The Other Parts of Our Hearts

Meditation:  We must listen for God speaking through each other


The problem is:
In order to speak to you;
For you to understand;
It seems like I must speak as an adult.

But for me to tell you the truth;
For us to truly communicate;
For your heart to hear me;
I must speak as a child.

And it may very well be
that there are no words at all
that express what we feel.

In which case
I ask that you imagine
the tears in my eyes
and the way my face crumples
and bends.

Somewhere
the other parts of our hearts
are hidden

Today we can only
try and hope
to remember.

These Broken Parts (Reprise)

I have many topics to write about and yet today this previous post is inspiring me in my life of broken parts.

Proposed Antiphon: Push Towards The Light!

Today a little person
Was trying to re-make her bed
She thought she must have been doing it wrong all week
Because the sheets wouldn’t lie flat
And tended to come off

But really her bed
Was made this week with sheets that weren’t quite right
They were an odd size
Big enough
Workable
But not perfect
And she thought it was her fault
I laughed and explained the problem to her

And thought
That life is like that
Funny but functional
Wrong but workable
Makeshift and marvelous
And that we are forever filling the cracks
And jumping the gaps
And thinking we must be doing something wrong
When in fact, we are doing marvelously
With what we have
Which is enough
Which is workable
Which is a blessing

Perfect is some other world
Not the one we live in
No, we are surrounded by
Appendices of errata
Panda’s thumbs and horse’s toes
Scars and defects
Duct tape and bailing wire

See, in a perfect world
Where everything works well
You would already be at the goal
And that’s not what we’re about
We’re about the next thing
The thing you can barely imagine from here

The thing that you can make if you cobble together
These broken parts
With the contents of the junk drawer
And some duct tape
And bailing wire
And whatever else happens to be lying around

And when we get close to that barely imagined thing
We’ll mostly make it work
But not perfectly
Because we are already busy
Working on the next thing
The thing you can barely imagine from there

And I think God meant us to be this way
Always a little broken
Always working on that next thing
That we can barely imagine from here

That's Still Nuttin - 8,000

As of today, this blog swept past eight thousand visitors.

That's quite a few folks wandering by since December 9th, 2006, and with me posting less lately, due to the interesting nature of my life, it seems like a milestone I should mark by reprising my poem 'That's Nuttin!'

...And thank you for dropping by, all eight thousands of you. See, there was plenty of room after all...


That's Still Nuttin:

Eight thousand folks came knocking
Eight thousand at the door
Eight thousand people searching
Eight thousand, and now more

Eight thousand hidden smiles
Eight thousand who came by
Eight thousand from all countries
Eight thousand who drew nigh

Eight thousand quiet moments
Eight thousand friends to tea
Eight thousand 'I understand's
Eight thousand friends for me

Eight thousand people questing
Eight thousand asking why
Eight thousand gleaming stars
Eight thousand in the sky

Eight thousand cups of coffee
Eight thousand bits of toast
Eight thousand hands held in comfort
Eight thousand times a host

Eight thousand questions answered
Eight thousand, more or less
Eight thousand joined in prayer
Eight thousand joined to bless

Eight thousand is so little
Eight thousand is so small
Eight thousand is not many
I have space for one and all

So come in off the doorstep
Come in, come through the door
Come into my guest room
There's room for many more

Thanks to each of you for coming
I'm sad when your visits end
And please do come back often
And please do bring a friend

I'll be waiting by the doorstep
I'll have the kettle on for tea
Come by whenever you want to
And spend more time with me

-LE

The Voices We Will Not Hear (Reprise)

Alternate Title: 'We Are The Friends'

Previously Posted Here

Proposed Meditation: It is, in the end, all about love.

They are wrong.
They are so very wrong.
We can't hear their voice.

They call out to us - they say:
Isn't this injustice?
Isn't this torture?
Isn't this slavery?

But we can't hear.
We talk louder.
We talk about other things.
We talk about their failings;
We talk about their sin;
We talk about their error.

They sit in their ash-pits,
Covered with sin,
Covered with death,
Covered with sores,
Maligning righteousness,
Indicting the good we do,
Trying to pull us down with them.

They call out to us - they say:
Is this right?
Is this fair?
Is this justice?

But we won't hear;
Instead we talk about maintaining order,
We talk about helping others,
We talk about sharing,
We talk about becoming involved.

