Over our Heads

Over our Heads

(“I am coming to you now. But I pray these things while I am still in the world. I say all this so that these followers can have the true happiness that I have. I want them to be completely happy.” John 17:13)

Angelic arpeggios are always dancing in a world with perfect acoustics.
Rain spins and mockingbirds on old limbs on forested ledges echo
the rounded chords; writing and rewriting, singing their choreography
under our feet,
and
over our heads,
and
within the earth,
and
from the farthest star.

I don’t know what the future is for my babies. I only wish them happiness.

Autumn drips more often in syncopation, the rain reminds the wind
to chime, bamboo and aluminum, hanging from garage and patio eaves.
The leaves take a chance, flying from their perches with cursive flight plans
until they land to cover the hillsides until snow.

The Father hears the request of the Son; in this world, before the next one,
for joy to be modified so all can read the lines, and memorized, the day
that begins mournful can arise, not theorized and greater dimension than
pantomime, is sung without a thought of how it will end, or
why it began.

I Hate Fighting

“Because of his grace he declared us righteous and gave us confidence that we will inherit eternal life.” Titus 3:7

I hate fighting. I hate trying to prove that I am right. I hate arguing my way into being accepted. I cannot stand wrestling to be understood, even at the risk of being even more misunderstood. I hate the energy it takes trying to prove that I’m an okay guy. I hate fighting.

When the Helper Comes

“When the Helper (the Holy Spirit) comes, He will show the world the truth about sin. He will show the world about being right with God. And He will show the world what it is to be guilty.” John 16:8

We live in a time when the existence of truth is questioned. We may even hear phrases such as “my truth” or “your truth”, as if some things change depending on the person or circumstance. And clearly, there are many things that are influenced and informed by the situation. That is why a person can be convicted of Manslaughter, Second Degree Murder or First Degree Murder. Depending on the circumstances of the case, one charge would apply more than another.

Yes, and, Our Back Pages

Yes, and, Our Back Pages

(“Pick up Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful to me for service.” 2 Timothy 4:12b)

The leaves twirled on the winter grass like
sparrows dancing romance. The final rosebuds nodded,
the summer campfires have turned to woodheat inside
winterized homes. Morning does not break in the Northwest
autumn, but sneaks up slowly from late night’s dark insistence
to the day obscured by couriers of rain. Even the dog barks
at the fallen log that lay there just the same day before,
and before just the same. And the cat stretches, winking
at the careless movement toward afternoon.

Those mornings carry more weight, though far less sunlight;
this season asks for reckoning, extra apparel and friends
spending
an evening watching the children play, begging to
go out into the rain.

These days suggest the joy we left behind at summer’s end,
this life asks for memories and names and daytrips and old friends.
Old friends, the ones we saw every day when we were young,
and spent the duration of every day playing like night never comes.

This time reminds our eyes, our state of mind, that young love ages,
friendships are memorized in stages, and every book eventually ends,
the few back pages we slowly read, hoping for a sequel,
longing for another childhood recommended to take us on the
last several seasons home.

Today the horizon is broken by hills and changing trees,
if not, I might see you coming. If not, I might hear your footsteps
on the sloppy leaves wanting to know if, one more time, just maybe,
I could come out to play.

Leave them Alone!

Leave them Alone!

(“The people of Ephraim have chosen to worship idols. Leave them alone!” Hosea 4:17)

The pencil lay on the desk, just askew of the
yellow legal pad
with scribbled outlines, adjectives unfinished,
and another attempt to open a crack in the common
worship, the vulgar songs that, with their bland truth
became palatable for even the vainest congregant
who even showed up early to be sure all the seats
were well-dusted.

Down to a nib, with the eraser hardened and slick as
a river-worn pebble, there was little to say; it had all been said.
But it always seemed there must be another way to get through the heads
that misread every Scripture, misinterpreted every face,
that prayed for money and keys misplaced to the gods of
“At Your Service”. The rich knew their god would only make
them richer. The poor hoped their god would take the tithe
the Masters insisted would make them richer too.

Barely grippable, beyond the grasp of most ordinary minds,
the last words for the day began to fade away as the wood
over-closed the lead within. There was no safety now,
the eraser would tear a hole with its sharp metal edges;
and someone might read and wonder how one who clasped
the barrel with such passion would run out of resources and stop
mid-thought.

But the paragraph ended, though we are not sure forever, and read,
barely, with the yellow paint a shadow of the pale gray letters:

I resign my…hope….…..future…fix furnace…warm beaches…
…..prayer……wonders or not……return……when………
day….sinks…plumbing repaired. Prayer.

Signed,
(barely legible)

I Will Do Anything

“I will do anything you ask of my Father in my name. In that way the Son will make my Father's name great.” John 14:13

There is a current television ad that features a person who has just had an accident with their car. They look around, sing the “State Farm” jingle, and just like a genie in a bottle, the insurance representative appears on scene. Not only does he take care of their automobile, but it seems he has unlimited power to supply fast food and reunite families. If only solving my problems were as easy as whistling the right tune.

How Bold

How Bold?

(“For the Spirit that God has given us does not make us timid; instead, his Spirit fills us with power, love, and self-control.” 2 Timothy 1:7)

I suspect there are many who feel they do not need this verse. I would be the first to agree. There are whole groups of people who have no problem with timidity at all. They demand a new room in a motel of the sheets are the wrong size, or boldly jump the line at the grocery store without a glance back at the mother behind them, laden with packages, children and a purse hanging somewhere from her arms or shoulders.