“...choose you a man for you,
and let him come down to me..."
― Goliath of Gath
Oh my...
did you hear his
giant's voice...
calling,
taunting...
he wants us
to choose a man
but
none
want to be chosen
we are not
prepared for this...
we are not strong,
battle-ready,
or well-equipped enough for
an enemy of this
weight...
we are afraid...
did you see his height?
six cubits...and a span!
and his weapons?
the head of his spear alone
weighs one thousand
shekels of iron.
he is a giant.
and we are but men...
simple
soldiers,
husbands,
fathers...
wait,
who is that?
what is a child doing here on
the edge of a battlefield...
don't you see him...the boy
there...
the boy with the shepherd's tunic
walking through
our troops,
passing generals,
on his way to
the king
what is he doing here...
he has no idea what
he is up against...
does he even know the difference
between six cubits and a span...and
the height of his brothers?
what does he know about
the weight of a spear head...has he
ever,
even,
held one?
what will he use to mark
his progress,
assess his odds,
defend his position,
promote his success...
we were supposed to choose
a man...
not a boy...
but who was it
that asked for a man?
the enemy!
he knows he can frighten,
impress,
intimidate
a man...educated in
theories of
war,
strategies of
defense...
but,
innnocence is not afraid
it is oblivious to threat of a
man whose height means nothing to him...
we are all tall to a child.
and if the heaviest thing he's
lifted is a stone...a spear of iron
weighing a thousand shekels
is irrelevant,
without consequence,
and
unimpressive.
choose you a man
was just a
bully's
taunting...
we'll send a boy...
fearless,
pure,
good....
with five smooth
stones...
"and,
I heard the voice of the Lord, saying,
'Whom shall I send,
and who will go for us?'
Then said I,
'Here am I, send me...'”
- David
“Sometimes,' said Pooh,
"the smallest things
take up the most room in your heart.”
― a.a. milne
he is waiting
even before
you rise from the
dusty echoes
of your dreaming,
he is there
the perfume of his
baby hair,
tiny fingers, soft and round with
wonder,
eyes that never leave
your face
he is there
eagerly waiting for
you to
lift yourself
from
the warmth of dreaming,
where
he was with you
all along
flying ponies,
dancing bears,
and kingdoms full of
laughter...
he is waiting
even before the sun
reaches over the horizon,
rises above the treetops, and
rest its hand upon your face...
even
before the scent of
toast,
and ginger
lemon grass tea
waft, and swirl, and
climb the stairs to call you
down to a morning's
meal
he is there
bright smile,
adoring eyes,
expectant, full of hope,
full of you...
and you,
are full of
him...
at the bottom of the
stairs.
in the middle of the night,
deep within
the smallest
moments
his shining
eyes
hold your
heart
because
you know...
he is always
there...
waiting
on tiptoe,
small arms reaching,
full of questions...
waiting
for you to
wake up
and
join
him in
his
day
“I think we dream
so we don’t have to be apart for so long.
If we’re in each other’s dreams,
we can be together all the time.”
― a.a. milne
[photo credit: Lisa Jean Renton - a photo of her son 2012]
“And the Lord
turned the captivity of Job,
when he prayed for his friends...”
- Job
hunched in the
dust of
barrenness,
of all that
my life has
become,
I am bowed with
despair,
covered in boils. and
steeped in
confusion...
"what have you
done..."
they ask
these friends who
think if
only I confess,
repent, and
reform
all will be well...
"oh no..."
they cluck in
sympathy,
offering yet another lens on
how I might see
myself,
victim of
circumstance,
gripped by
the random hand of
fate,
hanging in
a schism,
a breach in divine order
the scapegoat of
chance...
but I have done
nothing
and I know it...
and my God has not forsaken me
and I
know it...
but what of this sorrow,
the loss,
empty arms,
stolen dreams,
battered
hopes....
i start to wonder,
what have I done,
where did I go wrong,
is there something I allowed to
enter my thought,
invade my peace...
when did I let my
guard down,
fall asleep at the door of
self-preservation...
No!! says Elihu.
God is God...
