Foxhole Mentality

During World War II,
Soldiers would dig foxholes
And hunker down into them,
Waiting for the first hint
Of enemy fire...
Waiting to take cover from
That enemy ambush,
Sniper fire,
Grenade explosion,
Or tank attack.

I was eight when my dad
Started getting sick.
That was the beginning
Of my foxhole mentality.

Always waiting
For the next bad thing.
Always waiting
For the other shoe to drop.

Lord,
You have already done so much
To heal my broken thinking,
My anxious anticipation,
My over-analysis and over-worry.
In the weeks and months ahead,
Grant that,
Despite the opposition I may face,
I become a wellspring
Of patience,
And gentle strength,
And happiness,
And hope.
Grant that
I emerge from the foxhole
Into the light
Of a new life,
Part of Your Plan
And the path
You lay before me...

Kid Sister

Beth Israel Emergency Room.
It's funny how,
When someone is ill,
You forget about
All the everyday grievances
You normally hold against them.

Kid sister...
Mommie was always telling me
To look after you
(And she made me feel guilty
All the times that I didn't).
I was six
(Going on sixteen)
When you were born.

You were always different from me.
Different temperament.
Different interests.
Different ways of handling
The same familial stresses.
Different ideas
About how life ought to be lived.

We are not made
Of the same soulstuff,
And yet we are bound,
One to the other,
By familial ties
That El-Shaddai forged
Long before we were born.

Father,
Have mercy on me,
A sinner,
A being of dust and ashes
Trying to navigate
Through the life You have given me.
Hear me, my Lord,
And heal my kid sister,
Part of my family,
Part of me,
Through Your Divine Plan.
You touch us,
And we are healed.
Bless my sister
With that touch,
To the Praise and Glory
Of Your Ineffable Name...

Cannoli Run

8:19 AM.
I am riding the train into work.
In my arms, are a box of cannolis
For the Aussie's ad agency meeting.
My arms are getting tired.
More and more people
Are pressing into me.
I'm trying to keep the box from being crushed
By protecting it with my body.
I am mildly annoyed that I have no seat.
The thought in my head has tone:
"Can't wait to give these cannolis
To the Aussie."

8:20 AM.
My cell phone rings.
It is the Aussie.
Can I bring the cannolis
To Manhattan.
Can I stop at the office first,
Do this and that,
Coordinate this, email that,
Schedule that finance meeting
That was pushed off from Tuesday,
Then get back on the train
And bring her the cannolis.

Of course. Of course.

Even as it's happening,
And I am agreeing,
I am laughing at myself,
And God is laughing at me, too.

Beneath the laughter,
A message from Him:
"You will go as far as I tell you to go.
Despite the difficulty,
You will go where I tell you,
When I tell you.
Trust Me.
It's all part of the plan."

Even to Manhattan, Lord?
To Ahwatukee?
To Bogotá, perhaps?

I am suddenly not laughing,
Realizing, instead,
That the life I lead is
Indeed not my own,
But His...

8:21 AM.
This is how
He reaches me best,
With real-life examples and messages
Manifesting in my everyday.

Lord,
Thank You that
I wasn't carrying something heavier,
Like a tray of cold cuts!...

A New Creation

Lord,
Thank You for
A peaceful resolution.
An acceptable solution.
It's okay. I'm okay. Really.

:)

I hate confrontation.
I hate disagreeing, feeling contrary,
Being difficult, being conflicted.
I would rather swallow my pride -
My sense of right and wrong -
My dignity as a human being -
Than to fight with a loved one.
I hate it all because I remember...

It would go down something like this:
Mommie would get into a fight
That was beyond her ability to control or process.
She'd lock herself away in her bedroom
With a bottle of stomach pills and Valium
In an attempt to recuperate,
To still her frayed nerves
And coax herself out of
The fit she had worked herself into.
She wouldn't eat,
Just emerge for the occasional bathroom break.
This could go on for a day or two.

I remember sneaking open the bedroom door,
Standing in the dark,
And listening for motion or breath,
So afraid that this was it,
I had brought on the stomach bout,
Or heart attack, or nervous breakdown, or stroke
That would incapacitate her.
I remember sneaking the door shut,
Going back into my room,
And lying there,
Often beyond the point of crying.
I would read, or sleep,
Or try talking to You,
But always I would wonder
How the confrontation
Could transform into this.
I would swear up and down,
That I would learn not to aggravate her
Like that again.

How many fights
Did she have with Daddy
Because she caught him in a lie?
I would think to myself,
"He wouldn't lie to you,
If he wasn't afraid of how you'd react."
I never said that, of course.

I have witnessed a similar strain of self-implosion
In my too-tightly-wound sister.
I think she has seen it too,
Because we've joked about it,
And she seems less wound now
Than she ever has before.

Still,
I watch and wait,
Wondering,
Fearful of being the one
To set her off.

Ma,
I love you to the point
Of hardly being able to breathe
As I write this,
But
How many conversations
Did we not have
Because I was afraid of the impact
That my revealing myself to you
Would have on you?
How many times
Did I try to hide things from you
For fear of having to weather
Another of your bouts?
You discovered much of what I concealed,
But not everything.

No, not everything.

My M.O.
Was like Daddy's -
Lie, pray you're not caught,
And if you are,
Duck and run.

How can a person
Live like that,
Beneath layers and layers
Of lies, deceits,
And carefully constructed masks,
Designed to keep people
At arm's length...

The memories of
Former modes of existence
Crept into me just the other night.
I was standing in Adalheid's kitchen,
And she was sitting in front of me,
And I could feel myself pulling away,
Not wanting her near me,
Withdrawing,
For fear of hurting her,
Or being hurt by her.
I went home, was doing dishes,
When suddenly
I remembered a scripture...

"So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift." *

"Really, God?"
Annoyed, I threw the dishes down.
"REALLY?"

I took this as a sign,
Direction from You.

I went back to her house.
We had coffee.
We spoke about the point of contention.
We found a solution
Everyone could live with.
No drama.
No extended, excessive anger.
No screaming.
No destruction, self or otherwise
No guilt.
No brooding.

Later on,
I thought about another scripture:**

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."

Really, Lord?
Brand new?
Sloughing off all the old crap -
All the running away
And withdrawing into myself
And lying and deceit
And telling people what I think they want to hear -
Leaving all that behind
To become...
What exactly?

It is a half-question,
Half-wondering daydream
That hovers in the air
Between You and I...

* Matthew 5:23, 24

**2 Corinthians 5:17

Roadblocks

What can I do
What can't I do
What decisions live with
What decisions make regardless,
And endlessly regret
What path to follow
What to leave behind
What to sacrifice

Lord,
I seek Your Guidance.
Reality is setting in.
Normal people don't do this.
I am being pursued by doubt.
Why was I thinking
This would be easier?

Lord,
I seek Your Face.
Shine on me,
Have Mercy on me,
Lift the darkness around my heart
By the light of Your Countenance.
Forgive the angry, half-formed
Thoughts of my mind.
Show me the right road, Lord,
However narrow
Or fraught with trials
It proves to be...

Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

"What if -"
"But -"
"However -"

The language of doubt -

As more and more people
Find out that I intend to move,
I hear these words more frequently.

I don't know how to explain
That, although my brain is nervous
On the surface,
I am not afraid in my heart.
I don't know how to tell them
About this rising fount of joy,
From deep within me,
That sounds like God saying,
"I'm with you.
I've been with You
Before you began.
I'm behind all of this."

Really, Lord?

There isn't a direct answer,
But I feel the Love.

When you experience
The Eternal Love
Of the Triune God,
Where do you find the time
To cultivate fear?

Building Blocks

Lord,
When our souls
Were in the Before,
And You were putting together
The pieces of my sister and I,
What did You hope to accomplish
By putting such different people
In the same family
As sisters?

Our parents
Constructed a family,
A formidable edifice
That withstood
Illnesses, diasaters, and crises.
They recognized,
From early on,
That our dispositions
Were fundamentally at odds.
They were able to navigate
The oceans of difference
Between us,
Erecting bridges and harbors
To conquer the communication gap.
They're not here
To keep those channels open.
I confess
That I don't know how to.

