Of Pride and Paying Attention

“Listen, and pay attention! Don’t be arrogant. The Lord has spoken.” Jeremiah 13:15

It really is the same old story; our mouths are what get us into a world of trouble. I was recently in a meeting where a committee member commented on a line item in the budget. His comment was obviously wrong, based on a misreading of the item. But, even after being shown the correct reading by more than one committee member, he continued by saying, “I know what it says. This has actually been an issue for a long time.” Instead of saying, “Oh my, I see that, I misread it”, he insisted he was correct with the evidence right in front of his nose.

Miss the Mojave

Miss the Mojave

(“All of you are children of light and children of the day. We don’t belong to night or darkness.” 1 Thessalonians 5:5)

All I can say is we finally arrived,
travelling all night; summers from Southern
Cali
made frightful a daytime passage through Needles.
90 degrees at midnight, the darkness was dense
as the day.

I missed the Mojave; shadows of yucca were
moonlight silhouettes that moved across the dark floor;
shadow boxes viewed from the back of our desert
whale cruiser. The black Rambler station wagon
swallowed the desert heat and smothered the sleep
right out of us. Dad never paid for air conditioning;
and if we had it, he wouldn’t run it,
we sacrificed cool comfort for increased gas mileage.

One summer we returned so quickly we had to brave
the pounding sun on cracked sand hot as concrete.
Though sweat beaded up and vanished in a single thought,
the colors grabbed our collective complaints as
the death the dark insinuated was alive with the light
we hurriedly pursued.

Prickly pears with tiny yellow blooms,
Beavertail with magenta on outcropped rocks,
Red spines on Mohave clusters spiked their diameter
in tangled mass; scarlet dots the side of the stems.

Mesa and flatland, thunderheads and chuckwallas
swing the panorama from station wagon panel to panel.

Life was scarce, true enough, but not the phantom we saw in the
careful midnight crossing.

The radiator blew, dad always knew, and we never flew again
without checking our watches for midnight across
the great Mojave. 

Increase and Abound

“And the Lord make you to increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all men, even as we also do toward you.” 1 Thessalonians 3:12

Every follower of Jesus would agree that His commands include loving others. Based on His teachings, we would have to admit that it is the highest command. He tells us that the first command is loving God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength, and the second is “like it”, loving our neighbor as ourselves. He tells His disciples to obey His “new” command, “Love each other the same way I have loved you.” And, in the same conversation He tells them the world will recognize they are His followers by that very thing; their love for one another.

Just in Case

Just in Case

(“But I gave them this command: Obey me, and I will be your God and you will be my people. Walk in obedience to all I command you, that it may go well with you.” Jeremiah 7:23)

The world smiles like a museum with all
the still life behind glass. There’s no point in reading photographs
when the mammoths are all dead or millennia asleep.

The church smells like cinnamon and coffee with
all the saints lined after line. There’s no point in reading liturgy
when we entertain from sanctified stages. I do love theater,
just the same.

All I would truly do, I still make sure I do with a point
upstairs. God is my token, an amulet worn around my neck
to show up in photographs published by amateurs
who take all I say as evidence. All I say as witness.

All I say as elephant gray standing in the way of
my postcard behavior.

Why obey what God didn’t say? And, why, of course,
point His way if there is no certainty at all. But we keep
our candles lit just in case,
hum our hymns, rework the words, to keeps us
comfortable between truth and idols.

I am the worst, I am the first at scraping my knees and
calling it prayer.
I lead the line, my smile the fine wrinkle that I am holy
now, holier than thou, and have led the breadth and depth of
my scorecard behavior.

What if time has run out for my indulgence,
and the next word is the last evidence of my existence?
What if I leave the museum pieces, untie my laces
and share a slice of pie with the unknown injured,
whose face I’ve known for ages.

Trophies

Trophy

”For who is our hope or joy or crown of exultation? Is it not even you, in the presence of our Lord Jesus at His coming?” 1 Thessalonians 2:19

Andy Murray ended the Wimbledon drought for the Men’s Championship. From Dunblane, Scotland, Murray is the first Brit to win the coveted title in 77 years. It was a long three set battle with all the ups and downs one would want to see in an Open Championship. Lasting over three hours, extremely long for a three-set match, Murray seemed to have it won when, in the final game of the third set, he was ahead 40-0 on his own serve. One more smashing point and he would hold the coveted trophy high.

Church as Family

(“Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” Colossians 3:13)

If you are I are to know joy and freedom there are six words that must be part of our regular vocabulary: “I am sorry” and “I forgive you”. Simple ideas and nothing new, but revolutionary when we determine to practice them.

I'm Trying

I'm Trying

(“So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline.” Colossians 3:12)

For, though they seemed hidden, every goal slow to appear
still tugged my tired ambitions along; when I wished they
would dematerialize (you realize, without their existence
I could plead my lack of resistance) they reappear every
night I think the sun has laid its head for the final time
upon the ocean's horizon.

I have become the enemy I distaste, the one who thinks
he follows as well as the rest,
all the while disguising his limp,
or using it as a lesson holy perseverance
for the better bodied.

I weep when I would joy, I stand still for hours
after
the starting pistol has discharged its empty cartridge.
I sleep, not well. I wake with eyes undecided;
|swelled due to pain or dreams I cried in.

I see the mountain, love the alpine air,
happy the crunch of untouched sheets of snow.
I carry the sun life upon my forehead,
it lifts me well to the spearheaded trail
and the peak I've preached and stumbled.

Young, I danced at the chances, and pain was
muscles learning their strength.
Now, the feet tap slightly, and every ache
a reason to stay inside and lock the doors.

It is not what I asked for, nor foreordained,
but, unexplained I've run out of wishes,
and cry that all my trying leaves me waiting
for some Samaritan's donkey to take me the rest of the way.