In Jesus’ parable of the sower.
Some seed fell on the path.
Birds devoured it.
Birds symbolize demons.
Seed symbolizes the Word,
Jesus.
The birds recognize the seed
Even when the path does not.
And the seed is undiminished
By digestion. Many plants grow
From the waste of birds.
The Word goes out
Undiminished.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Tantrum
Some weeks ago, Caleb, wishing for his way,
Lay on the floor and drummed his heels.
I called the brothers to watch this tantrum,
A part of child development that each son attempts once.
We all laughed, and Caleb, on his dignity, stopped.
He hasn’t tried again.
I think about that display of frustration.
We stood around this little man
As he tried to figure out how the world works,
And we all loved him, despite his naughtiness.
We all want good things for him,
And have compassion on his sorrow.
I wonder if, after we are glorified, we will look back on our lives
With fondness, even for the stumbling bits,
Knowing that we were mostly doing the best we could.
I wonder if even the failures will seem both petty and precious.
Lay on the floor and drummed his heels.
I called the brothers to watch this tantrum,
A part of child development that each son attempts once.
We all laughed, and Caleb, on his dignity, stopped.
He hasn’t tried again.
I think about that display of frustration.
We stood around this little man
As he tried to figure out how the world works,
And we all loved him, despite his naughtiness.
We all want good things for him,
And have compassion on his sorrow.
I wonder if, after we are glorified, we will look back on our lives
With fondness, even for the stumbling bits,
Knowing that we were mostly doing the best we could.
I wonder if even the failures will seem both petty and precious.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
The Happy Dance
In college, I would do a little dance
When it was my turn to open the mail at work.
I realized today that this is not a learned behavior.
Caleb, when he is about to get something
He really, really wants,
Laughs and stomps his feet,
Enormous grin on his face.
The happy dance.
A human condition.
When it was my turn to open the mail at work.
I realized today that this is not a learned behavior.
Caleb, when he is about to get something
He really, really wants,
Laughs and stomps his feet,
Enormous grin on his face.
The happy dance.
A human condition.
Baby Hospitality
When a guest arrives,
Caleb claps and waves.
Sometimes he runs to,
Sometimes he runs away.
He is not neutral.
Caleb claps and waves.
Sometimes he runs to,
Sometimes he runs away.
He is not neutral.
A Riff on Psalm 56
Put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?
This I know, that God is for me.
I think of my friend’s tears,
A stream welling from deep within.
Tears captured in a bottle,
Tears and tossings recorded in a book.
God sees them, holds them, records them, carries them.
The God who is for me.
The God who delivers my feet from stumbling
That I may walk before God
In the light of life.
Why Would God Do That?
Two weeks ago, I was compelled
To pick poison ivy at a friend’s house.
I missed the first day I intended to go,
But rejoiced at a second chance,
And pulled a bag of the horrible vine,
While we chatted and laughed together.
Two days later, I had a rash on my wrist,
And small patches on my face and neck.
I am no stranger to the long-lasting, itchy welts,
And wasn’t surprised. I dealt with it.
My friend, though, was undone.
This minor irritation for me left her
Guilt-stricken, almost in tears.
I tried to reassure her that I felt compelled to do this.
“God told me to do it. Do not have guilt.”
“But why would he do that?”
Because you planted a beautiful garden with your mother,
And simply didn’t recognize that it was directly on the vine,
And I want you to have a beautiful garden to enjoy.
Because I am not highly reactive and this will soon fade.
Because you have enough on your plate as it is,
And it is more joyful to serve another than to wrestle through alone.
Because obedience is not always free from repercussions.
Because sometimes we receive grace and it hurts to do so.
Why would he do that?
I don’t know. But I have some guesses.
To pick poison ivy at a friend’s house.
I missed the first day I intended to go,
But rejoiced at a second chance,
And pulled a bag of the horrible vine,
While we chatted and laughed together.
Two days later, I had a rash on my wrist,
And small patches on my face and neck.
I am no stranger to the long-lasting, itchy welts,
And wasn’t surprised. I dealt with it.
My friend, though, was undone.
This minor irritation for me left her
Guilt-stricken, almost in tears.
I tried to reassure her that I felt compelled to do this.
“God told me to do it. Do not have guilt.”
“But why would he do that?”
Because you planted a beautiful garden with your mother,
And simply didn’t recognize that it was directly on the vine,
And I want you to have a beautiful garden to enjoy.
Because I am not highly reactive and this will soon fade.
Because you have enough on your plate as it is,
And it is more joyful to serve another than to wrestle through alone.
Because obedience is not always free from repercussions.
Because sometimes we receive grace and it hurts to do so.
Why would he do that?
I don’t know. But I have some guesses.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Almost Fainting
There are big things happening right now.
Brotherly affection in my house.
A logjam in healing in a far place.
Looming unemployment.
I was praying about the first of these recently
And the verse came to mind that says,
“This kind only comes out through prayer and fasting.”
I don’t fast when pregnant. Nor when nursing.
The nutritional needs for the child make it so, so painful.
But I could not shake the verse,
So I spent 24 hours, from the conclusion of one dinner
To the commencement of the next,
Without eating.
Man does not live on bread alone,
But on every word that descends from the mouth of God.
It was so hard, it brings me to tears just remembering.
I felt faint.
I thought over and over,
This is the level of intensity that I long for things to be made right.
I feel it in my gut, in my body.
I feel it before I eat,
And then, when I started to eat again and felt ill for hours,
Ill like morning sickness,
So ill that I lay in bed and moaned …
Hear this moaning, oh, Lord.
Act on behalf of your people.
Brotherly affection in my house.
A logjam in healing in a far place.
Looming unemployment.
I was praying about the first of these recently
And the verse came to mind that says,
“This kind only comes out through prayer and fasting.”
I don’t fast when pregnant. Nor when nursing.
The nutritional needs for the child make it so, so painful.
But I could not shake the verse,
So I spent 24 hours, from the conclusion of one dinner
To the commencement of the next,
Without eating.
Man does not live on bread alone,
But on every word that descends from the mouth of God.
It was so hard, it brings me to tears just remembering.
I felt faint.
I thought over and over,
This is the level of intensity that I long for things to be made right.
I feel it in my gut, in my body.
I feel it before I eat,
And then, when I started to eat again and felt ill for hours,
Ill like morning sickness,
So ill that I lay in bed and moaned …
Hear this moaning, oh, Lord.
Act on behalf of your people.
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