He loves you,
He has not changed...
and immediately,
I know he is right
this youngest
one.
God is my Father-Mother,
He does love me,
but, I am not special,
She loves us all
none are more specially cared for
than another
or specially neglected...
I will not let this
pain and sorrow
distract me from the power of
His presence...
right here,
right now...
Look, I can think, consider,
appreciate...He is present as
Mind.
I can see that my friends have been
as honest with me,
as they knew how to
be...God is here as Truth.
I can still cherish the memory of
my children...She is present
as Love.
In the midst of this agony, I am
still aware of the inky beauty of a
starry night, the
delicate flower, the warm
wind...He is present as Soul.
Oh, look...
do you see the brick-by-brick
order of my neighbor's
sun-drenched wall,
the rising and falling of
my breathing?
He is present as Principle...
the winds of inspiration lift my heart
above the heat of anger...
He is present as Sprit
Nothing can touch my joy in whatching
the
leaping of new lambs,
the fierce care of their mother...
God is present as Life.
my friends, my friends...oh how I
love them...in their desire to
find answers,
to bring me relief,
to raise me from this pit of
woe...they do their best,
their
love for me is more precious than
gold, more wonderful than
youth, more
to be delighted in than
palaces and
chariots...
They embody His care,
they embolden my desires,
and in their innocence they look
for answers in the
wind...
thank you God for the
blessing of
my friends...I love them...
You have
preserved my
ability to
love them...
even
in the midst
of all this pain,
i love them still...
I can love,
I am whole...
"I had heard of thee
by the hearing of the ear..."
in the prophets speaking,
in the noble Rabbi's song,
in the stories of
pilgrims...
"...but now mine eye
seeth thee."
oh my God,
there is none but Thee.
I am bowed with awe,
I weep in reverence
at the wonder of Your
hands...the
beauty of Your
creating - this fathomless,
indestructible,
undeniable
love within my heart...
and theirs
thank You...
"and the Lord turned the
captivity of Job,
when he prayed for his
friends..."
“Look for something,
find something else,
and realize that what you've found
is more suited to your needs
than what you thought you were looking for. ”
- L. Block
I ran through
the rooms of
my life
searching for something
I thought
I wanted...
something I was afraid to
lose,
even before
I'd
found it...
I lifted the covers on
this career and
that,
scoured the
the landscape for a
purpose,
a person,
a place....
I looked,
and looked,
and there were so many
times when I
caught sight of a
flicker,
the sparkle,
something poking out from
under the
bed ruffle...
it caught my eye,
stopped me in my tracks,
but by the time
I got there...it was gone...
vanished,
dissolving in the
desperation of my
grasping.
and then one day,
tired from
my restless seeking
I sat against
myself,
and leaned into
the
solid
core of my own
constancy...
the heartbeat of
an infant
calling
I felt the
strength of
something I had
forgotten was always
there...
me.
All my searching,
and I
was
waiting deep
within the
soft
folds of
my own heart...
and this
child self
was singing
singing
a song of the sea,
calling me
home...
I pressed my
ear into the pulsing
of stones and sorrows,
sisterhood and
solitude...
the sounds were blue and
gray, shadows cast upon the softest
shades of
alabaster and
midnight,
they were
hushed by
sand, and the
whisperings of an afternoon
storm turning
mountains into
islands,
and
prairie grasses into the
tawny waves of something ancient,
always rising...
rising and
falling
to the bend and break
of a surging
silence,
lifting to the
call of
a blackened sky,
into the arms of
a cradling
stillness
singing me
home to
the place,
the person,
the purpose I
have known
all
along...
a beachcomber of
syntax and
syllables,
shards and stanzas that
are washed
upon the edge foam of
my soul,
the space between the
water and the sand, along
endless shoreline of my heart,
searching
always searching
for the next
word...
searching for
a noun
and
finding
a verb...
"And Jesus
lifted up his eyes,
and said,
'Father, I thank thee
that thou hast heard me.
And I knew
that thou hearest me
always:
but because of the
people which stand by I said it,
that they may believe
that Thou hast sent me."
- John
I know, Father,
I know
You know
that
I know...right?