Neither of us understand
What the other is made of.
Neither of us can converse
With each other
As effectively as we did
With Mommie or Daddy.
Different dreams, different goals,
Different motivations, different soulstuff -
The foundations of our hearts
Have been structured from
Such different ideas and emotions!

Lord,
Help me -
How do I reach her?
Can there be
Any safe common ground
Where we can both stand
And not feel threatened
By the foreignness
We detect in the other?

You are;
You see all things
In an arc,
Beginning to Ending.
Show me why, Lord,
Why it's like this with her,
Why it's so damn hard
So much of the time.
Show me where I make it hard,
And teach me not to.
Show me meaning, Lord,
Any gleaning of knowledge
So that I may understand
The why behind it all.

Eli,
Put the right thoughts in my head.
Put the right words in my mouth.
Move me in the right paths.
We are the work
Of Your Hands,
O Lord,
Master Craftsman,
Architect Divine!

Comfort

Lord,
Death ever stalks abroad,
Claiming yet another life.

We know
That all lives come to an end.

The knowing
Doesn't make the grieving
Any easier.

Lord,
As Elohim, You are Creator,
Forming us out of the dust of the earth.
As El-Shaddai, You are God Almighty,
Establishing Your sovereignty over all creation.
As Jah, You are Redeemer,
The ever-present savior of our lives.
As Jehovah, You reveal Yourself
As He who was, and is, and is to come.
As Jesus, You are Emmanuel,
God with us,
Humbling yourself
And offering yourself
As the sacrifice
For the sin-debt we have incurred
So that we may be saved.

There is progression here,
And promise,
And hope.

With each new revelation
Of Yourself,
We see more personal interaction
With us.
We see You moving
From the macro -
The creation of all that we know -
To the micro -
Coming to us as one of us.
We see involvement.
We see substitution.
We see tangible love
Played out in the human sphere.
We see,
And respond,
And hope.

Lord,
In these days when my friend
Lays her mom to rest,
We pray that You uphold her
Through the weight of her grief.
In the days to come,
We pray that you continue to uphold her,
And give her comfort and peace.
Let her see beyond
This life, this flesh,
To the place where You are,
Where her mother is transformed
And life begins anew.

How long, O Father?
How long before death
Is vanquished,
And we are revealed
As You desired for us
Since before the world began?
We eagerly await
Sin's conquering,
Death's death,
And the universe's rebirth.
Let the Joy pent up
From Creation's Fall
Burst forth
As we greet those
Asleep in You
And risen in Christ.
Deliver us, Father,
That we may abide with You.
Comfort us, Father,
As we seek refuge from
The power of sin,
And the separation of death...

Before And After

O My Lord,
I give You thanks and praise
For the blessing
Of my best friend.

In the Before before Creation,
Did you fashion
The bond between us,
The conversation
That needs no words,
The home and souls that
I am at rest with?
In the Before before Creation,
Did You say,
"I forge this bond,
And declare it so,"
So that I would know
And recognize
And experience
A manifestation of
Your goodness
And steadfast love
Towards me?

I mean no sacrilege,
But I can believe in You
More strongly
Because I have been upheld by a
Love without pretense
Or strings attached.
I can feel the neuroses
And mishegoss
Slipping away from me
Beneath her honest touch.

Father,
I pray, I beg You,
Preserve her life
On this earth
For many more years to come.
Preserve the quality
Of her life,
And give me the strength
To survive
Whatever You present her with.

In the After when Creation
Is transformed anew,
And we are revealed
As we truly are,
May I stand before Your Throne
And sing Your Praises,
An eternal Hallelujah
For the goodness You have shown me,
And the gifts You have freely given me.
May I bear witness
To Your steadfast love,
Testifying that I have known
What it is be known and truly loved
Before time began,
As time progressed,
And after time ends...

Psalm 23* - A Life's Reading

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
(The Lord God Almighty -
The Triune Godhead who made
The Universe
And everything in it -
He watches over me.
He knows in advance
Everything that I need,
And he provides for those needs
Abundantly.)

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
(When life overwhelms me,
And I'm perishing beneath
The Adversary's assaults,
He picks me up
And holds onto me
Tighter than I have the ability
To conceive of.
He plucked me up
Out of a Bogotá orphanage
And dropped me into
The laps of my parents.
He helped me move past
The grief and guilt and anger
Of my parents' untimely deaths.
He clams me and stills me
When that brain of mine
Races along mental paths
Better left untread.)

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
(I have messed up my life
Many times over.
I have made choices
That hurt not only myself,
But others as well.
I confess my sins -
All my sins -
To You, O My God,
And pray that You continue to do
What You have done before -
Bring good out of the bad,
And joy out of the sorrow,
Because truly, truly
I don't intend to harm,
But I don't always know
The good from the bad.
Only you can take what is bad
And turn it into good,
And I am grateful for the good
You have reaped
From the evil
I have sown.)

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
(I know alot about
This particular valley,
Because I feel like I have died
A thousand different kinds of deaths...
The deaths of loved ones,
People and pets alike...
The deaths of homes,
And the security
That they provide...
The smaller deaths that accompany
Loss of trust in another,
Relationship breakups,
Friendships gone bad,
Financial hardship,
And burying dreams.
Yet,
You're in this valley, too.
Transforming emotions
And lessons learned
Into guideposts and maps
For the rest of my life's journey.
You chase away
My fear of the dark
And the unknown;
Even though I don't do it
Every night,
I can sleep with the light off.)

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
(You have given me
A family and a life
I wouldn't have known
Had I not been adopted.
You have given me
People who are
Blessings in my life.
You have given me
Pets to love and be loved by.
You have given me
A decent brain
To get me through school,
Enabling me to win scholarships,
Because I couldn't have gone otherwise.
You have given me
Apartments and jobs,
Shelter and sustenance.
You have gotten me
Out of hot water
When I didn't deserve it.
You have given me gifts
Of words and music
With which I will
Sing Your praises
All of my days.)

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
(Father,
You alone have sustained me
Thus far.
You have dealt lovingly
And patiently with me
Through all the rebellion,
The doubting,
The questing
And questioning.
No matter how far
I've tried to run,
The journey keeps
Bringing me back
To You.
Now,
I actively seek
Your Face
And Your Voice.
Eli, Eli!...
Guide me.
Grant me enough stillness
To hear You.
Direct me
In the ways that
I should go.
And when the end comes,
Take me home
To be with You,
To know You fully,
And to sing
Before Your Throne
For all eternity!...)

*KJV

Kol Yaweh

Lord,
I'm not really sure
What's going on
Between You and I
These past few weeks.
I feel trapped somewhere between
My desires and dreams
And trying to discern Yours.

This is all about Arizona;
It's like,
The voices shouting
About the move
Are drowning everything out,
Even You.
I feel restless and anxious,
Guilty at the thought
Of being so far from my family,
But also excited at the idea
Of a fresh start,
A new adventure.
There is an undertow
Pulling at me
Beneath all this...
"How do you know
That this is what God wills for you?"

Lord,
Is this Doubt that's
Insinuating itself,
Masquerading as
A genuine, spiritual check,
Or is it a check,
Put in place by the Holy Spirit,
Saying that this is not my path?
The strain of the not knowing
Is wearing on me spiritually,
Turning me cold inside.
I haven't been praying as much.
I haven't been reading every day
On the train.
I feel bottled up,
Seeking release,
Bound by many
Unnamed and half-formed
Misgivings and emotions.

On the day when Adalheid told me
About the pending move,
I asked You to speak to me
About the concerns I had.
I was worried about work,
And the loss of knowledge
Resulting from my leaving.
That very morning,
The Aussie commissioned me
To begin a manual
For the team.
I was worried about
Not knowing how to drive.
That night,
Before Godspell began,
My sister asked me if I wanted
To take driving lessons with her
In the new year.

Was it You speaking to me
Out of the tornado of my thoughts?

