A prayer without words,
a mind without thoughts,
a place from the silence,
emerges.
A shape like my soul,
powered by my will,
enlivened by desire,
reaches…
Out from within,
in from without,
enveloped by Eternity’s
embraces.
Consummation of love,
hoping fulfilled,
stillness in God,
enraptures.
~FS
Rage leads to shame,
anger begetting ignominy—
a fire that ends in embers.
What more must we endure?
I want to thrash and scream,
and make my displeasure known
to the universe.
The cold dark emptiness
dampens my cries,
absorbs my wails,
and ignores me.
Too many tears
like so much rain,
is tedious,
and erodes the slopes
within me.
A fire now rages—
hot and angry,
consuming everything,
engulfing homes,
and devouring my heart.
After a flood,
a fire feels good,
until it doesn’t.
A comforting warmth,
which burns,
intensifies, and destroys—
then covers us in a smoky
shroud of misery,
and shame.
What more must we endure,
yet again?
But to what end are all these tears,
and all this rage?
After all of this—
embarrassment and
humiliation.
Emotions to no purpose.
Even so
the earth endures—
green grass will emerge
through charred ruins.
And the beautiful rose
What tears have you shed;
that I’ve not shed also?
What tears could I cry;
that you couldn’t cry too?
What fear is there then, in sharing our pain—
one with another?
What loss could there be, in healing this shame—
between us?
***
Through this vale of tears,
behind veils, to hide our tears;
each walk, inside their fears,
yearning to break free.
Fear and shame divide us,
as dismal cloaks they hide us—
obscuring the depths behind our eyes,
and recognition of our common lives.
Tears are not a driving rain;
for driving us apart.
Tears are a revealing rain;
exposing each one’s heart.
And tears can be a healing rain—
enabling us to grow.
***
What sorrows have we known;
that Christ has not first known?
What suffering will we face;
that He has not embraced?
Upon our cross, all falsehood falls aside;
the fabric of our lives are torn asunder,
revealing a wedding garment under,
and truth proclaims we are Christ’s bride—
Jesus claims His bride,
looks long into our eyes,
lifts our veil of tears,
and from our shame and fears—
Christ frees us.
~FS
They swirl and they spin,
darting this way and that.
They are hard to follow—
and hard to catch.
Like swallows, they
are lively and ever-moving,
and rarely seem to sleep;
and even in our sleep,
they keep moving.
Our thoughts—
are never still;
our minds
in motion—
perpetual.
We need a shepherd,
and a guide.
With words like trained falcons,
the prayers of the church disrupt
our swallow’s erratic motions—
and flying in formation,
they bring our thoughts
into line.
How do you catch a swallow
and put it in a cage?
Very difficult…
But fly alongside—
as they swirl,
be their guide.
With prayers,
they will follow
by your side—
and find safe
landing.
~FS
The Lord gives and the Lord takes, blessed be the name of the Lord.
A better man than I spoke these words many years ago.
Although I must admit I love the way they roll off the tongue.
Blessed be the name of the Lord—
even though He allowed my life to be torn asunder.
Though He gave me my life,
He’ll also allow it to be taken,
along with all the others.
How strange.
The armies of despair have camped round about me,
and are knocking at the door.
I’ve fought them off with prayer and with hope,
with tears and with sincerity,
with everything I’ve known to do,
and yet here they are again.
There are five stages of grief, I’ve read about them;
in fact I read Kubler-Ross preemptively,
to get a jump on grief, and get a head start to healing,
so I could defeat despair and be whole.
But here they are—
the armies of despair knocking at my door,
threatening to tear me down.
The Lord gives and the Lord takes, blessed be the name of the Lord.
Can you imagine saying this and meaning it?
How strange and how beautiful.
Speaking of the stages of grief, I did them all;
and then I did them again,
and then I did them backwards,
and then I did the first one, skipped to the fourth,
backtracked to the second and then the third,
and wrapped it up with the fifth.
And then I did that in reverse order just to be thorough.
But here we are; despair and I looking at each other through the peephole.
Somebody has got to blink.
Am I just a toy on a string for the heavenly powers to play with?
Is it fun to watch me bleed, and then to bind me up;
and then to bleed me yet again?
Job, how can you say it—
can you teach me how to say it too?
And to really mean it?
