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Violet Nesdoly

About this Christian Poet:
Violet Nesdoly lives in Surrey, B.C. with her husband and is the mother of two adult children. Freelance writing fills her work days. Other poems by her have been accepted and/or published at Utmost Christian Writers, Poets Online (Archive), M. B. Herald, Capper's Magazine, Birds and Blooms, Prairie Messenger, Glad Tidings (Presbyterian) and Time of Singing.

"Baptism" came, in some measure, from the stage of parenting I'm in right now and finding it hard to let go of my late-teen-to-20s kids on various fronts. So, I thought, what if God the Father was in that same zone with Jesus—I mean of course He was perfect, knew the end from the beginning and instigated the incarnation. But at some level, perhaps He felt the risks of parenting too—how can I let go of my Baby? how will He do? and—with Jesus—why don't they "get it?" see what a gift He is, how absolutely special and unique?

Among her many other achievements, Violet Nesdoly was Utmost's International Christian Poet Laureate for 2006 and 2007.

Baptism

When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened. Luke 3:21

For thirty years and nine months
heaven's Son-silent corridors,
its echoing rooms with their litter
of creation and Word-clutter
have been my constant reminder
of His absence.

Though always vigilant
I have restrained myself
from reaching down
to steady His first tottering steps,
held back from lavishing gifts
against hunger, sadness, cold
from interfering with Nazareth bullies
and the enticing eyes of Galilean girls,
limited myself to an awakening touch
in the still-dark morning,
inaudible whisper in a garden.

Today—this coming-of-age
beginning, graduation, birthday
all rolled into one—
He has come to this river
with questioning prayers.
Does He really not know?
Today even the decorous angels
will not hold me back.

I release Spirit
not as wind, or flame or flattening bolt
but as Dove—He will understand
this message of foreshadowing—
then proclaim
in a deluge
that immerses time,
"You are my Son whom I love.
With you I am well pleased."

                   Copyright©2004 by Violet Nesdoly