They moan on their death-beds accusingly,
They sigh from their cells,
Their deaths scream out to us,
Maligning righteousness,
Indicting good,
Trying to pull down God.

They call out to us - they say:
Would you want this?
Would you choose this?
Would you live this?

But we refuse to hear,
Instead we talk about precedent,
Instead we talk about independence,
Instead we talk about the needs of others,
We shift away so that they don't contaminate us.

They shuffle in their shackles frighteningly,
Occasionally they catch our eyes uncomfortably,
They abusively mention their lost children,
They truculently bring up their lost freedom,
Trying to make us feel sorry for what they deserved,
Trying to shift the argument,
Trying to unseat justice.

They call out to us - they say;
Would you do this to your friend?
Would you do this to a servant?
Do you still keep slaves?

But we won't hear;
We make up stories about them that might be true,
We talk about the rights of others,
We talk about how they cannot be trusted,

They are wrong.
They are so very wrong.
We can not hear their voice.

Be Strong

by Maltbe D. Babcock 1858-1901

Be Strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle-face it; 'tis God's gift.

Be Strong!
Say not, "The days are evil. Who's to blame?"
And fold the hands and acquiesce-oh shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God's name.

Be Strong!
It matters not how deep intrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day how long;
Faint not-fight on! Tomorrow comes the song.

Answer

Did you think
That all you had to do was read
That all you had to do was pray
That all you had to do was recognize me?

I am sorry
that the answer is not so simple
and that this is not all that is required

But in truth
what is required of you is much more

When everyone else is aligned with evil
You must speak of good

When the evil are dying
You must save them, and

When you are dying
You must speak of life

Did you notice the special deference allocated my son
And his disciples?

Know that they are not alone
And that you will share with them
The rewards of my kingdom

If you can gird yourself
with the word.

Nothing comes for free

And your sacriifice

Is not wasted

But the reward

Is also

Not visible

In this world

The peace of God

Such as it is

Be with you.



In response to 'Unclean'.

No Resolution

The chant doesn’t resolve
Nor the song
They fade away
They end
On a half-tone
On an unfinished phrase

And today my life feels like that
Half finished
Between this and that
Not at the beginning
Nor at the end
But somewhere in between

And it isn’t really clear
That I will ever find that end
That resolution
And that makes me sad

Because I am trained
To plan
To achieve
To make goals and meet them
To do more

But, I am advised
Life is not about
The things you check off a list
But more about
The relationships you build along the way.

Now.
How to put that on my To-Do List?

These Broken Parts

Today a little person
Was trying to re-make her bed
She thought she must have been doing it wrong all week
Because the sheets wouldn’t lie flat
And tended to come off

But really her bed
Was made this week with sheets that weren’t quite right
They were an odd size
Big enough
Workable
But not perfect
And she thought it was her fault
I laughed and explained the problem to her

And thought
That life is like that
Funny but functional
Wrong but workable
Makeshift and marvelous
And that we are forever filling the cracks
And jumping the gaps
And thinking we must be doing something wrong
When in fact, we are doing marvelously
With what we have
Which is enough
Which is workable
Which is a blessing

Perfect is some other world
Not the one we live in
No, we are surrounded by
Appendices of errata
Panda’s thumbs and horse’s toes
Scars and defects
Duct tape and bailing wire

See, in a perfect world
Where everything works well
You would already be at the goal
And that’s not what we’re about
We’re about the next thing
The thing you can barely imagine from here

The thing that you can make if you cobble together
These broken parts
With the contents of the junk drawer
And some duct tape
And bailing wire
And whatever else happens to be lying around

And when we get close to that barely imagined thing
We’ll mostly make it work
But not perfectly
Because we are already busy
Working on the next thing
The thing you can barely imagine from there

And I think God meant us to be this way
Always a little broken
Always working on that next thing
That we can barely imagine from here

Seek Her

Wisdom tires of being mocked
She tires of chasing you down twisting alleys of lies
She tires of calling and having you run instead away
Of stretching out her hand and being rebuffed
Of having her counsel ignored

Attend, lest She abandon you
And laugh at your calamity
Lest She mocks when panic strikes you
When the storm sweeps you away
When you find yourself and all you hold dear
Lost in pain and anguish.