The situation with my family
Weighs heaviest on me.
I don't know how they will react
And the anticipation
Of the reaction
Is always what makes me collapse.
Half my battles have been lost
Before they were even begun
Because of fear of
Someone else's reaction.
It is true what Adalheid says:
I do feel guilty
About separating from my family,
But why do I feel like this?

When I moved out
At the age of twenty,
It was amidst much anger and resentment.
Through mutual consent,
The family and I
Broke off completely.
Although we eventually reconciled,
There is still that unspoken resentment there.

Yes,
I left home in pursuit of things
That I now recognize the impermanence of;
Some people need to learn
The hard way,
And I was one of those people
In that situation.
But my leaving home
Didnt change the course
Of my life only.
If I hadn't left home,
My sister wouldn't have met
Her fiancé.
For better or for worse,
Those two are stuck together for life.

Lord,
Was that, too, part of the plan,
The good coming out of
What was otherwise
A less-than-wonderful, semi-suicidal mission?

When David had Uriah killed,
And claimed Bathsheba
For his own,
You eventually made him see
The depths of his sin.
He was chastised,
And laid low,
But not for forever;
Out of that union,
Solomon was born.

When Joseph was imprisoned
For crimes he did not commit,
He held on to his faith
In You,
And was rewarded for his faithfulness
By bringing his family
Out of famine, and into Egypt.
His brothers had intended
To do him harm,
But You meant it for good.

So I guess
Whether we mess up,
Or messed up things
Are happening to us,
You mean it for good?
So even if my going to Arizona
Is not what You had intended,
You will bring good out of that?
Or does it not even matter
Where I am,
Because everywhere I can go,
There You will be?

Lord,
Still me
Long enough
So that I can hear
Your Voice
Speak to me
Out of the whirlwind.
Still me...
Still me.
I ache for
The calm, knowing Voice
I have heard before.
Speak to me, Lord,
Please.
A word from you
Can calm
The storms
That rage
Within me...

Hallelujah

There we stood,
In a courtroom in the
Theodore Roosevelt US Courthouse,
Surrounded by portraits of judges
And paintings of Pilgrims and Native Americans.
As we waited for the judge,
And I looked around
At the sea of faces
Waiting to be naturalized,
I couldn't help but smile.
My sister was sitting on a side bench,
Looking exhausted,
Showing every leg of
The four-year journey
That had brought her here.
I wondered what was going through her mind.
I wondered if she was wondering
If our parents were on hand
To witness the culmination
Of countless hours of
Emails and phone calls and research
And emotional turmoil that led us
To this moment.

Lord,
Creator of the Universe and
Sustainer of our lives,
I give you thanks and praise
For my sister,
Brought from afar
And grafted into the family
In the same manner as I.
We are different,
She and I,
But Your Hands
Crafted us both,
And I know that You
Joined us in the same family
For purposes only You know.

My Lord God,
You have worked,
And continue to work
Wondrous deeds in my life,
And the lives of those
Close to me.
Thank You for my family,
And for navigating us through
The really rough times.
Continue to guide and protect
Each of us
As we journey through our lives
And ultimately home to You.
Praise to You, Lord God,
For Your Lovingkindness,
For the Breath of Your Mercy
And Steadfast Love
That braces us against
The assaults of the Adversary.
Praise to You, Lord God,
For the unfolding of
The mysteries of our lives,
And the blessings you shower on us
Every day that we open our eyes.
What are we, that You
Even think about us?...
Yet I know that You are there,
Active, involved, moving
Through our lives.
May my life forever testify
To Your Presence,
And my lips ever sing
Songs of grateful praise!

Bittersweet

My sister and I inherited
Our family's summer home
Nestled in the green valley
Of Wurtsboro Hills.
The house has been used as a getaway
For many years.
During the winter months,
We close it down.
We antifreeze the pipes,
Turn off the heat,
And, like a bear, it hibernates,
Awaiting the return of spring.

We went up last weekend
To shut it down for the season.
I hadn't yet been up this year,
And had defended my reluctance
With a volley of commitments
And responsibilities
That needed tending to.
The truth, though, is that
I subconsciously avoid the house
Because when I enter
I journey through shadows.
I feel like a wraith,
Encountering the memories
Of people and places and times
That have crossed over.

I see my father's accordion,
And remember him playing
Roll Out the Barrel.
(I was the only five-year-old
Who could whip out a polka
With the best of them!)
I see my mother's Writer's Digests;
She was always talking about
Someday writing a book,
But someday never came
Soon enough for her.
I see my grandfather's instruments here,
Artifacts from a life
Lived and died
Before I was even born.
I hear my grandmother
Telling me stories about him -
About the night he was babysitting my mother,
And shot out the streetlights
With his shotgun
In order to amuse her.
My grandmother was a treasure trove
Of family stories;
Even now, I can see her
Sitting on the screen porch,
A cigarette in one hand,
And a cup of coffee in the other.
Pieces of our first home
Are here too,
Singed relics that somehow
Managed to survive
A three-alarm fire.

My sister has mentioned
That she might like to
Live there someday.
She will be able to layer
The memories of the house
With her own life
And all that it entails.

As for me...
It is too bittersweet.
There are too many parts
Joy and pain
That it brings
To the surface.

Lord,
You know and understand
The forces shaping
Both my sister's future
And mine.
Help us navigate
These months and years ahead.
Help us see and realize
Your plan for us,
However physically distant we are,
And however bittersweet
The memories and
The separation may be...

Ruth

But Ruth said, "Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you." And when Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more. (Ruth 1:16-18)

Lord,
Yesterday did not begin
The way I thought it would.
Adalheid has told me,
For as long as she has known me,
That she and her family would someday
Be moving to Arizona.
We had spoken about
Me going with them
When that time came
As a reality
To be taken for granted.
"Someday," in my head,
Was in a number of years.

Someday has been accelerated
To within the next year.

Of course,
I had an internal, mini nervous breakdown
As the factions of my life
Began warring for dominance
In my head.
Family. Pets. Jobs. Apartment.
Church. Personal crusades.
The doubts and misgivings and petty thoughts
Cycloned in my mind
Until I thought I would explode.
I panicked, and the workday
Was a roller coaster ride
Of emotions
Better left alone.

After lunch,
I entertained daydreams
About the timbre and hue
My life would take on
If Adalheid and the king and the wandering momma
And Fifi and the parrots
Moved...
And I stayed behind.

The idea of that
Was far more than I could face.
Her home
Has become my home.
Her family
Has become my family.
How did all our lives
Become so entwined?

Lord,
Adalheid's presence
Stretches so far beyond
The usual bounds of friendship
That I cannot put it in words.
She is one of the graces
That You have blessed me with;
I am bound to her, Lord,
By a bond so strong and deep
That I tremble before it.
How could I,
In good conscience,
Ever willingly part from her?

Lord,
I am Yours
Before I am anyone else's.
I don't profess to know
What it is
That You have in store for me,
But You led me
To Adalheid and her family,
So I must take it on faith
That You, who knows all things,
And You, who makes all good things,
Are behind these plans.
I humbly ask for
Your Blessing
And Grace,
And Protection,
And Guidance
For all of us
In the months ahead.

Ah, Ruth,
My spiritual ancestor,
You chose faithfulness to Naomi
Over your own comfort and peace of mind.
For your steadfastness,
You were grafted into
The ancestry
Of the Messiah.

Father,
I am Ruth to Adalheid's Naomi.
She is precious to me,
Her and her whole family.
You are Love,
And you have given me
Her and her family
To love
And be loved by.
I will not be afraid
Of the course ahead
Because everything else
Is incidental...

Desert Flower

My Lord God,
Forgive me my sins
And restore my communion with You.
Hear me, Lord,
And help the one
I ask you to tonight.

The Desert Flower blooms
In anger and wrath;
Her petals shake violently
As strong storms batter her.
She grasps the earth
In a tenacious grip,
Hardened by many years
Of struggle and turmoil.
She is angry,
And bitter,
And alone
In her heart.
Her rages spill out of her
Like poison,
Infecting all who
Are caught in its wake.
Her thorns make others bleed;
She is ever on the defensive
Against evils and insults
Real and imagined.

