Compartments

The glory of hope
lures us,
makes cowards of us,
leaves us to squirm in darkness
and unbearable light.
Can we give thanks for such unease?
Can we be grateful for our need?

The choice is ours to make.
When we run out of options,
the next door
waits.

The Repairman
sands off the rust,
lubricates the handle --
are we ready?
What could happen
if we believe
that God will not
deceive?

When Love Meets Love

They make it sound so easy.
But Jesus said, "Count the cost."

First the plow breaks up the land,
then the harrow breaks up the lumps.
Then it is planting time.

The seed waits in damp darkness.
seemingly abandoned,
surrounded by worms and shit.
Finally, it dies.

Then Life begins.

Seek and ye shall seek some more

Gods that are seen
are illusions.
Signs and wonders puff us up.

What are we waiting for?
Nothing that is not already ours.

 Fruitless to strain our eyes
scanning the horizon:
the Kingdom is in me, in you,
in seekers and mystics and skeptics,
in all.

Grasp the moment, 

find eternity here.

Grace begets grace
while we limp,
lost and determined,
through mazes of distortion,
seeking ourselves.

Demand for Peace

ME: Your peace that transcends all understanding --
WHERE IS IT????

ABBA: Right here.

ME: Was Jesus frustrated like this?

ABBA: You bet.

ME: But He didn't judge.
At least, He said He didn't.
But I wonder.

ABBA: It wasn't his call,
and He knew it.
Humans are too frail
for such a task.
His job was to love.

ME: Judgement is more exhausting than love?
Really?
Could that be
why I'm so tired?

Mislaid?

MISLAID?

Where is this kingdom
within me?
Buried out of sight?
Too obvious to see?
My passion?
My nightmare?
How do I claim it?
What am I missing?
Please point out the entrance.
No empty talk,
no testimonials.
Just show me.

Out on a Thin Limb

Father God,
You've given me
freedom to choose,
and promised
to be with me
and work with me
and through me
and even in spite of me
no matter what.

At least,
that's what
I've been told.

Could you send me
a memo of confirmation?
A menu of options
with the optimal pathways
highlighted in gold?

Why is Love so Difficult?

Why is love so difficult, Lord?

Soaring on rainbow wings
anything seems possible . . .
and then I crash:
wounded,
victimized,
mute with rage.

I AM LOVE.

What kind of answer is that?

An honest one.
The rigors of spiritual questing
pale beside
the cost of love.

You know I love you.

Yes, I do.
But there is more.
Much more.

Can you help?
Will you?

Silly child!
I am helping.

Losing my Umbrella

I don't know
what I'm looking for
and I don't know
where to look for it
or what it will look like
when I find it.

All I know is that
if I throw away
my umbrella
and stand in the rain,
sooner or later
I will get
wet.

I AM NOT THE GOD OF STAGNATION

Carrots and sticks
cannot grow integrity.
Comfort and ease
corrode societies.
Ideals lead us
over sharp rocks
of self-actualization.

How does God fit into all this?

ABBA: 
I am not the God of stagnation.

ME: 
Eternity and perfection never change -- do they?

ABBA: 
 Are you kidding?
I'm still growing Myself.

ME: 
Will you fill the emptiness I feel?

ABBA:
It will go into remission from time to time.

ME: 
I thought those moments would last forever --
I thought they were supposed to last forever.

ABBA: 
You keep picking up rubble
to weigh you down
rather than risk using your wings.