You know,
that
I know,
that
I am nothing but a witness
to Your doing,
nothing but
a listener to Your song...
but how do I
deny them
what they think they
want...
a Savior,
a Messiah,
a king of kings...
I point to You
in every case,
I drag my feet, and still they
wait to hear
my words...when it is
Your Word
they
really want,
Your Word they
really need...
I know,
because only You have
filled my emptiness,
only You have eased my
weariness,
carried my burdens,
healed my wounds,
quieted the
terror
and temptations
of forty days and
forty nights
where winds howled and
devils taunted,
and still
your Word
pierced
the
darkness of
a
barren hope,
the
hunger for something
I could not even
taste, but felt the
aching for....
They want You,
but think they need me.
They hunger for Your
Word,
and yet, think they will be
sated with words from me....
when all that
they
would
leave them with is
emptiness where it mattered,
and gasping for
Spirit,
thirsting for
Truth,
famished, yet full
of empty
words that will not heal, but
only lull
them into the sleepiness
of thinking they
have heard
You
through me...
but
all they will have is
Your message to
me...
and all the
while You
are singing
a song
written just for
their heart,
a love song that
will raise them from the
bed of pain,
call them from the tomb,
fill them with
a purpose
that is theirs
alone,
a calling so pure,
direct,
and undiluted
that it
cannot be
mistaken for the
lispings of
man,
but will
course through
their own
hearts strong
and sure...
sigh...
but today,
they think You will speak
through me...
and he is my friend
his sisters need him,
his friends are
waiting...
so,
because of the people
which stand by I will say it
but You know
I know
You were there
with him all along...
lifting him,
calling him,
loving him...
loving them...
so
I will
say it:
"Lazarus,
come forth..."
and he wept....
"what is it You want
from me,"
she asks from the
edge of
despair
what is it that
You
would have
me
do
from where
i kneel
in total
surrender to
this moment of
trust
I thought I had
answered
Your call,
gone where You had
sent me,
subjugated my
will to
Thine
and yet...
i am here,
not on a pinnacle of
praise,
or a platform of
achievement...
but I am here
prostrate,
on my knees,
back bent in
tired labor,
starving for Your voice,
aching for
direction...
here,
where I
wait to feel Your
hand upon my
head,
Your arms lifting me
above my
trials,
Your voice calling
me to the
warm comfort of
that place beneath the shelter
of Your
wing...
here...
could this be
the place,
the posture,
the purpose You
had in mind
all along.
To be lead,
not higher...but
lower,
deeper,
further down upon
my
knees in
humility,
surrender,
obedience,
and meekness
"Yes...
He said,
"but with a humility that
is perfumed with joy,
a sweetness of surrender,
childlike obedience,
not just service, but as a servant
with all the meekness of your Master...
My son.
you can do this
I have made you for this
purpose
I know, I know...
it is not
what you expected...
but trust Me...
I promise.
I love you,
I am
your Father...
just as
I was
his."
i was buried in the
sandstone and granite of
a layered
past
but this cup of cold water,
this river of
kindness,
a rushing, fracturing
stream of
compassion
has broken me
free
shattered the hardness,
the brittle veneer of a fragile hope,
sifted away the
silt and
sand - all that would
hold me back -
from seeing
that I am a beautiful in
His sight
and revealed me
as ever,
always
cupped gently
in His
hands
take away
what is not true,
mine
my heart,
with the precision of
a loving prospector..
unearth the purity...
the unadulterated,
the rare,
the simple goodness
found where
they thought was only
the dismissible,
disposable,
the unsalvagable
yet I have been
sifted loose from the debris
that was not me
I am now a treasure in His
hands
reclaimed for
who I am,
the purest elements
of Being..
He sees through the colorless
forgettable,
unremarkable...
and washes me free
of that self
that is not me
then,
heated in the
fire of His Love
I am softened,
clarified,
ready to be
graven with the image,
the
character,
and nature of His
name.
when
His
son
brings to
my lips
the cool water of His
overflowing
Love,
to
temper all
that he has
graven in my being,
setting
His word
solid in my heart...
his signet
on my
soul...
