You will not

I am always leaving…

But You God

are not.

You do not.

You will not.

I am always leaving

something,

somewhere,

Someone..

But You, God of the Angel-Armies, You do not leave us!

You will not leave us.

 

It is ever my delight

to wander toward You,

You the Promise.

I remember how first You first wooed and lulled me in deep.

And it is ever my joy to learn how to live in light of such a gift as You.

My heart struts and sings where I would break my body endlessly to follow.

To the place where I want nothing but You.

Not blessing,

Not guidance,

Not anything

But You.

 

My heart twists in its old flames.

It writhes in yesterday´s affections

But in you Lord,

my heart is made capable.

´Tis made calm.

Dorothy Sayers said

The people who hanged Christ never, to do them justice, accused Him of being a bore – on the contrary; they thought Him too dynamic to be safe. It has been left for later generations to muffle up that that shattering personality and surround Him with an atmosphere of tedium. We have very efficiently pared the claws of the Lion of Judah, certified Him meek and mild, and recommended Him as a fitting household pet for pale curates and pious old ladies.  

Faintly heard

I can barely hear you.

You´re so very softly spoken…

but alive in my distance.

I find myself grinning, as you are always trying to speak to me.

I wonder…

do you know that I can hear you…

that I´ve always heard you?

If you knew,

then I am yours,

for you have shown me what it is to chase someone with wonder in their steps and wild in their eyes…

what it is to traverse whatever distance necessary,

just to be next to them,

warm whispers and all.

If you knew not of your earshot,

then you are the great Lover indeed,

not needing the promise or even the hint of it returned.

I wonder though…

how you have waited?

The Irish tale of “Stingy Jack”

The Tale of the Jack-o´lantern…

As the story goes, several centuries ago amongst the myriad of towns and villages in Ireland there lived a drunkard known as “Jack the Smith, or “Stingy Jack” as he´s now known. Jack was known throughout the land as a deceiver, manipulator, and otherwise dreg of society. On one fateful night the Devil overheard the tale of Jack’s evil deeds and silver-tongue. Unconvinced (and envious) of the rumors, the Devil went to find out for himself whether or not Jack lived up to his vile reputation.

Typical of Jack, he was drunk and wandering through the countryside at night when he came upon a body on his cobblestone path; the body with an eerie grimace on its face turned out to be the Devil. Jack in a somber mood realized this was his end, the Devil had finally come to collect his malevolent soul. Jack made a last request:

When Love first turned me around

I sit here and wonder

 how you could Love me so

As you stir both my shame and hero.

      This is why you alone can say…”Hang on.”

I buckle and bend beneath this weight.

I know this fallen place…and here I’d stay…

       but I am served and survived by Your fate.

      This is why You alone can deliver me.

You left your kids in confidence one day to run and play

and then came home to find them dying. 

That’s what you do…

My first memories unfortunately had words in them, but I had no use for them in this place. I struggled even then to fall into someone. If I fell, I would hurt, and if I hurt, then I would want to hide, and if I hid, then I might not be found…and simple logic is as simple logic does.

I still toss confidence in the wind, let it circle my truer colors, hoping to be discovered, but hoping more to be explored. But you always held me…with your eyes, with your arms and with your hope.

Through a rosy lens I would brave the world to keep from graying up, I often fell into you…

clumbsy affections

Scottish flowers

They called to me long before I ever knew their voice.

They bade me in trust and welcome…

and I found them.

Just as sure as they had called to me…

Russian storytelling

Three hermits lived on an island together. Their prayer of intimacy and Love was simple like they were simple. “We are three; you are three; have mercy on us. Amen.” Miracles sometimes happened when they prayed this way.

The bishop, however, hearing about the hermits, decided they needed proper guidance in prayer, and so he went to their small island. After instructing the monks, the bishop set sail for the mainland, pleased to have enlightened the souls of such simple men.

Suddenly, off the stern of the ship he saw a huge ball of light skimming across the ocean. It got closer and closer until he could see that it was the three hermits running on top of the water. Once on board they said to the bishop, “We are sorry, but we have forgotten some of your teaching. Would you please instruct us again?” The bishop shook his head and replied meekly, “Forget everything I have taught you and continue to pray in your old way.”    

Leo Tolstoy

An Irish Poem

My face in thine eyes

 thine in mine appears.

And true plain hearts do in their faces rest.

Whatever dies was not mixed equally

If our two Loves be one…

Were thou and I so alike…

then none could second,

       none could die.            

The shortest (and most Christ-like) Fairytale ever…

Once upon a time a strong and handsome Prince met a beautiful and inspiring Princess.

He asked her to marry him…

She said no!

And they both lived happily ever after.

amen.