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All Articles For Looyenga, Suzanne

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Sion or Zion, the mount upon which the Canaanite town of Jebus was situated, was a place with a fair and lovely climate, but it was blessed especially with the natural defenses found in its high aspect and in the three deep valleys that surrounded it. In addition, the city had a natural water source in the Kidron Valley just outside the city walls, the Spring of Gihon. Named from a verb meaning “gush forth,” the spring supplied fresh water in abundance, refreshing and cleansing the people, and providing ample water for their terraced gardens throughout the valley. King David...

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The house, for all the violence it had endured in the storm, had, thankfully, been built upon a firm foundation, and still stood upright in its place. Various pieces of its frame littered the yard, along with sticks and leaves and other detritus that the wind had tossed; but that was not the real calamity. It was the inside of the courtyard surrounded by rooms that formed the Judaean home that showed the ferocity of the storm. There had been a vine, beautiful and flourishing, inside the walls of the house, rooted in that courtyard. It had provided fruits in...

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Mrs. Looyenga is a member of South Holland Protestant Reformed Church. She wrote this poem for the 75th anniversary and read it at the Pre-Convention Singspiration. When energy burst forth from God’s creating mind, His Spirit, by the power of His spoken Word, gave form, And there was light. What creature saw it when it shined, Illuminating, radiating warm Upon the universe of matter waiting there? When firmament was for the heavens placed, And waters gathered from the land still bare, Hills skipped and vales rejoiced as waters raced. A universal chorus started thus— “Not unto us, O Lord, not...

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Suzanne Looyenga is the wife of Dr. David Looyenga, mother of six children, and a poet. With her family, she is a member of the Protestant Reformed Church of South Holland, Illinois. The poem is based on Luke 10:2. The blaze of noontime sun has passed And golden fields, sun-blest, lie waiting— Waiting for the harvesting— Their bronze and amber undulating As the quickening autumn breezes blow. Soon comes the snow. Already do the shadows tell The hasty circuit of the sun And the time is ever creeping forward To the day man’s work is done: When winter blasts with...

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Reckoning (Romans 8:18) Counted — All counted — hairs, Sparrows’ falls, and tears, Stars, stumbling sheep; He knows their number, Does not slumber, Does not sleep. And we, Who, nightly counting, Tally losses slowly mounting, Numbering trials, griefs, and pains, Fail to reckon, Fail to see our Keeper beckon As He sums the heavenly gains. — Suzanne Terpstra Looyenga

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Paradox He is I AM.  Before the world began  He was and is.  And by His great command  That which was nothing  Came to light and life as planned,  And void became  His vast domain of praise.  Ancient of Days,  He drew a time out of eternity  And scooped the dust to form a man,  And breathed eternity into a lump of clay and sand.  Such foolishness for One 

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In Lodebar, the Pastureless, I languished, far, Far from the courts that I had known Near to Grandfather’s throne. A dead dog such as I Could cry And none would hear From Lodebar. And who would understand The wretched poverty, The burden of infirmity That swallowed us The day we fled in fear To this poor, barren land? And then the summons came: “King David calls,” They cried to me. And I was carried to Jerusalem, Not even able to go up myself, With these frail, useless legs you see. And when he called me by my name, “Mephibosheth,” My...

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Suzanne Looyenga, wife, mother, and poet, is a member of the Protestant Reformed Church of South Holland, Illinois. The poem is based on a communion sermon that had the Song of Solomon 2:4 as its text: “He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.” Beloved Bridegroom, I am come, Carried by Thee, my love, my life, Unto this house of banqueting, this house of wine, For Thou hast called me wife And I am Thine. Here o’er me floats the banner of Thy love To all proclaiming that my place has been secured. Here...

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Mrs. Looyenga is a mother in the Protestant Reformed Church in South Holland, Illinois. The land is parched here. Not one small, tender root has sprouted forth from this cracked ground, it seems, forever. Our god, our Baal, is found to be no friend to widow or to fatherless. It is my guess that one small meal remains for us— my son and me. We’ll eat—and then we’ll die. Already Hunger pains us daily— stalks— with Death not far behind. And now, who stands before, who speaks to me? And has he come just to remind this widow of her...

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