Lord,
Months ago,
She told me
About her youth,
And I saw in an instant
The fount of grief,
The river of wormwood
From which her roots drank
At too tender an age.
I saw
How it had twisted her,
Marring the beauty of her petals,
Scarring too deep for mere words.

Lord,
Father,
You are the Creator of all things,
And You have promised
To restore the barren places.
All things are open before You:
Our hearts,
Our lives,
Our futures.
Father,
I beg You,
Begin the work
Of restoring your Desert Flower
In this life, right now.
Oh Lord,
Let her learn to seek
Deeper drinks
Within You.
Let a measure of
Living Water
Soften her hardness,
Quell her anger,
And teach her it's okay
To let down her guard.
Make her see
That her anger
Cannot forever protect her,
Nor can it save her.
Let Your Love
Burn like the sun,
Nourishing her leaves,
And causing vibrant petals,
Brighter than Solomon's array,
To burst forth.

Lord God,
You give graciously
And abundantly.
I ask You
To heal this Desert Flower,
So that she may see
The Truth and Beauty and Love
That is the Ultimate Reality
Of who You are,
And upon which
The whole Universe is built.
Touch her, Lord.
Heal her, Lord.
Restore her, Lord,
As You have promised to do
To the barren places...

The Undoing

In the first Garden,
Mankind fell.
Rather than
Heeding God's warning,
Adam and Eve chose
Themselves -
Their desires -
Their will -
Over God's.
In the full Light
Of God's Glory
They made this decision.
The consequences
Were disastrous.
Sin and
Death and
Decay
Were introduced
Into the world.
The ground was cursed
To bear thorns
Beneath Adam's touch.
The fugitives were forced
From Eden, barred by the
Cherubim and the Flaming Sword.
Adam and Eve lost communion
With El-Shaddai.
We have been reeling
From the aftershocks
Ever since.

But there is another Garden,
Holy ground where
The mystery of redemption
Began to undo
The damage we had done.
In Gethsemane,
Christ chose His Father's Work
At the expense of
His Own Life.
He wrestled with his desires,
And ultimately subjugated them
To the Will of the Father.
He saw the Big Picture:
The Father's Will...
The Father's Glory.
He knew that the only way
We had a chance
Of standing before God
Was though His Sacrifice.

The heritage of sin-death
Started unraveling that night
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
In the dark night of His Soul,
Facing the astonishing separation
From the Father,
Jesus Christ chose His Father
Over himself.
The decision to eat the apple
Was undone with the utterance
"Not my will, but thine, be done."
The ground that God had cursed
To bring forth thorns
Was redeemed by
The Crown of Thorns
On the Anointed's Head.
The Cross
On which He hung,
Accursed and cut off,
Was the means of becoming
The new Tree of Life.
He passed beneath the Flaming Sword.
The Veil of the Temple
Was torn in two,
A symbol of the Kingdom
Miraculously within arm's reach
For God's People.

We now live
Within that eternal Hope.
Eden's damage
Has been undone.
The world has already begun
The process of being reconciled
To The Almighty.

Everything else that happens moving forward?...

Eden and Gethsemane
Co-exist side-by-side.
Our journeys have become a matter
Of whichever Garden
We choose to stroll in...

Happy Ending...

Lord...
On Saturday,
I made a new friend
At the church Thrift Sale.
She was a delight
To work with.
Smart, witty, funny,
Pleasant - an overall pleasure.
She also happens to be
In her seventies.
Why, oh why, Lord,
Have I always been drawn to
And connected so well with
People so much older
Than I?

You and I know
It has been a constant
Since I was a child.
Although I have friends
Closer to myself in age,
All the friendships
That cut deep
Have been with people
Older than me.
We're not talking about
By a few years;
Usually,
It's by a few decades.

Does it all go back to
Mommie and Daddy
Who turned our home into
A variant Montessori school
With hands-on-everything learning
That accelerated my brain
From early on?
Can it be traced to
The family of my youth;
Five adults, and no other kids
In the house
Until I was six?
Does it stem from grammar school,
And the distrust I developed
For kids my own age
Who enjoyed torturing me?
Does it come from
Experiencing too much
Of life's heartaches
At too young an age?
Is it just me,
An old soul
Chronologically trapped
In the wrong era?

Lord,
You know why
I wrestle with this so.
You know how wearied I am
From burying people,
And how much I dread
The ones to come.
You know I fear
Someday finding myself
Alone.

It's not such a hard stretch
To imagine.
Last man standing,
Last candle blowing out
In the wind of
An emptied life.

Lord...

Lord?...

There is a pause
As I feel Holy Writ
Being breathed into me.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." *

Yes, I know, but -

"Why is there always a 'but'?"
(It is asked in the Aussie's voice,
And I have to laugh.)
"I know you.
I made you.
I take care of you.
Why do you worry
About what you cannot control?"

I can't help myself -

"You can.
You do not,
Because you still do not
Trust Me."

I don't answer.

"Your purpose and mission
Unfold daily.
Follow me,
ME,
Not the fears and misgivings
In your mind.
Your mind
Is still wrapped up in this world.
Your heart,
That sings songs to you
About Me -
Listen to what that is saying."

I still don't say anything.

He continues:
"You love the story.
The story of a human life.
The story of an historic building.
The story of an old nation.
The story of The Ancient of Days.
That's why you are drawn
To people and places and things
Older than you.
There are stories there,
Treasures waiting to be found
And released.
I made you thus.
Yes, it will mean suffering and loss,
But even that
Will be redeemed
In the End."

Suffering and loss.
Yeah, that.

"Look beyond that."

It's hard, God!
I'm a finite being, here!

"No..."
He doesn't say anything else.
Instead, He takes my hand,
And propels me through time,
And I see
The Beginning
And the Ending
And the Unending
That is the Undoing
Of all the tragedy, pain, and sorrow.
I am part of
This epic story,
All the way from my beginning
To my ending
That isn't really an ending,
But a different arc
Of a trajectory
That leads
To Him.
I am not alone.
I have never been,
Nor will I ever be.
It's okay
If I operate out of sync
And out of time
From everyone else.
It's okay
If people go home to Him
Ahead of me,
Because eventually,
We'll be together again.
It's okay,
The suffering
And the loss,
Because even that
Will ultimately be
Undone.

It's okay.

I'm okay.

So what if I'm
The last candle blowing out
In the wind of
An emptied life?
That's only this life,
This perishable, dying life,
And it cannot compare
To the one that someday comes...

* Philippians 4:6

Cohesion

There are teams
That function together
As well-oiled machines,
Who share a kind of group-mind
That allows them to carry on
As a unit.

Lord,
That is not my classified team.

They think and behave
Like the city-states
Of Italy did
Before unification.
Warring factions -
Competing jealousies -
Divisive loyalties -
They withdraw into themselves
When the going gets tough.
They do not listen enough
To advice or instruction.
They are
Quick to argue,
Quick to blame,
Quick to pass the buck.
They don't understand
Management's accountability
For their actions.
They don't understand
How overwhelming it can be
For one sales manager
And one director
And one glorified Gal Friday
To support them
Without becoming drained
In the process.

Lord,
I love the people on my team,
But I sometimes hate
The way that they work.
I hate the beleaguered look
I often see
In the Aussie's eyes.
I am bringing this to You.
I am at a loss.

I exist in a strange position
In that netherworld where
I am not a rep,
But not management either.
I'm the go-to person
For everyone,
Tech support
And Mother Confessor
Rolled into one.
I see the disheartenment of the team.
I see the disheartenment of management.
I myself wrestle between
Frustration and apathy.
If there's anything
I can practically do
To help everyone,
Reveal that to me.
If not,
Then come among us,
I pray.
Come,
And change our hearts
So that we see and acknowledge
One another...
So that we learn
Patience, and endurance, and obedience, and
Brotherly love and affection
For each other.
Make us operate well together, Lord,
A cohesive unit
With members willing and able
To strive for the sake of the team,
And not just for the sake of ourselves...

