JANET KESSLER POLUDNIAK

Writing about myself seems strange. My writing ususal comes out of life
experiences, often in the midst of severe trials. It’s been interesting to
look back over the years to see how the tone has changed—for the better I
hope. I feel guilty taking credit for most of the poems because I know where
they come from.

Often, I am awakened in the wee hours of the morning with the lines of a
poem running in my mind. I’ve tried to ignore it—resisting the idea of
crawling out of a warm bed and sitting before my computer in obedience to
the Voice, “Write the things I tell you.” When I’ve resisted, they are gone
forever—a missed opportunity, so I’ve learned to obey that “still, small
voice.” When I rise in the morning, I’m amazed at the power and wisdom in
the poem—not mine, but His.

I grew up in Binghamton, along the southern-tier of New York State. We lived
in a large house on the south side. I was the youngest of four with only
five years from oldest to youngest. With four children to raise, Mom worked
hard, supplementing our income by baking rolls and bread to sell to our
neighbors. My father worked long hours in a utility company. It was years
before we had a car or a TV. Because my parents were busy with their
choices, I felt alone.

By the time I was a tween—between early adolescence and my teen years—I had
leaned toward the wild side, full of resentment toward my parents and
siblings for things I won’t mention here. But resentment is a wasting
disease. Sadly, it eats at our heart causing anger and rebellion. I was
hungry for love and acceptance, and at fourteen, I found both in the Lord
thanks to my ninth grade music teacher. When I came face to face with that
reality, it changed my life forever.

Over the years, the poems have been proof to me of God’s abiding love and
tender mercy. He has nurtured me through the storms of life—and there were
many. He brought healing in my life from abuse and other wounds that
festered. “He has set my feet upon a rock.” He has given me hope and
direction in my life. The poems started when I was sixteen. Whenever I need
direction and answers to life’s hard questions, He’s there—whispering in the
night hours. Who could ask for more than that?

I share the poetry—regardless of the personal content—because I know how
much it helped me. My hope is that it will encourage others to see Him out
and find the same loving Father I found. At almost sixty-three, I’ve learned
a lot, but there’s much more to learn.

Story ID:	4083
Written by:	OurEcho Admin (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:	In The Spotlight
Location:	CAYUGA New York USA
Year:	2008
Person:	JANET KESSLER POLUDNIAK