This Has Been My Life

I cry.

I hurt.

I rage.

I’m sad.

Disturbed.

Broken.

But now, this morning.

I’m clear:

Now is not the time.

To indulge such things.

Lest they capture me.

And hold me captive.

Way too long.

Now is the time to remember.

Who I am.

What I’m about.

I am a man of God.

By God’s grace, alone.

And servant of Christ.

This has been my life.

My hope.

My being.

I’m also a rank sinner.

Full of self.

Thoughts terrible, to even shame hell.

Such things burden my soul.

I’ve failure enough to fill a book.

But grace is the larger story.

Bookending all that I am.

Holding me close to the great mysteries.

Faith, hope, and love.

So, here I am.

Darkness at the edges.

Light there, too.

I reach … 

At the tip of my fingers.

Something.

I see it, cloudy and dark.

Bright and opaque.

Sheer and shiny.

Rumbling and grumbling.

Roaring and crying.

Cooing and singing.

My destiny?

It’s my heritage.

What I’ve been is my guide.

To announce good news.

Noting cheap about it.

Hard won and bloody.

Cradles and crosses.

Disciples and dust.

Terror and tombs.

But good news.

The Spirit of God.

Wrestling with this crooked world.

And the likes of you and me.

The Spirit of God.

Still hovering over the dark waters.

To bring out something.

Something right and bright.

Good and wholesome.

Something bursting with fecundity.

Which is a good word, I think.

Something ready to get and to give.

Well, enough of that.

That’s my story morning glory.

To be what I am.

And I’d say the same to you.

Care and cry.

But don’t lose your story.

To God forever.

We belong.

You me, together.

God Enters Our Lives Through Our Wounds

"God enters our lives through our wounds," writes my friend.

This came to me this morning in a paper written for a study group meeting later today via Zoom.

These words fit my world well ... I've often wondered why God didn't fully heal my wounds, but I've learned over the years that my wounds have kept me humble.

I'm given to arrogance, spiritual and intellectual, but wounds mitigate that tendency, wounds that still seep and hurt.

Paul's "thorn in the flesh," whatever that may have been, was God's tool to keep an otherwise brilliant man, a man given to spiritual/intellectual arrogance, open to God's mercy and sensitive to the human condition.

I've thought in recent years - this is why the resurrected body of Jesus still bore the ugly wounds - the broken bones of his ankles and wrists, the spear thrust beneath his ribs, a forehead marked by the thorns. I think Jesus walked with a limp.

Even the son of God needed to be wounded, even in the state of resurrection, as to never be tempted to spiritual arrogance.

Calvin said, "We all walk with a limp." We have to walk a bit more slowly in our spirit, and it's harder to run away from God.

"By his bruises (wounds) we are healed," writes Isaiah 53.5. Those bruises are a passageway from the heart of God to the soul of humankind ... and in our daily walk with others, our own wounds become a similar passageway, from one to another - the healing balm of mercy, kindness, truth and justice.

God enters our lives through our wounds, and through our wounds, God enters the world.

Mother's Day Thoughts

On a more serious note, let's remember that women across the globe are victims of the male hierarchy, men who believe that equality given to women is a diminution of the equality of men, and besides, if given the vote, women will vote for people who'll "redistribute wealth" (horror of horror), and if given political power, will enact humane laws.

Sadly, some women buy into the male hierarchy, the male Oligarchy, failing to see what a hellish price they pay, never to be accepted as human beings, but only to be used as political pawns, trophy wives, and discarded when no longer "beautiful" or useful.

On this Mother's Day, it's vital that we see the larger picture, the depths of discrimination in nearly every culture, where women are only to be seen as mothers and wives, and never to be heard.

Such attitudes are a violation of every thing sacred. I pray that men will see how diminished and distorted they are when depriving women of their personhood, and how vital is the personhood of everyone to the welfare of the earth.

Mother's Day, a time to recognize women for all that they are - certainly many are wives and mothers, but that must never delimit or define their personhood.

A salute to all the women who are nurses and doctors, engineers and city planners, who work on the assembly lines and dig ditches, who wait on tables and teach at universities, who love and sorrow, laugh and cry, in all the transitions and vicissitudes of life ... who are wholly/holy human, reflecting the glory of God's infinite fullness.