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.