Birth Mother

Berenice Velez,
I do not know,
And cannot imagine
What it is like
To give a child up
For adoption.

You were 26 years old
At the time.
You gave birth to me
At Our Lady of Bethlehem Hospital
In Bogota, Colombia.
Other than these facts,
I know nothing about you.

Allow me to tell you
A few things about myself.
I am 34 now.
My family is small:
My sister, my cousin and I
Are the only three in our generation.
My aunt is the only one left
From my parents' generation.
I live in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn.
I love animals,
And have three dogs and a cat.
I live down the block
From my best friend,
Who has three parrots, a dog,
An impossible husband,
And a mother with Alzheimer's.
I work for a chain of
Community newspapers.
I love music, books, and writing.
Most importantly,
I am a Child of the Most High God,
Adopted into his family
Through the gift of Christ's salvation.

I discovered I was adopted
After Mommie and Daddy passed away.
I was shocked (naturally)
And a little angry
That they had never told me.
I want you to know, however,
That I was not angry at you.
I wondered, and still do,
Why you chose as you did,
But I wonder out of curiosity,
And not judgment.
I did not feel that I had been abandoned,
As adopted children sometimes do.
On the contrary, I felt blessed
To become part of the family I did.

I probably will never
Seek you out,
For fear of upsetting
Your life as it now is.
I wonder what kind of life you lead.
I wonder if you are well,
And safe,
And happy.
I wonder if you are surrounded
By good family and friends.
I wonder if you had anymore children.
I wonder if you ever wonder
About me.

Berenice Velez,
Mi vida es un regalo,
Y tú eres la dador de este regalo.
Tú tienes mi gracias eterno.
Que sean bendecidos.

1826 Days

Ma...
When I post this writing,
It will be 1826 days
Since I last saw you alive.
You passed suddenly on October 18, 2006.

1826 days
Devoid of
Your brilliance
Your laughter
Your wit
Your hugs...

It may be that
I miss your hugs most.
I felt your love for me
In that touch.
There were no questions,
No doubts,
When your arms wrapped around me.

Sometimes,
The intensity
Of how much I miss you
Flabergasts me
And literally takes my breath away.
I used to wonder
How I would live without you.
We even discussed it
On several occasions;
You expressed similar fears.

Ma,
God has been working
A very strange thing inside me.
I am becoming
Softer
Yet stronger
With the passing years.
I cry easier
Than I ever have before.
I am more perceptive
Of the Divine Presence
At work in my mind.
I am more open to people,
And thus more vulnerable to them.
But crying doesn't leave me
Broken inside anymore.
God's Presence in my life
Is a blessing I joyously welcome,
Rather than a guilt trip
That crushes my soul beneath its weight.
When I interact with others,
It no longer matters
If they take advantage of me or use me,
Because the source of my strength
Is no longer my own reserves.
Rather,
He who created the Universe
Sustains and enlivens me,
And He is Boundless.

There are so many people
In my life now
Who I wish I could share with you.
God has brought bright lights
Into my life,
People who illuminate my path
Whether I am on the mountain,
Or deep in the valley.
There are so many things
I wish I could tell you.
I still sometimes catch myself
In the habit of thinking,
"Oh, I can't wait to go home
And tell Mommie - "
And then I remember.
The missing you
Becomes deeper
And more poignant
With each passing year.
Yet, somehow,
I know
That I must make it through
To the other side of grief.

Ma,
I can't wait
To see you again.
Be waiting for me
When I leave this life
And come Home.

Lord...
Father...
Eli!
You alone know
The secret longings of my heart.
You alone know
How many more days
I have on this earth.
Grant that,
On the day of Your Glory,
I may be
Reunited with my family
That has gone Home to You
Ahead of me.
Abba,
Please,
Have Mercy and let it be so.
Let all the days
That I have to live without them
In this existence
Be eclipsed
By the light of Eternity's endless days
In the next...

Valley Prayer for S

Lord,
After a two week absence,
The intern came back to our offices yesterday.
She had just returned from Haiti,
From the funeral of her older brother
Who I imagine was younger than me.

I don't know how we started talking.
I noted the shock and consternation as she spoke.
"Everything would be okay
If he just came back."

She hasn't slept in over two weeks.
She can't bring herself to listen to music.
She calls his phone.
She walks past his bedroom expecting him to emerge.
She is in that haze of disbelief
I remember all too well.

Her mother is in a bad way.
She won't get out of bed.
She won't eat.

Lord,
We spoke for a long time.
I tried to comfort her
As gently as I could.
I kept asking You
To steer my words.
There were moments
When I felt that prickle
That signaled Your Spirit
At work in me.

It's impossible to tell someone
They will make it to the other side of grief.
They simply learn by doing.
It's a hard lesson to learn.

Father,
Let it be
That my words helped her,
And encouraged her to turn to You.
Let it be
That she sleeps this weekend...
That Your Hand tenderly guides her mom
Out of the pit of despair...
That this family,
Shattered by the tragic death of their only son,
Seeks You in their grief,
And finds Hope in Your Son.
Amen.

Touched

Sometimes I feel God
So clearly
Touching me,
It frightens me.

I think,
"What could You
Possibly want to do
With me?
I am full of
Guilt and shame
For things done
And things not done.
I am conscious of the
Rebellion against You
That hides in my heart.
How is it that You
Could want to be
With me?
How is it that You
Could want to use me
For Your Holy Purposes?

I am unfit!
I am unclean!
I am -"

Before I can think further,
I feel His Hand on my cheek,
And the scar tissue
Where the nails were driven
Presses against me.

"Be still," He tells me.

I quiet
Beneath that touch.
He already knows
Everything I've done
And haven't done...
Everything that's wrong with me,
And broken inside.

His Touch communicates
A promise of wholeness
More completely
Than words ever could.

Dog Walking

My three dogs
Never do what I want them to do
When I take them for a walk.
When I steer them to go left,
They want to go right.
When I want them to hurry up
And cross the street
Because we have the light,
They decide to pause
Or sometimes poop
In the crosswalk.
They manage to step on
Every piece of broken glass.
They hunt for and find
Chicken and pork chop bones,
Tea bags, candy wrappers and bubble gum
Which I then must extricate
From between clenched jaws.

One morning, I lose it.
"What's wrong with you guys?"
I am demanding from my dogs
In the middle of the street
At 6:40 AM.
"Why can't you ever just do
What I want or tell you to do?
Why are you always doing
Bad things?
I'm telling you what to do
To protect you,
Not to ruin your good time!"

The words leave me
And even as I am processing
What I just said,
I can hear that Gentle, Cosmic Laugh
That is not my own
Rise up within me.

The analogies
Are not lost on me.

"Ha ha, okay, God.
Very funny.
You got me."

The dogs stare at me
With their big, liquid eyes,
Wondering why I am
Freaking out and talking to myself aloud.

I love my dogs to bits,
But sometimes I want to cry,
They frustrate me so!

Father,
Is this a glimpse
Into how crazy we must drive You?

Point taken...

A King's Heart

When Ramses was king,
You hardened his heart
Against Your People.
You hardened his heart
So that he would not release them
From slavery in Egypt...
So that Your Wonders and Miracles
Would be all the more glorified
Against the backdrop
Of his oppression
And ruination
At Your Hands. *

Father,
Let it not be so
With the king
Whose kitchen I'm often found in.
Let it be
That You soften his heart,
And give him even the
Smallest portion of the
Holy Compassion
Exhibited by
The True King.

The True King -
Whose Love saves the world -
Hung on a tree,
Cursed and afflicted,
For us.
He drank the cup of Divine Wrath
So that we could approach You.
He suffered
So that we would not have to suffer
An eternity's separation
From You.

You have the Power
To pursue others
And call them to You.
Father, I beg You,
Pursue the king
Through the Power of
Your Son.
Fill him with Holy Patience -
Love for the long haul -
Compassion and caring
For the trials ahead.

