Drink Offering

Drink Offering

Poured out
of a body,
a life
weak
weary
lungs surge and struggle
for breath
heart pounds febriley.

But the wounded
drink offering
pours out health
speaking truth
life
into lives broken with
unhealth
that goes beyond bodies.

Poured out
into thirsty sand
onto parched
cracked clay
into withered, dusty lives.

Living Sacrifice.

Spiritual act of Worship.

Eloi, Eloi

“Eloi
Eloi
lama sabacthani!”
the Lamb cries
in cold darkness

And I,
trembling with
terror and despair,
cry out,
“My God, my God,
Why have You forsaken me?
Where are You?
Why are You so far?
Have You forgotten me?
abandoned me?
lost me?
Eloi
Eloi
lama sabacthani?”

And in my own deepest darkness
I turn my head
just a little
and there He hangs
•
Jesus
•
crying out in my darkness
crying out my words
with me.

And in my terrible night blackness
I’ve never crouched
crowded
cowered
closer to Him,
found
hiding in His shadow
as He hangs
stretched out
before an empty sky.

Furthest from Heaven
I am closest to Jesus
and His cross.

And He is there.

Teacher’s Lament in May

••••

Teacher’s Prayer in May

Teacher’s prayer in May

Grandmother, Interrupted at 98

Grandmother, Interrupted at 98

Living on Welfare

“You know–”
the pursestring tightened his mouth
into thin grimness,
“If we give away
too many
Thanksgiving baskets,
That Sort will start to think
that church is just
one big handout.”

His silent “harrumph”
zzzzzipped the purse shut.

Oh. My. God.
(oh my merciful, gracious God)

That’s it!

If the church isn’t
one big handout
what is it?

One big Glorious handout
week after week
year after year…
the Great Giveaway!

One big handout
to us
wretched
pitiful
poor
blind
naked
souls
who NEVER
exceed the need
for the Glorious handout.

Frankly,
if the church ISN’T the
Biggest Handout of All Time
I don’t belong there.

Debriding the Wound

He gently shifts the settled sands,
exposing things
that,
if left to rot,
would leach poison
into the well
of who I am
for years to come.

The pain and despair
blazes out in me
when I touch
those spots.

But already
the air
the Spirit
the gentle words of
others who have walked
in woundedness,
walked in wholeness.
All
drying out
those weeping wounds

and
healing

little

by

little.

Advent

Advent

A Child’s Heart

A CHILD’S HEART

Last week we were privileged to glimpse a bit of a child’s heart.

Hannah’s Arms

(I Samuel 1 & 2)