Random {chat} between sisters

Me:

What is in the hampers?

Friend:

Two bottles of wine, a bottle is spirits, a box chocolates and/or biscuits. I’ll see what comes tomorrow when the delivery arrives.

Me:

really??? wow… we could never do that

Friend:

Hampers aimed at non Christians. They have money too!

Me:

I know, I am not judging, just comparing what we do here

to what you do there

Friend:

The joy of different churches.

Still. You get to preach and lead. I don’t. Different strokes.

Mer:

I guess I prefer my side of the fence then

On {strike}

strike it once,

strike it twice,

what’s so wrong in striking rock

 

talk at table

of striking miners

and Fidel Castro

 

strike it once

strike it twice

what’s so wrong in striking rock

 

politick of youth

so very long ago

no work on Maggie’s farm

 

strike it once

strike it twice

what’s so wrong in striking rock

 

perspective and reflection

two powerful God given tools

left and right, nada

 

strike it once

strike it twice

what’s so wrong in striking rock

 

clarity attained

it’s God’s will in His way

No only ever could

 

strike it once

overstate with twice

stretch your neck out on the block

 

Moses what were you thinking

Disobedience at the end

Sad but painfully true.

 

 

Sky Path

Who worked the path

That I traverse

To make it easier – for me

 

I love to look up

Into the inky black sky

A rainbow collar around the moon

White shiny dots

Outline the plough

And the guy for archery

 

Sometimes even planets

Are seen but I know nothing of these

I see only pinhole camera dots

 

Filled with wonder

Full of awe

At the hands that threw those lights into space

And who made my heart His home

Someone told me about the deathstars

Bright shining lights signalling death

 

One night two years ago

I saw a shooting star

Drop from the sky

 

Billy sang it was a satellite

And he wished you cared

But I saw it shoot

And I did not wish anything

As it fell down straight.

To you though, my love, my friend

 

I look forward to spending time with you

Your mission field was a small patch of land

Seeds planted in each new child

 

I wonder do the others

Bear their seeds on their path

Maybe if I looked horizontal and not up

I would see across the meadow

Or see pairs of oxen too

Evenly yoked through history

 

The people came before and are yet to come

The ones who surround me now

The crowd of witnesses from the field

 

Bringing us all

Closer to Thee O Lord

Closer to Thee.

Following the boat

I had an epiphany on the M50 yesterday. I suddenly wanted to do something different. I wanted to start following the boat. It was on a flatbed, an old cranky boat with a ripped starboard.

It was older than a starboard boat. I remember playing a game called Port or Starboard as a child with bruised shins. I don’t think the game came from centuries ago but I think the boat might.

I was driving so I don’t have a picture. Smudge tried and failed to get an in focus picture of the boat but got a lovely side view of my melanoma and double chin. We had been to the hospital and had new hope and a new doctor. Things could change.

We discussed what the doctor said and the procedures he wanted to perform on Smudge. I mentioned the daily injections and that is when he hit me. Not literally… he said he might not go back to college.

The boat came passed, we were going to Dundrum to find Jamie’s restaurant for a massive treat. But I started following the boat. And I asked him, “shall we just follow the boat?”

He said, “we can’t do that, we have to go home, you have things to do.” But I just kept on following that boat. Every now and then he tried to persuade me that going home would be okay. But just for that moment I did not want to deal with church stuff, home stuff, college stuff. I just wanted to follow what looked like a Viking longboat and never deal with my stuff again.

I had been studying Psalm 46, with the intention of writing a sermon. But it all went south, yesterday. I know God is with me, I know I can be still and let God work in situations, I know he is ever-present and I know being Christian does not mean everything becomes easy.

But just for that moment I wanted to follow the boat and never go home. A few weeks ago I was at a coach station in a European city and I {almost} got on a bus going anywhere else but home. Then I was at an airport and I wanted to fly away to anywhere.

There was just so much to think about , so much to deal with and now Smudge may not go back to university. My lovely ring-fenced days off are gone. Hospitals, doctors and canteen coffee loom on the horizon and beluga caviar. I just want to follow the boat. And the empty nest Sean & I were looking forward to became technical once more.

I thought of the story told of the God who dances in potato chips and I remembered. I remembered who I am, I remembered why I was at college, why I had been fired, why I bend like a reed to help Smudge, why I have become protective of people, why I have been placed where I have been placed.

The transient thought of following the boat passed and I turned to go home. Smudge went to sleep. All is quiet, all is well. “Be still and know I am God.”

 

{lonely} boy

No messages, you have no messages

the sanitised voice revealed.

No messages, no friends, no life

Thomas concluded in his head

 

He imagined pressing the button

the proclaimed the number of friends

no friends, you have no friends

Thomas moved through his house

 

Once more he imagined the button

the shrill metallic female

Shouted, don’t you get it – loser boy

no message, no friend, no life

 

Thomas had been here before

in the aloneness of loneliness

he stood by the window

and cried.

Lost

The fragment of mirror showed

I was no longer me

No longer my brother’s brother

Or my father’s son
The unclean swine I tended

Ate better meals than I

But no matter how hungry I was

I did not touch their food
Dad, he taught me the scriptures

He showed me right from wrong

Each day was a lesson

Something to chew on and grow
Do not murder, do not steal

No coveting another’s wife

Each rule, each law, each point 

Was made in love by dad
Minding pigs, I look back

Returning to my home, in mind

I realised I had not really left

Through the food the swine ate
Before my dad was born

Some of our kind turned Greek

And maybe for a while I did the same

Though I did not uncircumcise
All the money in the world

And all the food of a banquet

Cannot replace my home community

So I refused {point blank} to steal
I planned to return to my daddy’s place

Unsure of his response

Expectation of punishment

I still longed to be at his side

Once more

Listening to his deep, wise, words
The rhythm of his farmyard life

Beats still into my heart

I yearn to be his servant 

Not a son, after what I’d done
But look! Dad is running

Hoisting his robes above his knees

Breaking rule after rule but hey…

He running and smiling and laughing

And hugging and kissing me.