Easter Sunday Morning

I can't see his face
through the tears.
It's blood stained, broken
I know.
I don't recognize my Lord and my friend.

I have no more tears.
I am spent, numb.
There is nothing left
of his life, or mine
except this ragged cloth
with which he wiped his face.

The blood has hardened,
the dirt dried
but it has become my most precious treasure.

I hold it
and breathe in the memory
of the good times,
the healings,
and outrageous outpourings
of miraculous grace
that flowed out of him
those three full years.

Full of so much promise,
excitement, power, wonder,
compassion, love.

Love.
That is what I'm left with.
His love.

It made me complete,
healed, restored.
No longer judged and dirty,
a social leper, a society outcast.

He gave me dignity, purpose.
He restored my name to me,
who I really am.

I will go to the tomb today
to anoint his body.
My last act of love
given in return.

I will ask the gardener to help me
roll away the stone.
There he is.

Word received 3.3.2016

Arise My people
and stand firm on My Word
for the winds are beginning to blow
of false doctrine and false teaching
in a manner not seen before.
People will completely abandon
what My word says
and replace it with their opinions
like shifting sands
that are ever changing.
My Word does not change.
It remains the same and ever will be.
Do not listen to those who
dispute it or change it according
to their own desires
but listen to My words and do them.
There will be a great divide
between those who believe My Word is true
and those who do not.
My power shall prove those who are right.
Do not grow weak
but feed on My Word
Says the Lord.

Oncology Ward (and Revelation 21:4)

Medicating cocktails seep through circling tubes
dulling the suffocating pain.
Oxygen saturation shows steady.
Expensive equipment signals
discouraging statistics.

The industrial white sheets
and meager hospital blanket
defies any sense of homeliness.
Impersonal clinical uniformity
adds weight to despair.

So she watches the last few days of her life,
not yet nearly half way through,
time out
to a blistering crescendo
of familial grief
and personal anguish.

She will not see her daughter wed,
or her sons in the strength of their adult years.
Robbed of life by the curse that is cancer,
that hateful disease that shows no mercy,
in whatever form it comes.

The doctors and nurses have done their best
and they grieve in their own quiet way,
apart from the patients
with whom they must remain strong and all knowing.

Her family is allowed space and time
to say goodbye

before she is wheeled from the ward
to make room for another.

And God will wipe away
every tear from their eyes;
there shall be no more death,
nor sorrow, nor crying.
There shall be no more pain,
for the former things have passed away.

Thankful

I am thankful
that I wake every morning
through the year's turning,
grateful for another day
laden with God's grace
towards me.

I am thankful
that I can speak
words of blessing
to my family and others.
I can breathe in
the new day deeply
and breathe out praise
to My Creator.

I am thankful
that I can walk
and run
and dance
if I want to,
work hard co-laboring amidst Creation,
and feel the pleasure
of accomplishment satisfied.

I am thankful
that I can hear
love and care
from others speech,
words chosen to bring life.
I can know the joy and
comfort in friendship shared.

I am thankful
that I can see
God's wonders
pressing in
causing me delight.
Sun, stars and moon
illuminating His Glory.

I am thankful
that I can know God.
Not just know about Him,
but know Him in the intimacy of silence
and the communion of worship.

I can speak with Him,
walk with Him, hear His voice,
see His works.
wake each day knowing
He is always there.

I am thankful.

Stars through the trees

I thought about you
and what might have been,
if different choices had been made,
different paths walked.

If we had met
earlier,
later,
in a different place,
in a different era.

We might have been close friends,
more than acquaintances
hanging out around a camp fire
listening to a testimony of faith.

We walked through the forest
speaking of eternal truths,
and questions that needed to be answered,
glimpsing the stars through the trees
before they overtook us.

I'm sure you look different now.
We wouldn't recognize each other.
If we met
there would be that moment
where you know you know the person
but you just can't place them.

Any words spoken might
have jumbled meaning,
unclear to either hearer.

A stuttering silence
might follow.
A few staccato phrases
linked for social conformity
and ease of parting.

We might walk away
bemused and indifferent,
missing the moment
of re-connection,

only remembering later
the stars through the trees.