Call upon Her now
having trampled Her word
having ignored Her histories
having spat on Her offerings
having scoffed at Her reproof
and She may not answer

She may leave you to your own devices
Twisting on a gibbet of your own design
Trapped in a cage of metal and spikes
Food for the carrion birds
A warning to others

Should you not eat the fruit of your way?
Should you not find yourself at the end of the road you have chosen?

Wisdom still calls - but you are far from Her
Her voice is faint - but can be heard

Perhaps you can return, retrace your steps
Do not listen to the loud voices around you
Hustling you onward to bad ends
Resist the pushing and jostling of those around you
You still need not be lost

You still, perhaps, can be found.
I write this for you, you yourself

Seek Her!

I am a poor steward

I am a poor steward.
I fail to go.
And when I do,
I go too slow.

I am a poor steward,
I have not done much.
I have not helped
I did not touch.

I am a poor steward,
It was not enough
I did not volunteer
When things got tough.

I am a poor steward,
I whine and moan
To help is hard
I trudge, I groan.

I play dumb games,
I waste my time,
I forget names,
I make up rhymes.

I am a poor steward,
And much I waste.
I don’t do good,
I am less ‘salt’ than ‘paste’.

I will be a poor steward,
But still I’ll go.
Please, forgive me, Lord,
That I go slow.

The Leather Shoes I've Had A While

The leather shoes
I've had a while

They're worn and scuffed
They're broken in
Into my shape

They're shaped like me
Perhaps too much

Sometimes I switch
what feet they're on

I wear them backwards
Now and then

Just for a bit
To feel the way

They press my feet
Differently

Somehow it is comforting
To feel them different
And unmeshed

Unmatched to my feet

It is also strange
To wear something

So broken in
And yet so mismatched

It reminds me
Of how comfortable
They are normally

It is kind of like

Seeing an old friend
Doing a new thing

Meeting something
That you know well

In a strange place
Far away

Realizing again
What you are about

When you had forgotten
Or become preoccupied

See, I have made all things new
Even the shoes on your feet

Let them remind you who you are
Remind you what you are

Let them help you remember your calling
And enter into the Kingdom of God

Peace,
LE

The Invisible Made Visible or 'When We Pray'

When we pray,
God doesn't come near;
God doesn't drop in,
God is already here.

When we pray,
God doesn't say 'Oh!'
'So that's what they need!'
God already knows.

So when we pray-
What happens then?
If God knows, is close,
What is prayer then?

Perhaps prayer is
Something WE do
To walk with Love;
And each other, too.

-LE

Balance

Balance
Is not perching on a balance-beam
Is not standing beneath a cliff, or on its edge
Is not building your house on the sand
Is not mortgaging your tomorrows to pay for today

Today you live and breathe
Tomorrow may be very different
Take care of the world, the neighbors and the self you have been given today
Do not sell their or your tomorrows
The world wants you to do this-
Selling your tomorrows can make your todays very comfortable

But when tomorrow comes
With storm
And wind
And earthquake
And chaos
And you find you have mortgaged your future
To pay for a pretty today that is gone
You may regret
Not having taken the slow route

Find a less dynamic way to balance
Plant your feet on the level path
And go in through the straight gate

-LE

Emily Dickinson on Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

May God bless your hopes and prayers with love and peace.

LE

Downspout

Rain comes down
Not every day
But it does come
Sometimes more often than I might like

And under my downspout
I have a watering can
Because when it isn't raining
A very small person likes to wander the yard
Blessing the flowers with water

And in this way
I keep water handy for her
To help her in her mission
And help make the world more beautiful
One drop at a time

May all of our dark rainy days
And all of our sadness
Be similarly transformed into moments
Of sharing and joy

Blessings
LE

That Evening

That evening, after it was dark, one of the chief men of the city came secretly to speak with him.
His name was Nicodemus, and after he had been welcomed, the two of them sat on a bench in the courtyard, with the stars glinting down at them, and a pleasant evening breeze carrying the smell of night-blooming flowers past. They do not speak rapidly, and although thoughtful, are casual with each other:

Nicodemus: Teacher, we know you are from God, because the signs you show us are the work of God, and no one could do them who is not with God.


Jesus: Yet none - no one can see the Kingdom of God unless they are born again.


Nicodemus: How can I be 'born again' - an old man like me? I certainly can't go climbing back into my mother's womb!


Jesus: No one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of the water and the spirit - what is born of flesh is flesh, and what is born of spirit is spirit - this should not astonish you.

