when i know not what comes
help me see your face on everyone
leave my impatience sitting on a warm bench in the sun
let me walk where you will
upon the narrow ways of compassion
so that the light in me is given all away when the day is done
then at night i’ll rest in your love
where else shall i run?
trusting you will refill me before a new day has begun
through a screen of black birds
which suddenly clears
my eye sees in the far distance
in a brief space between the clouds
the vapor trail and bright spark of a jet
high up in the atmosphere
later they alight
upon sustenance thrown down by an elder to feed
only to disappear
to return again and again
to the generous gift of seed
once unfamiliar ones such as i are no longer near
now it is night and i fly along unfamiliar roads
the bright patch before me
the only thing that is clear
trusting that when i alight at my destination
faith has again proven constant
and the doubts that flew beside me
have all but disappeared
I have a confession to make.
I have become a WTF kind of person,
an ATF break down the door bullet proof vest wearing flash bomb throwing sort of man,
storming the gates of hell, and every other gate or door that gets in my way,
in the face of adversity,
every stubbed toe or finger or bruised ego,
driver cutting me off,
hurtful words or someone’s stupid decision.
WTF?! I shout or think.
How dare they?
How dare You, God?
Who am I to think I am immune to the stuff of life?
stinky sticky stuff
that seems to just get on everything,
(And if I am suddenly blessed,
it is so I can bless others.
This ain’t about me.
Never has been.
Never will be.
(What’s this stuff about becoming less?)
I’m a dead man.
(Supposed to be or should’ve been anyway).
That’s the meaning of being redeemed, right?
Now alive in Christ.
(I think anyways).
So it’s high time for some
Thank You, Jesus.
Regardless what happens.
Instead of yeah you know that other acromonious acronym that comes to,
and seems to have taken over,
So surprise me, God.
I got my eyes squeezed shut.
I still really don’t like this.
But I know it’s the right way to be.
Faith, I think it’s called.
I hear You.
“Love believes the best about someone else. When you’re inclined to mistrust and suspect, look for the positive intention instead. Seek the good and you will find it.” –Rev. Mary Manin Morrissey
I have finally come to the conclusion that I will never understand this place. I am indeed a stranger here and, as the years go by, I feel more and more out of place.
When I was in elementary school, I began to choke on a peppermint candy. When the water fountain failed to dislodge it, two teachers, each grabbing a leg, turned me upside down and shook me. I can still see through tear-blurred eyes the candy falling from my lips and shattering on the hard cafeteria floor.
Most days, I feel like I am still upside down and shaking. Such a view makes for very little progress, at least in the eyes of the status quo. And it is a rather difficult perspective to convey.
But it reminds me that sometimes God has to grab me by the legs, turn me upside-down, and give me good shaking to get out whatever is choking me inside.
I am learning that I am best when I stop struggling to get back on my feet to what most folks would call right side up.
I still miss the invisible.
My eyes have yet to see the unseen.
The intangible is no less real than what is before me.
The rain falls gently on the roof while I am asleep.
Blessings touch me.
I only know when I am awake.
I find the cicada shell on the tree.
The creature has flown away.
But I know it is here somewhere by what it has left behind and by its buzzing song in the air around me.
Revelations await the opening of wet wings.
Unspread they will not receive the sun’s warm kiss.
Yesterday’s silence is gone.
The words I longed for were waiting to be heard.
No longer fearful I place them as incense here.
I was cleaning today, tired of the dust, a spring cleaning in winter. Such cleaning and the reorganizing that goes along with it help to do the same to me on the inside.
And I wind up discovering mementos that I temporarily forgot.
One such is a note from my grandfather. Words of wisdom in his scrawling hand that seem even more apropos in these uncertain days.
“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”
rising from bed in the night
i find the fog has fallen
tomorrow is an hour away
the clarity of consequences forthcoming eludes me
to worry is to grasp for some control
to find the perfect scenario of what may be
to think of the right words to say
but such does not a peaceful heart create
I am left with only the mist
and my faith that in the end
what will be
the sun will rise
the blindness will burn away
I will see what
I will see