Only You
Can truly reshape our hearts.
I lift the king up to You
For molding,
Reshaping,
Teaching,
Filling with Your boundless
Patience and Compassion.
Lead him gently down Your Paths,
O Lord.
Let him know the depths
Of boundless Love so that,
As the moon reflects
The light of the sun,
He can reflect
The Light of Your Son's Heart
Within his own.

* Exodus 11:9

Valley Prayer for T

Lord,
Into your Hands,
I place the burden of my sins -
Sins of omission,
And sins of commission.
Have mercy on me Father;
I am but dust.
Thank you for
The sacrifice of Your Son,
Whose death
Redeems me.
Believing that You forgive my sins
When I confess them to You,
And that our line of connection
Is renewed once more,
I now approach the throne of Grace
To ask for that Grace
To flow into the life of another.

I don't know how
She's keeping it together.
Well, actually, I do -
You're keeping her
From falling apart
At the seams.

It's been a difficult season for her.
Family tragedy,
Illness,
And death
Have stalked her
These many months.
Financial matters
Are taking their toll.
Family obligations abound.
It's hard, Lord.
Really hard.

Father,
We are Your children,
Your ambassadors,
Your priests upon this earth.
We pray for health and healing...
A new, safe home...
The fruitfulness of work for her husband...
A smooth transition for the imminent adoption...
An easing of financial burdens...
And a resolution for other situations
Within this family.
Hear and answer our petitions,
O Merciful One!
We plead for Your Grace,
Not because we are deserving of it,
But because You proclaim Your faithfulness
Towards all who rely on You.

Father,
If there are reasons
For this period of testing
That are beyond our comprehension,
And if it must continue
For awhile longer still,
Then grant her the strength
To endure,
And accept,
And still come through
Smiling at the end.

Whatever I can and ought to do
To help her
Shine into my mind.
I will do it willingly.

Anointed One,
You stand ever before
The Throne of Grace,
Interceding for us. *
Hear me now
As I humbly approach You.
She needs help.
Your help.

Lord God,
Hezekiah walked in Your Ways.
He prayed for deliverance
From illness and certain death.
He was granted healing
And fifteen more years
Were added to his life. **
You are not a static god;
We are ever striving with You,
Working with You,
To accomplish Your Will
On this earth.
I pray, Lord,
That You would lead her
Out of this present valley,
This place of struggle
Where she and her family are walking,
And into the Light of the Son...

* Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. (Romans 8:34) (Author's Note: the words "is interceding" indicate the present tense, as in, Jesus is interceding for us right now!)

** 2 Kings 20

Street Cat

Lord,
Last evening's kitten rescue
Did not go as I had anticipated.
The kitten, found between two houses
As I was coming back from Adalheid's,
Ran away
Before I could pick him or her up.

Lord,
Continue to watch over
All the strays,
All the hungry,
All the lost,
All the homeless,
All the forgotten.

Creation cries out
For Your Love,
Man and creature alike.
Be ever near us,
Man and creature alike.

And Lord, if You could,
Give me another shot
At nabbing that kitten,
Not for myself,
But to rescue and put into
The care of another.
I already made arrangements.
The cold weather's starting at night.
I heard him meowing from somewhere this morning.
Just one more shot, God...
Please?...

*Author's Note - the kitten was rescued two mornings later by Gary the Cat Guy, a neighborhood animal rescue Good Samaritan, and is now being fostered and nursed back to health.

God does answer prayers...

A Spirit of Heaviness

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified. (Isaiah 61:1-3 KJV)

The first time
I ever tried killing myself
I was ten years old.
It was an ill-conceived plan.
I did not know how hard it would be
To overdose
On a bottle of Dimetapp.
I succeeded in drugging myself,
And slept for fifteen hours.
I can laugh about it now.
I was not laughing then.

I battled depression
For almost three decades.
I can tell you that it started
When I began school,
And originally stemmed from my being
The class pariah.
I was that kid -
The overweight kid.
The too-smart kid.
The too-sensitive kid.
The one bullies bullied.
The depression took root like a giant thornbush,
Choking the joy out of normal childhood,
Making my predisposed, somewhat shy self
Sullen, moody, withdrawn,
Someone more at home in books
Than with people her own age.
My parents repeatedly told me
There was nothing wrong with me.
I did not believe them.
The sadness, aloneness,
And feeling of being cut off from others
Deepened and intensified with the years.
I didn't have the words for
The load of sadness
That weighed upon me.
I simply wanted it to stop.
I thought only death would alleviate the burden.

My teens and twenties
Saw a partial lifting of the depression.
Instead of it crushing me,
It transformed into a kind of carousel.
Up and down.
Around and around I spun,
Trying to stave it off...
Trying to keep the intrusive, self-destructive thoughts
Out of the labyrinth in my head...
Trying to find my way out
When I got lost in there.
The barbed wire and armed guards
I mentally erected
Were like the US's patrol force
Along Mexico's border:
Outnumbered, and something always
Slipped through.
A year and a half of therapy
Added some weapons to my arsenal.
It wasn't enough to end the war.
I thought about taking antidepressants,
But, fearing losing some vital part of myself,
Decided against it.
Each round of wrestling with it
Left me a little more drained
Than the time before.
Is this ever going to stop?
I would wonder.

And now...
God has vanquished it
When I wasn't looking.

The past five years
Have transformed my life;
The me of this moment
Would have been
Unrecognizable to the me from
Five years ago.
So many of the old habits,
The old patterns of thinking,
Have been replaced by
Sound thoughts...
Healing thoughts.
My mind wanders less and less
In those dark, nether regions.
I can be sad, angry, discouraged, or upset
Without being overwrought, hopeless, or suicidal.
It is a good feeling.
It is a very good feeling.

In my mind,
There is an ongoing conversation
With God.
I bring my life to Him
More and more daily.
He answers me
Through Scripture,
And circumstance,
And other people,
And occasionally dropping a thought there on His own.
(What an astounding and terrifying experience!)
When that familiar spirit of heaviness
Starts whispering to me from the dark,
There is His voice in the background,
With an even more resonant whisper:
"You are a Child
Of the Most High God."
Every time I think it,
I cannot help but smile.
The depression
Cannot compete with that thought
For very long.

I took it for granted
That I would probably combat,
At best, a low-level depression
For the rest of my life.
But now,
There is this giant Flame
In the center of my soul.
It is transforming
A lifetime of heartaches
And heaps upon heaps of
Death-filled, nihilistic thoughts
Into a temple of worship,
A home for the Spirit
Of the Living God!

It is true, what Paul tells the Romans:
"Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." *

Lord,
This is truly wondrous.
I didn't ask You,
And You did it.
Thank you.

The meditations of my heart
Yield the following reply:
"It is impossible to abide
Close to My Heart
And not feel Joy.
I had to heal you.
I have to make you ready
For what's coming next."

I blink.
"Next? What's 'next'?"

He doesn't answer directly.
He smothers my nervousness
With an extra burst of Joy.

Hmmm.
Next.
I'm in trouble now.

* Romans 8:26

On the Offensive

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints (Ephesians 6:10-18)

The belt of truth -
(Gotta lose a few pounds to get that to fit right...)
Check.
The breastplate of righteousness -
(Thank God we're not talking about my righteousness here,
Or this thing would be tin foil)
Check.
The readiness of the gospel of peace
To protect my two little feet
Wherever they may take me -
(I'm as graceful as a bull in a china shop,
And could use the extra traction)
Check.
The shield of faith -
(Because I know the Adversary
Is hurling things my way)
Check.
The helmet of salvation -
(Well...I have always liked to wear hats...)
Check.
These are my defensive weapons.

Five defensive pieces of armor,
Five denoting the unmerited, free Grace of God.
How fitting.
(There are no accidents.)

But there is one more piece
To this warrior's armor,
The only piece mentioned
That is my weapon,
The object I can use
To put the Enemy
On the defensive:
The sword of the Spirit,
Which is the Word of God
Praying at all times in the Spirit
With all prayer and supplication.

