wings the Lord sent us in my mother’s Homegoing, here is the link, offered only if it might help but with no expectations:
Praying for much comfort, peace, strength, healing, and restorative sleep when you need it. And “fresh oil” when it is not attainable. Courage, dear heart.
Yes, the Lord knew. Strange, isn’t it? But good. I thank you for sharing your essay. I look forward to reading when I can. So grateful for your presence here!
"Imp my wing" reminds me of the Isaiah 40:31 passage: "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles", which I recently used in my post on Corvid birds. To know that use of imp, Herbert must have had some knowledge of birds - I wonder if he was a birdwatcher in his little country parish.
Praying, Karen. Earlier this year I was having a hard time swallowing and for weeks at a time I was always a bit hungry because I couldn't get enough food down. It got worse the more tired I was and it could be quite painful. All studies showed nothing but a little inflammation. I am currently on medication to reduce acid reflux, and so far, the problem hasn't gotten as bad as it was.
Isaiah 40:31 is a beautiful illustration of this harmonious flight. 🕊️
I've just come across this poem again, second time this week, in the book Word Made Fresh by Abram Van Engen and the line 'Most thinne' struck me as possibly playing a dual role - if one n was dropped it would read 'most thine'. Scanned quickly it almost reads that way. When we are most thinne are we also, in fact, 'most thine', most held in the safest of arms and the surest of loves? Experience may well suggest, if not immediately then in retrospect, that the answer is a blessed, astonished Yes.
Oh….yes! Clearly it is meant to rhyme with “sinne” but as we know it is not only a poem for the ear but also the eye.
George Herbert has always been a favorite of mine - not only for his skill but because of the professor who taught me (Dr. Christian Weintz). Dr. Weintz’s calm manner drew me in as he would read and lecture. Your poignant post about your mother reminded me of my mother’s passing. She, too, was basically starving due to dementia. The medical staff explained that her brain was not allowing the calories she was consuming to be processed properly. She was “[d]ecaying more and more.” And so are we. May God give you and your family comfort during this difficult time, and may our Savior return soon.
Thank you, Joan. Such hardness and grace at the same time in these things. Glad I can have poets like Herbert accompany us on these journeys.
This is beautiful and touching Karen.
These reflections always get the tears going. That’s a good thing. I love the line in the poem you mentioned about imping our wing on his. I realized this week how much anger I have. Knowing that ultimately only God can ease it. It does feel like I’m imping towards the Lord. Struggling, really, to give it up. Yet, once I relinquish that control I will find rest in Him.
On another note, I praying for your mom and your family. For peace, rest, and all the things. 🤍
Imp on, friend. Imp on.
Karen, I am so sorry that your mother is sick and I’m praying for all of you. I have found the writings of George Herbert and John Donne to be a comfort during times of suffering, as they acknowledge the pain of life while pointing us toward the love of Christ. Thank you for all you are doing!
Yes! They are a great comfort. So glad the Lord has had me deep in their words for this time.
Thank you for your words of kindness and support.
For the first time I listened to the audio of you reading. I so enjoyed hearing your voice.
My mother had an illness for 18 years. It was a long and hard journey.
I’m so sorry for this hard time you are all going through. My prayers are with you.
Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed listening. 🩵 Thank you for thru prayers, too.
So blessed to have read this. From here in Wales I will be praying for you, your mother and your family.
Thank you so much.
Karen, inspired by this poem and your post, I'm praying for God's grace to make your mom's healing more magnificent than her life would have been had she never been sick. I am uplifted by your erudition employed for God's glory.
Thank you, Kate. We need those prayers as the end of her life draws very near now.
Dear Karen, last week I realized I had not yet removed your mom from my cancer/illness prayer list, and I thought I’d made a mistake. The Lord knew for me to keep praying for you all even before I saw your IG posts or read this. I’m so, so sorry. My mother was hospitalized in January, so I know how scary that is and how, to use another Herbert line, “my heart was in my knees, but no hearing.”
Pondering the visual layout, my first thought on this encounter with “Resurrection Wings” was the pair of cherubim over the mercy seat. The poem’s imped wing points clearly to birds as you explain, but the link to God’s mercy added to my gratitude. The atoning sacrifice of Christ and uniting our wounds to his by faith is how we imp our frail wings to his strong ones, isn’t it? Only in union with him can we soar.
You may not have attention for any extra reading right now (which would be normal, though an added wrench of the heart). In the event that you care to read or listen to an essay I wrote about a different sort of resurrection wings the Lord sent us in my mother’s Homegoing, here is the link, offered only if it might help but with no expectations:
https://open.substack.com/pub/crumbsfromhistable/p/monarch-metamorphosis?r=abt2l&utm_medium=ios
Praying for much comfort, peace, strength, healing, and restorative sleep when you need it. And “fresh oil” when it is not attainable. Courage, dear heart.
Yes, the Lord knew. Strange, isn’t it? But good. I thank you for sharing your essay. I look forward to reading when I can. So grateful for your presence here!
Likewise! 🫂 Is there any practical need that distant friends can meet? DoorDash or Amazon gift cards for comfort or utility?
He truly will.
I think we are ok now. Hospice covers a lot. Perhaps a meal card later. Thank you so much.
🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂 I’m so sorry you are facing this. The Lord will stay with you all, all the way.
Well this is just so, so lovely, the poem and your reflections on it. Praying for you Karen and for you all.
Thank you, Richard.
Powerful stuff. Thank you so much KSP for helping lift us up in Christ.
Thank you. 🙏
Beautiful, tender, and true. Prayers for all.
I hear that lark-song of hope coming through to God's glory in this hard time. Prayers for you. Thank you for including us.
Prayers for your mother, Karen. I know what you’re going through. May the Lord lift you up, strengthen her, and inspire her doctors.
Thank you, Matt.