Setting the Thermostat

Setting the Thermostat

(“I’ve sought your favor with all my heart; have mercy on me according to your word.” Psalm 119:58)

Tonight, I dreamed the same dream
I have dreamed for half my life. I was a pastor,
an assistant pastor,
and had been away for a week of vacation.
I returned to my duties: setting the thermostat,
leading worship, and any other tasks, pre-planned
or last-minute,
assigned to me by my boss: the Pastor.
But the thermostats had been replaced while
I was gone,
and no one told me. I broke into a cold sweat,
remembering how sharp the words when I
had failed similar orders before. (Someone standing
by the door took pity on me and instructed me about
the mystery of turning up the heat.)
It was time for worship, it was time for the opening song.
It was time for me to be ready, and I got it all wrong.
I could not find the music, I forgot all the lyrics,
sweat accumulated under my arms. I finally sang
a familiar chorus, “Praise the Name of Jesus”, and only
remember my own voice cracking like last embers dying.

There was a tiger on the prowl, outside, next scene,
in the dream. He turned upon seeing me, back into the
gray hills where dreams unload their fears.
I ventured out again and saw the same tiger,
a giant rendition of a black and white striped kitten
who used to be a pet. And the tiger turned again,
and did not reappear in the dream.
But a cougar did. A mountain lion crouching,
menacing, stalking, and moving toward my scented fear.
 It would not
take the same path as the tiger. It would not walk
away. I kicked at it. I yelled. I tried to crawl away until,
kicking yet harder, I kicked the blanket off the bed
and, waking, the cougar, the tiger, the pastor and the fire
disappeared after I opened my eyes.

Did I say I have dreamed this same dream
for half of my life? Did I mention that the place
where peace should be present
has been the source of nightmares ever since?

Demons do not haunt my night sweats,
it is the abode of those who were good at
what they did
and insisted on perfection: something I never
completed.

So now I ask for favor. Now I ask for mercy.
Now I sit quietly. Now I write my own lyrics.
Now I cherish imperfection. Now I adore the
pet dog and children next door.

The Setting of Autumn

 

The Setting of Autumn

(“God has made everything fitting in its time, but has also placed eternity in their hearts…” Ecclesiastes 3:11a)

This is the kind of town where
you can watch Autumn set slowly behind the hills
while
an easy wind exhales with Winter rain.
And yet,
and yet,
I was not ready for the next season nor
expected that harsh pellets of heaven descending
would add to the darkness that remained
well past the rising of the sun.

For all the ice, for all the floods,
for all the harsh north that blew in through
the windows’ thin panes,
there was still waiting to do.
There was still waiting to do
well into the arms of heavy afternoons.
There was still one more word to hear
before the clouds obscured the sun that
had warmed the land. There were no
magic wands,
but there were words that broke through
sleet and raindrops,
sleep and pain.

It was time to listen again.