Lord,
We both know
I hardly had a sword to use
Until rather recently.
You gave me salvation,
But I didn't understand
The putting to death of the old me,
And the putting on of the Christ.
I didn't understand
The depth and breadth of the war,
And how our actions
Are maneuvers on the
Battlefield of life.

In my mind's eye,
I am wielding something
That best resembles
Andúril, Aragon's sword from The Lord of the Rings
It is a sword forged from
The Word of God -
The Holy Spirit at work -
The prayers of the Faithful.
It glows an iridescent blue
That bathes me in a sphere of light
As I kneel in fealty
Before the Throne of Grace.

"My Lord God and King,
El-Shaddai,
Ancient of Days,
Endue me with the Holy Spirit.
May my prayers,
And the prayers of the Faithful,
Rise from the altar
Before Your Throne. *
Hear us, O Lord!
Be with us!
Fill me with You!
Teach me Your Ways,
That I may stand firm
Against the Adversary!"

In my mind's eye,
I rise to my feet,
Take up my stance
In the classic longsword Ochs style,
And give thanks
To the Eternal I AM.
The blue glow of the sword
Balloons beyond my field of vision,
Encompassing the lives I
Have touched -
Am touching -
Will touch -
And I feel God's Mercy and Grace,
Justice and Lovingkindness,
Flowing through me
Out into the glow...
Out beyond the glow...
Out and out and out...
Ever out,
Kissing Eternity's edge.

As for you, Adversary...
En guard.
En guard, you bastard.
I see you now.
May Almighty God ever protect and guide me
Everywhere I encounter you.

We're going to rout you.
Your days are numbered.

* And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer, and he was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne, and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel. (Revelation 8:3, 4 ESV)

Application Support

Lord,
You know what's going on at work.
You know there are several initiatives being implemented
In the weeks and months ahead
That revolve around the
Classified application system.

We're upgrading the version.
We're exploring new components
For integration with our websites.
We're setting up the system for use
By our Outside Sales force.
We're troubleshooting unresolved, unexplained behaviors,
And fixing the mistakes of human hands.

I need help.
I'm smart enough to know
That I don't know everything involved
To set all this up
Correctly
Properly
Precisely
Anticipating current needs
And future growth.

Please give me
Wisdom and knowledge
To accomplish my tasks.
Prompt me to reach out to others
When I need to.
Allow me to be guided and taught
By the Aussie's probing questions,
And lightning-paced mind.
Be present
When I'm configuring, testing,
Assessing, researching.
Give me answers
When I am stuck,
As You so graciously have already.
Comfort me
When I get frustrated
And my mind tailspins.

Lord,
I do not ask all this
So that I can brag,
"Look at what I have done!"
I ask for Your help
So that my team can take advantage
Of the features in the new version
That may make their lives easier...
So that the clients can be serviced better...
So that outside sales can work more efficiently...
So that the managers can help their staff
More richly cultivate their time and relationships..
So that, overall,
Burdens are eased.

To me, the work feels overwhelming.
To You, it is as nothing.
Still my mind.
Calm me.
Guide me.
Make me a vessel
Fit for this work,
To the Praise and Glory
Of Your Holy Name!

Vending Machine God

It was an innocent comment,
Made while we were serving food
At the community lunch.
One of the women being served
Said that we ought to be paid
For our time serving the community.
"We don't do this to get paid,"
One of the coordinating women replied.
"We do it to get blessings."

It wasn't until later
When I was walking the dogs
That I realized why the woman's reply
Bothered me so.
That's not why we do it either,
I realized.

A vending machine God:
I put in the right amount of change
(Good deeds, clean living, tithes, etc),
And God spits out the desired selection
(Blessings on my life, no hardships along the way, etc).
Right?

What a recipe for disaster
And endless disappointment!
A new kind of legalism,
Embodying the age-old agenda:
"What's in it for me?"

Lord,
Why is it so easy to lose
Sight of You?
Why do we miss the point entirely,
That we're doing these things
Not to seek You for what You can do for us,
But because it is fitting
To give You glory and praise...
Because You have given us
Breath and life and
Our lives should be a
Call and response love song
Sung back to You.

That's the point...
Of everything -
Our lives -
Our circumstances -
Our tribulations -
Our callings.

Lord,
Grant that,
In the whirligig of my everyday,
I do not lose
Sight of You.

Fellowship

Ah, Lord,
Let it be
That I have stumbled upon
People who need You
As much as I do...
Who turn to You
In all seasons...
Who recognize that church
Is a hospital for sinners,
Not saints.
I am in desperate need of others
Like me:
Sinners enraptured by
Your Heart,
A Body of Christ
Seeking Jesus as its Head.
Let me find fellowship here,
In Your Name,
In Your Spirit.
Amen.

Bethlehem

There are no accidents,
No strange coincidences
In these lives we lead.
There is a Guiding Force,
And much of what happens to us
Is the result of either
Letting Him drive,
Or trying to drive on our own.

Jesus Christ -
Anointed One -
The Bread of Life -
True Manna from Heaven -
It is no accident
That you were born in little Bethlehem.
The meaning of the Hebrew
Is lost on us.
Bethlehem. Beth lachem.
House of Bread.
Coincidence?

I was offered up for adoption
When I was one day old,
And placed in the care of a woman
Whose name is Mercedes.
Mercedes. Spanish for Mercy.
Another coincidence?

Lord,
Redeem me!
May I ever let You guide me!
May I ever reside in the House of Bread!
May Your Mercy ever cover me!
Amen!

Eli

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? (Psalm 22:1)

My God,
My God -
The boy's name
Echoes the cry of longing
Within our own hearts.
Thus Your Anointed cried
As he called out to You
From The Cross. *
Thus we cry out to You
For the sake of this
Sick little boy.
Through Your Power
Lepers were cleansed,
The blind saw,
The deaf heard,
The paralyzed moved.
Healing flowed,
And continues to flow,
From Your Throne
And into our lives.

Lord,
Let this plea come before You.
Heal the boy named Eli,
Whose very name is
A desperate cry to You.
The life of the flesh is in the blood, **
Which is why Jesus Christ shed His -
To bring us
Wholeness, Soundness,
Health of Body, Mind, Soul, and Spirit.
Jesus gathered the children to Him,
And gave them His Blessing.

Father,
Do not forsake this boy.
Bring Your Blessing,
Your Healing Touch,
To the child in a Florida ICU.
We pray that You would heal
The infection within His body.
We ask that You would
Reach down,
And touch him,
So that his parents and doctors
And he himself when he's a little older
May know that
You Are Lord over all Creation,
And praise You for the Grace and Healing
That You daily pour into our lives!

* And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?" which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"(Mark 15:34)

** For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life. (Leviticus 17:11)

Sophie

Little girl
Dancing in the sunlight
Of a St. Vincent's morning -
In the space of a volley of gunshots,
Your entire world has changed.
You must get well.
Your body must heal.
More changes are coming.
Familiar faces await your arrival
Here in the US.
Come and live among us,
Saints and sinners alike,
And may you grow to know
The Mercy and Wisdom and Peace
That the Lord alone provides.

Lord,
Why do I feel so attached
To this little one who
I haven't even met yet?
Let it be that, as I hum lullabies,
And pray thoughts at her
Through You,
That somewhere in St. Vincent's,
You are there,
Humming lullabies,
Comforting her,
Healing her,
Drawing her ever closer
Into Your Arms!

Pray Without Ceasing

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

Many people say that
Before the day even begins,
We should pray to God.
My brain does not function
Without coffee in the morning,
So I usually start praying
After that first cup at Adalheid's
When I'm on the train.
Now, once begun,
I find myself praying continually
Throughout the day.

I used to think of prayer
As a stiff exercise in monotony.
Recitation, and a few personal elements
Thrown in for good measure.
I didn't have a clue.
I didn't realize that prayer
Endues us with Power, Strength,
Knowledge, Wisdom, Patience,
Gentleness, Longsuffering,
And all the Christian virtues
We struggle to cultivate
(Stupidly) On our own.
I didn't think that my problems,
Issues, concerns, struggles, and hurts
Were important enough
For the Lord to take an active interest in them.
I didn't know that the Hand of God
Could reach down
At the same moment that I was reaching up
And touch me.

