Never Sleeps

While a pastor on the Fort Berthold Reservation I was honored with the Indian name, "NeverSleeps". It was primarily because I was often responding to particular needs in the middle of the night.

Even more relevant, the Lord Himself, Maker of all, "Never Sleeps".

Surely you know.
Surely you have heard.
The Lord is the God who lives forever,
who created all the world.
He does not become tired or need to rest.
No one can understand how great his wisdom is.

Isaiah 40:28

Welcome to every reader. I am a simple follower of Jesus. He is perfect, I often fall short.

Monday, February 27, 2023

The Next Snare


 The Next Snare

(“They sent some of the Pharisees and supporters of Herod to trap him in his words.” Mark 12:13)

Lately all we do is wait for the next snare prepared
from our opponents, although we never saw them that way.
Are they students of heresy,
or do they snip words from their parchments to
prove their underlined passages could stand the test
of time?

Do you also want to be free? Do you also want to dance when
everyone else huddles in the corners
frightened
they will be exposed by the turn of the screw
experts always use
to disarm their unsuspecting targets.

Why do you bring your questions? Do you want debate,
or do you want answers? Why do you hate the stories
that generate more joy than your microscopic readings ever will?

Hey, could you give a guy a ride instead of piling
backpacks full of landmines on his shoulder? I am
over the tiptoe life. I am done with the squeeze you use
to extract all the juice from me, and then call me lifeless
when all that remains is rind and pulp. I cannot even
give you credit these days
for thinking you were doing God’s bidding;
look at your fruit, look at the faces in the dirt,
look at the gold crosses around their necks,
the movies they create insulting everyone’s intelligence.

What is your vested entrance? Do you simply want more
acreage in heaven by excluding my gay brother,
my muslim neighbor, my democratic senator,
my intellectual uncle.
And me--
the one who used to exclude as many as you do.

What you call truth is just another excuse to squeeze the life
out of every person and group you don’t understand. Then
you sing your songs, clap your hands, pound your chests,
expound your missives, and declare everyone dead except

For the chosen who hoist national flags on their steeples
and wonder why the vacancy rate is so high.
All I know, and by all I can tell, for every person
trapped by your snares,
there are dozens behind them breathing life into
their wounds. And soon
you will have to answer for the questions you used
to make good people cringe. You will be accountable
for the walls the privileged built while dedicating it
all
to
god.

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