Waiting

Not a bad word necessarily.
Though we may think of

Waiting rooms
And bureaucracy,

Pregnant people also are
Waiting for new life

With hope
With joy and expectation.

Who Lives on the Holy Hill?

I was not thinking of much,
Singing along with the Psalm playing,
When I had a moment of surprise conviction.

O LORD, who shall sojourn in your tent?
Who shall dwell on your holy hill?
He who walks blamelessly and does what is right
And speaks truth in his heart;
Who does not slander with his tongue
And does no evil to his neighbor,
Nor takes up a reproach against his friend.

If it was up to me or you,
There would be only one
Who lives on the holy hill.

I take his righteousness,
The truth he speaks from his heart,
And put it on, that I, too, may live on the holy hill.

Giggle of Glee

My son, waiting for his birthday,
Found it hard to settle down to sleep.

Midnight came and went, and still
He chattered and fidgeted.

Phil called him to come. Since the date had changed,
Phil wished him a happy birthday.

“Wow!” said my son. “I can’t believe
That I stayed up all night!”

And he giggled with glee that
His birthday had arrived so easily.

In the Hospital

This new hospital is like a hotel:
Great lighting, nice trim around each door,
Beautiful, bright colored art all the way down the long hall.

I was cheerful when I started this walk down the hallway,
A bit nervous to see my friend again,
Uncertain what I would find.

And suddenly I was overwhelmed
That my friends have made a similar walk
Every day for three months.

A retreat center has the feel of
Accumulated prayers and worship,
A feel of rest and God’s presence.

A hospital has the feel of
Accumulated trauma,
A feel of fear and distress.

By the end of the hallway,
I was almost in tears.
My friend wasn’t quite ready for visitors.

I had fifteen minutes to compose myself.
To read and write and re-center.
And then I went in.

Your Face

For to see your face is like seeing the face of God.

I had not thought, truly,
That I would see you again.

And I love you enough that I had peace about that.
I prayed that you would go with God.

So it was a gift to me to see your face again,
Even though you turned away in distress.

Kinsman-Redeemer

In a world of broken relationships,
Of bondage and grief and debt,

Comes the agency of the
Closest blood relative,

Offering freedom and hope and payment,
Offering protection and succor.

We have a kinsman-redeemer who does all this,
Our older brother, Jesus.

In the Midst of a Celebration

I found out that a friend, divorced last year,
Had his girlfriend move in a few months later.
I absorbed this news and enjoyed the party,
But as I drove home, I was deeply troubled.

This was a new kind of grief,
Where I felt such compassion for his almost two decades
Of challenging marriage, for the deep hurt
That would drive a person to pursue a life

In contradiction to his professed former beliefs.
I grieved for his parents, his children. I groaned to God.
This felt like the right response,
As I drove home through the sunlit green trees.