Now...
Nothing is too big
Or too small
To bring to Him.
Family -
My sister's journey towards a normal life.
My future brother-in-law's job drama.
My aunt's health issues.
My cousin's arduous studies.
Work -
Conflicts on the team.
Problems with the computer system.
Personal tribulations of the staff.
Difficulties with clients.
Home -
Pets.
Bills.
Adalheid and the king.
Adalheid's wandering momma.
Self -
My journey closer to the Heart of God.
Battling demons, old and new.
Struggling to be okay with my singleness
In a world insistent on coupling.
(Well, I occasionally think it might be nice, too...)

That I'm praying more frequently
Begets the desire
To want to pray more frequently.
I know response is imminent.
I know God loves me enough
To send messages back to me.
The burning bush is not igniting before me,
But I hear His Voice clearly
Through Scripture and song,
The works of Bullinger, Bonhoffer, and Murray,
Odd "coincidences" and the voices of others.

Jesus speaks of entering a room,
Shutting the door,
And praying to the Father in secret. *
In my head,
We are constructing that room,
That space apart
Where I may meet with Him,
Confess to Him,
Petition Him,
Listen to Him,
Learn from Him,
Receive comfort from Him,
And ultimately,
Glorify Him.
There's a table, two comfy chairs,
Two cups, and a thermos
Of some of the best coffee ever.
I can enter that room
At any time,
And He is there,
The Eternal I AM,
The Faithful One.
The door is always open.
The welcome mat is always laid out,
And the coffee is always on...

* But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. (Matthew 6:6)

The Pressure Is Off

In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!" And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: "Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for." (Isaiah 6:1-7)

My vividly overactive imagination

Conjures another evening-train-ride-home daydream

That leaves me shaking in its intensity.

In my mind's eye,

I am standing before the Almighty's Throne.

The train of his robe

Is stretching somewhere past

The Andromeda galaxy,

And His foot is resting

Gingerly on the earth.

I am being

Blown backwards off my feet

By the Lord's Holiness -

His Very Presence -

Rays of Shechinah Glory

That are flaying the flesh from my bones.

My unholiness exposed

To that brilliant Light -

My rebellion, for which the punishment is death -

I scream a single note of pain-fueled terror.

One of the few Hebrew words I know -

"Rachem!" - is torn from my lips.

The sound of my voice is drowned out

By the sea-blast roar of the Seraphim

Who proclaim the Lord's holiness

Across the expanse of the Heavens.

This furnace heat will melt me.

I will surely live the eternal death,

Flung into the far reaches of the Pit,

And I am deserving of this fate.

I cannot stand unaided before

My Maker.

The pressure of His Righteous Judgment

Is crushing the life out of me.

All is lost.

I am lost.

There is a sudden stop

To the crushing of my body.

I open my eyes, and see

I am lying in the umbra

Of The Cross

Planted directly between

The Lord of Hosts and myself.

The Shadow of The Cross

Protects me

From God's thermonuclear Brilliance.

I do not move.

I close my eyes,

And wait for whatever will happen next.

And then I hear a Voice call my name:

"Blanca."

It is a soft, sure voice.

He says my name with the

Intimacy of many years.

I open my eyes and see

The Anointed One.

He walks toward me,

Radiant,

The weight of the age of the Universe

Shining in His eyes.

He extends a hand to me,

Saying,

"It's okay. Stand up."

I don't move.

"I am not worthy," I confess.

He nods.

"On your own, yes," he agrees.

"But you do not approach

The Lord alone.

I stand between

You and He.

My Sacrifice covers you,

Paying the sin-debt

Your mortal life incurs."

He is standing over me now,

His hand still extended to me.

"Come," He beckons.

I reach up and take hold of a grip

That communicates

I am more loved

Than anything I can even begin to conceive of.

I slowly get to my feet

And stare into

The Face of That Eternal Love.

He smiles; I smile.

The tears that well in my eyes

Say more completely than any words ever could

How joyful and thankful and praiseful I am

For the Lord's plan of deliverance...

The Wanderer

The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:5b-7)

"Not all those who wander are lost." J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Friday afternoon, 3:17 PM.
I was at my desk working
When the phone rang. 
It was Adalheid,
And when she said my name,
I knew something was terribly wrong. 
"Mommy is missing," she told me, 
Referring to her momma
Who has Alzheimer's. 
"And I'm calling because
I need you to pray to God
To bring her home." 
(Like I possess the Batphone, 
The private line to the Eternal.)
I hung up, and moments later,
Ran out of work
To help search. 
I was praying while waiting for the train.
As I stood on that platform,
Confessing my sins,
Asking for and receiving forgiveness,
Laying bare my heart, my intentions,
My prayers, my pleas,
Bringing before God the fact that
He is the god of the helpless,
I thought, I know You're always with me. 
Then I thought, You're always with everyone. 
Then I thought, That means You're with Adalheid's momma
RIGHT NOW.
There is a difference
Between knowing a truth in your head
And experiencing it in your soul. 
As this revelation struck me,
I felt His Hands 
Cutting through my panic,
Dispelling my fears and morbid fantasies. 
I believed that He would bring her home,
And a little over three hours 
From the time that she went missing,
He did. 

Lord,
Thank You
For leading her to the doorstep
Of the man who kindly took care of her
Before calling 911.
Thank You 
For keeping her safe
During her confused wandering. 
Father, 
Continue to show Mercy
To her, Adalheid, the king,
The rest of the family,
And me,
As we take care of her,
As she wanders ever further from us. 
Let her journey 
Eventually lead her home to You,
So that we may someday behold her
Joyful, praiseful, restored, and whole,
Her wanderings here as distant and forgotten
As the memories and life that are slowly
Evaporating from her now. 
We are all wanderers,
All burdened and weary
From our journeys back to You. 
Receive us, someday, Lord. 
Welcome us Home. 

Ten Years Ago Today

Father,
Today marks the tenth anniversary of 9/11.
I was supposed to be
At World Trade Center Building 5
The morning the towers fell.
I overslept, and punked out
On the job I was meant to apply for.
I was coming back from the store
With a bag of cat litter in my hand
When I heard people shouting in their homes
And everywhere, everywhere
I suddenly heard TV or radio broadcasts.
"Two planes have crashed into
The Twin Towers. "
I turned northwest on Gerritsen Avenue,
And beheld a plume of smoke
Rising out of the curve of the earth.

I remember trying to reach friends
Who worked or studied in Manhattan
And Washington, D.C.
I remember news trickling in
About neighborhood first responders
Who wouldn't be coming home.
I remember standing in my backyard
While occasional pieces of burnt paper
Floated down from the sky.

Life has changed since then.
Nothing could be the same after that.

Father,
This is not a prayer for vengeance.
This is a cry of longing,
Longing for creation's redemption.
How long will You leave us
In a broken universe?
How long before this world,
Laid waste,
Beholds the Glory of Your Son?
How long before The Branch of David
Fills his seat on the Throne,
As You promised David that He someday would?
Your children watch the earth's decay,
Understanding that this is all
Part of Your Plan,
But we wish that
You would hurry up
And redeem creation already.
We know that we are not at home,
And can never be truly home
Until Your Glory is completely revealed.
We ache for You.
We pray for You to come,
And fill the void,
The secret, unspoken longing
Of all our hearts.

Father,
It's going to be a rough one
Down here today.
We pray that You would
Touch the lives of everyone -
Those who lost loved ones,
Those who were there and survived,
Those who helped others, and bear the scars,
Those who mourn at the devastating loss of life -
Touch their lives, Lord,
With Your Grace, and Hope, and Love.
Bring Peace to the
Fathers and mothers,
Brothers and sisters,
Husbands, wives, and children,
All family and friends
Of the dearly departed.
We pray that You would watch over and protect
This city
These states
This nation
All nations
As we wrestle
Personally and globally
With the adversary.
Help us, Lord.
Heal us, Lord.
Save us, Lord,
From each other,
And ourselves.