Above the Weakening Waves

Above the Weakening Waves

“Jesus said, ‘Come.’ And Peter left the boat and walked on the water to Jesus.” Matthew 14:29)

I’ll be the first to admit the whipping wind almost
was too much for me. The day turned on a dime and the
evening screamed like a child with a lost toy. We were
afraid

we would never get home. Once the storm hit, we
threw out hope like a lifeline cut in two. We could not see;
the waves crashed, and the wind was a banshee. No one
predicted this, no one had it on their radar. The radio scanned
for boats nearby but all we heard was static etched by lightning.

Fear rose like a monster from the waters. Our throats were tighter
than the rigging we hoped would hold.

We thought he was a ghost. The tempest tainted our vision.
But we heard the words urging us toward courage and we thought
we knew; it was so familiar. I steeled myself, shivering in the wind.
“Could that be you?” And then insanely I said, “If it is,
tell me to join you on the water.”

All he said was, “Come”.

I cannot explain it, or why I asked. But putting my feet over the side,
I touched the water, and it was solid under me. I was dizzy with
wonder; my breath escaped into the waning storm. I could see
him
as I had seen him so often before.

Then the wind whistled, the waves spit, the boat still rocked like
a jazz band warming up, and I saw it from the corner of my eye.
My feet slipped. “Help” is all I knew how to cry. And “Lord, save me!”

I felt my hand in his, the strength grasping me. He told me my
faith was small, but I thought
I had endured pretty well. It was the storm that spun me away.

But his presence calmed me and calmed the wind and waves.
Like a morning after thunderstorms our hearts were overcome,
believing, hoping, wondering, stuttering a new faith
that danced above the weakening waves.

I Have Waves Within

I Have Waves Within

(“My Father has life in himself. And so he has made his Son to have life in himself.” John 5:26)

And so I sat drinking a beer I’ve ordered twice before.
This time the server brought me a sample and said,
“some people don’t like this one.”
“I’ve had it before”, I said, and wondered what the complaint
could be.
I asked the proprietor and she said, “They say it’s too sweet.”
And I had never thought it sweet before.

Now as I sipped it, along with tortilla chips and salsa,
I decided it was sweet indeed. My tastes run toward the
citrus and sour. I don’t know why I never noticed it.
I don’t know why this time it was far too sweet for my tastes.

I have a brain susceptible to change. I have waves within
that gravity pulls in a constant ebb and flow. I live most of
my days
in the neap tide.

It does not matter, except I would rather be the influencer
than the influenced. I’ve developed a strange
attitude. I’ve had a change of heart. I see the students
of mediocrity hiding in the wings. I’ve often wished
I had majored in artful things.

You have convinced me, and I will never be the same.
Every chance I take I consider that tickling of leaves in
the early summer breeze. I contemplate things I
rarely understand. And understand things far beyond
contemplation.

So let’s share some wine before the afternoon wastes away.

The Ocean of Love

The Ocean of Love

(“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” Matthew 25:40)

Don’t be afraid to fall,
fall into the deep,
the fathomless ocean,
the ocean of love.

I once was afraid of the water,
afraid I would drown.
Once I jumped from the high dive
at the pool in the middle of town.
That was the last time I entered the water
from that elevation.
But then I met some people,
Lord, I’m glad they were found,
who loved the ocean, swim or float,
and with butterfly strokes, stayed until the
sun went down.
And now I am happy, though somewhat afeared,
to sink to the bottom of the ocean to
leave these roses for you there.

Doing it for one, we do it for all,
the ocean is full of waves created from
the beginning of time. When you dance among the coral,
you dance with God, and when you dance with God, you dance
with all creation.

You cannot divide the ocean, it will spill over every time,
you cannot divide the Father and the Son, the Spirit
circles it all in oceans of love.

I swam with dolphins once. I baptized an orphan.
I ate with Jesus at Taco Bell, an alcoholic friend of mine.
I fished through ice for Walleye and fried them up that night.
The coyotes and the cracking of the ice were the soundtrack.
From Arizona to Spanish Harlem, from South Africa to the Ukraine,
you cannot divide humanity, we all share the same hopes and
the same pain.

Don’t be afraid to dive,
dive into the deep.
We are all creatures of the sea,
the fathomless ocean,
the ocean of love.

The Waves Broke Like Concrete

The Waves Broke Like Concrete

The ocean waves broke like concrete on the
boarders in the sand who
dug in for the ride;
a modest place to rent.

Never wanting to hide, but a helmet would be nice
to protect the hard-shell thoughts that pinged like
billiard balls through the felt and slate mind. It
was high tide again
and the swim to safety
was beyond the reach of tenants
who had no claim to stake.

Was there a suction that would hold them in place,
a tentacle strong enough to grab a neighbor who
also could not swim
and stick it out long enough to
watch the sea back away again?

Is this the way families are made,
the way babies survive?
Is this the advent or the resurrection,
is this the tick tock at the art gallery,
have we run out of time?

Fascinating rhythm, strange syncopation,
days and nights,
weeks and months,
high tide, low tide,
neap tide and rip tide.

One look at the moon or sun
has a way of explaining everything.