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.

Reading The Bible by Barth

Reading Barth, I learn again: How to read the Bible.

It's advice I've given to others when it comes to reading about marriage and life: 

Never read for the sake of other, to find out who or what they may be, and then to say, or at least to think, "Ah ha, that's you, for sure!"

Rather to read about me, to find out who I am, and maybe even why.

Because, as Barth notes in his sermon, from Proverbs, "In our own eyes, we're always righteous," and I would add, "Maybe not always so righteous, but a heck of a lot more than the slob down the street."

With that in mind, the Psalm of the Daily Lectionary (36) caught my attention powerfully: with several "moves" - first, my transgressions and things related ... sure, I'd be happy to note such things regarding others, but if Scripture is going to be transformative, it's me that it's reading, first off.

Then, the second move: God's steadfast love, which does the weighing of my spirit, and finds me wanting, which is the truth, but in that steadfast love, there is hope, peace and even redemption. Even as God says "No" to me, as God must and God will, it's only to stop me in my tracks, put a halt to my self-righteous ruin, that I might hear God's "Yes."

Then, gratitude and praise. God is good.

With a move within that move: Such goodness is precious, and within that, a move about God's provisioning ... God supplies what's needed ... as a fountain of life ... and then another small move: "in your light, we see light," which really isn't so small after all.

And, finally, a plea for preservation and perseverance ... though there be dangers all around (including the danger of my own self-righteousness) in circumstance and persons, God will see me through.

And, you, too!

The very young Karl Barth!