The spirit works differently from the way of the flesh - it is more like the wind, -we cannot tell where it comes from, or where it goes, but when it is blowing, we sure know it is there!

Nicodemus: I don't get it.

Jesus: Search your heart, and you will know what I say is true. Do you not teach as much in the temple?

I am telling you what we both know and have seen, ...and yet it is difficult for to recieve. If you cannot hear these things that we share, how will you accept what I have to tell you about heaven?

But I will tell you anyway - and I know this, because the Son has seen Heaven:

The Son of Man must be lifted up - just as Moses lifted up the brass serpent in the wilderness, so that those who believe in him - whomever they are - may have eternal life.

This must happen because God loves the world, loves the world so much that he will give his only Son, so that everyone who belives in him will not die, but instead may have eternal life.

Mind you, God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but so that it might be saved.

And the nightengale sang, and the two talked late into the night as the perfume of the night blooming flowers drifted around them and the stars twinkled.

The Grace of Baptism

I like baptism
I like the gathering of the community
I like the approach, the welcoming of the candidates
I like the blessing of the water
I like the vows taken by and for the candidates
I like the ritual of washing
I like the symbolism of immersion
I like the unity of the body of Christ in the church.

But baptism is a peculiar thing
We do it once
We do it for others
And not for ourselves

Baptism is the Rubicon of Christianity
Once done, we have crossed over
We belong
We are sealed as belonging to Christ

Baptism is a sacrament to many Christians

An outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.

The sign is the wetting, the bathing, the annointing, ...and the grace?

The grace is the forgiveness of sins available to the repentant Christian through Jesus Christ.

And perhaps this is the forgotten beauty of baptism: not its celebration of becoming a member of the body, not the spiritual vows made to actively seek to turn from evil, -these are outward signs- but the initial recognition that we are all in need of perfection, that we all have stumbled, that we all need forgiveness, and that in particular the candidate is recognizing his or her errors, and is formally repenting and seeking forgiveness.

And perhaps this is what Jesus brought to baptism that it did not have before: the authority to say:

"Rise and walk, for your sins are forgiven you."

Rise and walk, and if you stumble, pick yourself up, and walk again.

May you, dear reader, also Rise and Walk

Peace,
LE

Words of Comfort

There are many who feel rejected and judged by the faith - judged unworthy - found to be reprobate - irredeemable and vile, doomed to torment, cast out of community, shunned.

It is for them I copy out the following words of comfort. May meditating on them bring you joy in this Advent season:

From John 12:

And if any man hear my words, and believe not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.


From John 3:

God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, to the end that all that believe in him should not perish, but have eternal life.


From 1 Timothy 1:

This is a true saying, and worthy of all men to be received, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.


From 1 John 2:

If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the propitiation for our sins.


From Romans 8:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? [...] I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.


From 1 John 1:

And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full. This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.


May you find joy in your path this Advent season, wherever your wanderings take you.

-LE

Are you Saved?

Are you saved... ...when were you saved?
People used to ask a lot.
We do speak of salvation sometimes now,
But more often not.

Is saving what happens in this life?
Or does it happen when we die?
Can it happen a long time later,
When in the grave we lie?

Can we be saved in both,
Can we be saved again?
Do we know what saving is?
Can you please explain?

Is saving like pickling,
Or like a photo that we take?
Or is saving like a change
Like love or when hearts break?

And did Jesus save us long ago,
Or does he save today?
And when we say our God came down to save us,
What do we mean? What way?

And if the saved can fall, can they fall from grace in death?
Can you still fall from grace when you can't draw a breath?

Are these important questions,
or do we all just need
to hear God's word and do it?
That would be good indeed!

After The Second Psalm

Why seek to thwart the Lord;
Or work against his will?

And plan for your own gain,
Via your neighbors ill?

Although you be a prince;
With force at your command,

You are a tiny mote
Within God's mighty hand.

The rules that God set out
Apply to one and all.

It is at your own risk
That you ignore God's call.

God's eyes they are not dim
God does not doze or sleep.

Today if you sow ill
Tomorrow ill you'll reap.

In Zion stands the king
His hand upon his sword.

The wise doubt not his will
The prudent hear his word.

Plot not harm or evil;
Don't kill or cheat or steal.

The Lord God is watching
And his wrath is real.