Poetry: a genetically carried tendency?

I was tossed about

Filled with fear and doubt,

Seeking happiness apart from God;

Then His pow'r divine

Changed this life of mine

As I plunged into the crimson flood!

Matchless grace and love

Sent from Heav'n above--

Jesus Christ came down to die for me

By His wondrous grace

I shall see His face

And shall reign with Him eternally.

Now day by day,

I walk with Jesus hand in hand

I'll follow Him

At His command

This my song shall be, through eternity:

Jesus Christ is everything to me!

--Valerie Fluegge (now Mydske)

sometime in the 1940s

I didn't even know my grandma wrote poetry. Going through old pictures as we prepared a little video slideshow for their sixtieth anniversary coming up, I ran accross this little book made of rough-edged paper and covered with a plaid upholstry-type fabric. Inside, as I gingerly held the book to keep the pages from falling out, I saw a letter addressed to Grandma's mom, dedicatingthis little book of poems and pictures to her. Thumbing through the pages, I asked her and found that she had written most of the poetry herself.

That blessed me. Being an aspiring poet myself, I was delighted to find that I was not walking a new path in my family. Someone had gone before me; not only in piecing together words and lines, but in putting them together in a feeble attmept at expressing who Christ is and what He has done.

Thank you, Grandma! And thank You Jesus, for letting me see this glimpse into the past, this new appreciation for my heritage.