Strange Fish Who Seek The Fisherman

God draws us in.
We are always moving
Always hiding, always shifting
But God knows where we are
and God draws us in.

God draws us in like an angler
Playing a strong fish with a weak line
Gently tugging
Pulling and drawing.

We go other ways
We dart this way and that
Sometimes we circle slowly in
And sometimes we break the line and charge away
And God must cast for us again, and again.

God is a patient fisherman
God’s nets are wide and can enclose us all
And yet we can slip out if we will;

God can land his lures over us,
Wherever we hide
But we can ignore them
Or we can break the line and escape.

We must be fish who want to be caught
Who allow ourselves to be drawn;
Fish who seek the fisher.

Because the day will come
When the fisher packs up his gear
And there is no more time
No time for playing the difficult fish
Who wants to go its own way.

A day when the fisherman will take his catch
To the eternal river
Where they will forever
Swim in the holy water of God.

Job Was A Good Man From Uz

Job was a good man from Uz,
Whose life caused a biblical buzz.
He was good as can be,
Steadfast as a tree.
And blessed in all things that he does.

His faith was quite pleasing to God,
But the Devil said ‘Isn’t it Odd?’
I think Job does what he should
‘Cuz his luck is all good.
If things went real sour, he’d curse God.

Well God said “I hear what you say,
That Job’s heart is as pliant as clay.
I think you are wrong
Job’s faith is quite strong
Go ahead, take Job’s blessings away.

Horrid Satan, that very same day
Took Job’s children and riches away.
But Job, though distraught,
Had faith, and he thought;
“The Lord giveth, and taketh away”.

Now the Devil got kind of hot
Things did not turn out like he thought.
But he thought he might
Still prove he was right
And prove ill Job whom Our Lord had wrought.

So Later - inside of a year,
Satan said to God; “Isn’t it queer
How to save their own skin,
The most righteous will sin -
Even Job whom you hold so dear.”

So God said “I see you imply,
That if Job thought that he might just die,
He would sin a whole lot,
-I think he would not,
But go on and give it a try.”

So Satan made Job really sick
Inflicted him with wounds, sores and ick.
From his foot to his head
Job wished he was dead
He was so sorely tried by ‘Ol Nick

Job’s wife didn’t do him much good
She said that she thought that he should
Curse his cruel God
That traitorous clod,
And if Job fell over dead, it’d be good.

But Job with a pious ‘Aum’
Uttered a brief Hebrew poem:
“God can’t only give good,
As you think he should,
Depart from me – with my Shalom.”

Then three friends of Job came to see
How Job still managed to be;
Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar
Came from near and from far
And sat next to Job, knee to knee.

They sat quiet with Job a long while
In true friendship – they showed some real style.
They said not a word,
They looked quite absurd,
With Job they were walking a mile.

Then Job spoke - cursed the day he was born.
His life he treated with scorn,
He wished he was dead,
Or died in birth instead,
His comfortable life was so torn.

Eliphaz, Zophar and Bildad
Gave the best advice that they had -
“Confess all your sin!
-This trouble you’re in,
Must be because you were bad.”

Then God showed up in a cloud,
With a wind and some thunder real loud;
Poor Job and his friends,
Feared that this was the end;
By the Almighty they were all quite cowed.

And God said; “This is not a dig;
But you all forget I’m quite big
Though I’m with you each day,
And I won’t go away,
For piety there is no ‘vig’.

By this speech faithful Job was impressed
Though his friends were rather distressed,
They’d all learned quite well,
That life can be like hell,
And the faithful are not always blessed.

Now Job, who had lost quite a lot,
Was restored – new children he got,
He got back his health,
And twice as much wealth,
And lots of grandkids to besot.

Now I hope that Job’s lesson is clear -
Not to hold things in this world too dear -
Don’t be quick to blame sin,
When folks fail to win.
Because trouble is always quite near.

The Testing of Mother Teresa

I am, I think, still mulling the separation from God that Mother Teresa reportedly felt for much of her career, and spiritual dry spells in general. I have read that individuals often, even usually, experience very difficult spiritual dry spells as they advance in faith.

I sometimes wonder if this isn't because these adepts become so close to God, that they lose the sense of God as distinct from theirselves. Or maybe as they graduate from the primary school of faith they should need less direction and encouragement. Or are evil forces blinding them to the presence of God? Or maybe something else is going on... ...but what?

It is sure that these dry times exist for many, and that they are painful. But why do they exist? Are we just too needy, constantly demanding the full attention of our God-parent? Do we forget what brought us here in the first place? Do we lose contact with the love that should be charging us?

I am sorry Mother Teresa apparently felt so very lost for so long, but in the face of that lack of confirmation, that lack of consolation, she fought on in the faith, battling a lonely battle for and alongside us all. She had faith enough for this battle, and carried it to the end.

God Bless Mother Teresa and those who follow in her footsteps. May it be that from now on they find God always at their side.

Peace,
LE

"This is NOT a Test"

They say that our God tests us,
But it is not like they think;
It's not to see of what we're made
That life brings us to the brink

And life's not a trial by jury;
No sum of wrongs and rights.
It's not to prove our mettle;
That we suffer painful rites.

Our testing is to temper;
To strengthen and to cure;
An annealing and a firing;
That makes our spirits pure.

God does not need to try us;
God knows just how we're made.
Life's not about temptations;
And some rules to be obeyed.

No, at life's fire God smelts us
To work out evil's taint;
In fire and ice God tempers us;
To draw us out...
-a saint.

Satan was in my mailbox today

Satan was in my mailbox today
He was there yesterday too
I am impressed how hard he tries
To find bad things for me to do

He stuffs junk in my mailbox
He solicits me
Bombards me with temptation
For things that I don't need

Why don't you break the law?
Or buy this useless stock?
Pills so you won't feel Blah?
Or this expensive piece of schlock?

He tempts with things I can't mention,
Guilty pleasures galore.
Gluttony, lust, and luxury,
To buy more, and more, and more

To spend of the treasures I'm given
For things of neither good nor worth,
To spend my life in consumption,
Till I find my bed in the earth.

And then what would I tell my Maker,
About all the aged booze in my shed,
About my portfolio of junk-bonds?
My Rolls is no good if I'm dead.

And maybe that's how I will filter,
The good things from the bad.
Things that, when I meet my Maker
Will make us happy, not sad.