Sierra V. Fedorko

Last spring felt nothing like the springs I’ve come to love. I was in the first trimester of pregnancy, sick as ever, and also in the midst of a family emergency which tilted my world on its axis.

Strange as it sounds I felt small comfort in the fact that being so physically sick reflected how I felt emotionally.

But long before those bitter spring months , I’d have written this poem.

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I don’t see the roses,
don’t believe the daisies,
can’t recall the seed
from which the sunflower
bloomed,
can’t feel the sunshine
resting
on my arms,
nor the breeze
on my skin,
nor the joy in my
bones.

But I stumble on the zinnias
I never planted there,
and I respond
to my son
calling out Mom.
I can hold my daughter’s
small hands in mine, can’t
ignore the endless sparkle
in her blue eyes,
and I must harvest these late
summer tomatoes spilling
from the vine.

So it would seem, though I resist,
God’s goodness to me
remains
regardless of my good feelings,
regardless of my falling apart,
my forgetfulness, all my
resistance!

I rinse the tomatoes in the sink, tuck
the children into bed.
Sunflowers fill the strawberry
vase, bare moonlight where
broad daylight had been.
Even still, even yet!
Light abides,
abiding.

Regardless. Regardless. Regardless.

-S.V.F., Regardless

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I first penned this poem last year as a part of a collection in which I explored the complexity of one’s trust in God and the ebb and flow of a strengthening walk with Him. It was a deep dive into the spiritual wrestling, anguish, and triumphs of the Christian faith, and the realization that once you come up for air, you understand you don’t have to “be okay” to have a rested spirit and a sound mind. 

Dead of Night is a poetry collection less about finding answers and more about realizing our reality can be faced with Christ.

And so in the spring when my world fell apart, and I was sick to my core physically and emotionally, I only questioned the birdsong briefly. I was only angry at its presence momentarily. Because soon I found comfort in the reality that God was making good + beautiful things despite the midnight of my soul.

God turned the season of winter into spring…anyway.

God continued in beautiful things like flowers and birdsong when there was darkness rising and resting like fog over my life.

Still He did and does beautiful things. 

Still He is good. 

Still there are blessings from His hand.

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Find the original poem and download the FULL collection of honest + hopeful poetry here. It’s completely free to you.