~FS
There is something so simple and so sublime
in the beauty of love expressed, from one to another,
which we are gifted to witness,
which touches our hearts
and causes them to well up with abundant gratitude,
both for the one who has given their love,
and also for the one who has received it.
We love them both all the more for it.
There is a love too difficult to bear.
Is there?
I am thinking of a love that pierces our hearts;
that can cause our souls to bleed, if they could.
This is a love that overwhelms our senses,
which can scarcely be contained,
as if the fabric of our being is starting to tear, and to come apart;
for which all the tears ever cried will burst forth in a flood of joy and pain—
as if we are giving birth to life, to an idea, to a new world within us,
and for each other.
Is there a love that can reveal the depths and the heights of life to us simultaneously?
Is it possible for us
to plumb down into the heart of the earth while also soaring through the clouds?
We have light, and sound, form and movement
given freely to us from the hand of God,
all of which fill us with this kind of love—
an excruciating magnanimity.
This life, so solid and bright;
it fills us with laughter and beauty;
a light reflecting from the shapes of our loves.
In this we move about and have our being.
This life, so paper thin and fragile;
a tear in the paper can take these forms away;
as they fall into the shifting shadows and disappear.
How can this life be so wide, so expansive and stretch us so far?
It is an exquisite radiance with a numbing darkness intertwined.
How I wish that it were pure light.
~FS
What a beautiful day!
It’s sunny, it’s rainy,
it’s cold or it’s hot,
it’s what we had wanted,
or else it is not—
It doesn’t get any better than this,
we are having the time of our lives.
In all things be joyful,
in all things be thankful,
in all things praise our God—
for making us,
and setting us,
in this time and place.
This is the time of our lives.
We’re sad and we’re happy,
we’ve lost and we’ve gained,
we’re old and we’re young,
in health and in pain—
This is the time of our lives.
From everlasting to everlasting,
from beginning to end;
Was, and Is, and Is To Come—
and nothing new, here under the sun.
They had their fun, and they’ll have it too,
just as we do—
we’ll all have this time of our lives.
Don’t wait for tomorrow—
do it today!
The Kingdom at hand—
seize the day!
The time in our lives,
when Christ arrives–
Now it will be,
The time of our lives!
~FS
I watched the news today
and heard the world spinning round.
I did my work today
and put my shoulder to the ground.
I earned and spent and
kept the world going round.
But in my mind,
as work ground me into the ground—
my thoughts kept spinning,
round and round:
leaving me with little sense
of what’s up and what’s down.
Like a botox injection
to the inner man,
our worldly lives
living worldly plans.
Hearts paralyzed by fear and debt
with no recourse but to worry and to fret.
There is an antidote to
worldliness however,
an inoculation given
by Christ our deliverer.
Nursing us back
to wholeness,
with the medicine
of blessedness.
By faith and hope
within our hearts
we forge a union
that love imparts.
Our thoughts may swirl
like an epic tornado
but a peace will rise up
as a conquering hero.
We think we are alone
in this world,
yet in our hearts
we will find that pearl—
the one for which we
sell all we possess,
to live in peaceful
holiness.
~FS
Incense coils upward
in long argentine strands
Angelic voices sing a joyous refrain:
“Receive the body of Christ
Taste the fountain of immortality.”
The hands of Christ serve
the body of Christ
from a golden chalice.
Each member called by name,
singular and unique.
Forming a line in quiet expectation
of the gift of eternal blessings;
a body numerous are
the servants of The King,
multiform, and manifesting His
infinite creativity.
Let us each put on
the eyes of thanksgiving
and the ears of obedience
and praise.
Laying aside all earthly cares,
let us settle into that peace
which reveals things
as they truly are;
without judgement
or condemnation,
but in the simplicity
of Godly revelation.
The Body and the Blood–
we receive,
and Christ receives us.
We are glorified by His glory
and deified by His divinity.
We come to the King empty-handed
and He gives us everything.
~FS
Fly away dear one.
Shed this world
and enter dreams
of tomorrow.
Lift your thoughts
upon the wind,
and let the sun’s rays
carry them, and you
to unknown places.
There is a home
made especially for you
in that celestial land.
We will gather
and wonder.
Our thoughts also drifting,
here among the silent spaces
within ourselves.
As the clock’s rhythmic
ticking calls us back
to remembrance
of our own beating hearts.
We look gratefully
into each other’s eyes
while remembering,
and appreciating all
that you are to us.
~FS
Prayerful Life 