We Are Human, Siri
Last night Siri didn’t want to talk about God or Jesus
And my daughter asked her too about heaven and the cross
She didn’t know about Boston or pain
Or the burning desire to run and scream
Or run and hide, or just run ragged to the end of an outstretched
mirage of a horizon, legs burning lactate build up, gripping pain
So we let her off the hook and laughed
But we are still hanging by a thread
She told Siri to call her princess and to wake her up at 6:40
That’s nice
She can refer all those questions to a human and she did
She has a nice new Lilly Pulitzer case to hide in
But we are cradled in the arms of the most High while
We ache about shattered limbs
And life in a chair, but it is still life
What were we thinking
A little mother daughter chat with an android voice
When the Creator of the Universe was available and is
We are human and so there is grace
I want to run and scream like a wild one and fling and flail
Arms swinging like helicopter blades
Expending crazy mad energy
I am human and I hurt
And I am in the company of millions
But we are covered by The Creator
Each deliriously painful moment of grief and loss heard
Siri can defer the questions to a human
I, thankfully can take all of mine to Him.
Bent, weak, bowed and shaken.
Humanity runs to the cross
under a covering of love.
Siri, if you only knew such love
But the last word is always hope and His
And fear won’t strangle bold and brave
And bombs can’t rob our souls
Human kindness runs to aid
Man helps man and God loves man
Broken, fragile, wounded man
And hearts are broken but still beat
Blood runs hard and fast but so does
Compassion at the scene and in the world
Siri, if you only knew
The love of God most High
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
With Jennifer today for #tellhisstory and with Emily and my team at Imperfect Prose on Thursdays
elizabeth w. marshall 
Dear Elizabeth
I read somewhere about something that happened during the Second World War. In a German concentration camp, a child once saw the arm of God reaching down from Heaven stroking the hair of the Jewish ladies that were led into the gas chambers. Oh, how His heart must be broken after what happened in Boston. My heart goes our to to all in the USA.
Blessings
Mia, thank you friend. I know His heart breaks for Boston. You are a gift. Your stories are always filled with such grace and tenderness. Thank you for being here. Your heart is a tender jewel.
Siri hates me. I’m sure of it. I can’t even get her to dial my son when I tell her to “Call Owen.” For some reason, she hears that as “Call Lens Crafters.”
Anyway. Enough of the nonsense when this is such a powerful, poignant piece. “The last word is always hope and His.” Yes. Betting everything on this.
Yes I am betting on it too. Try to talk to Siri about her faith. Ask her if she knows Jesus. 🙂 I am blessed that I am in this community at Em’s with you Nancy. I love the way you see the world. Call Lens Crafters. But I do love her (siri’s very dry sense of humor – we giggle)
So beautiful!
What a treat to see your smiling face here. Please come again. Thank you for encouragement.
Friend, this line:
But the last word is always hope and His
And fear won’t strangle bold and brave
Thank you for declaring this Place to which we come with our pain. Yeah, what does Siri know?
Bless you, Elizabeth. You are a treasure.
Thinking of you at Jumping Tandem, living and learning and fellowship -ing. Take good notes and savor your time. Thank you for being a voice of encouragement, always.
“Humanity runs to the cross.”
and we find ourselves strong enough when we know we are loved like THAT.
beautiful and redemptive, friend. thank you.
“But we are cradled in the arms of the most High while
We ache about shattered limbs
And life in a chair, but it is still life”
Oh my goodness, sweet poet sister. You have managed to capture something so horrific and hold it captive to hope. I love this, all of this, even as it makes me ache horribly. That we are all held – and now, the ones with shattered limbs – in the arms of the most High. Thank you, so much.
Elizabeth, this is beautiful. I read it and googled “Siri” and read it, again. I have struggled, this week, in some of the same places as Siri and love your line about helicopter blades, and even more, all the lines at the end. Thankful to be in His grip no matter what. Lots of love to you, Sister.
I don’t have an IPhone but my daughter does. It was so strange asking her questions about faith. We giggled but then it lead me to the poem. A strange way to start a poem but nonetheless that’s where it took me. Thank you for reading and commenting. I love having you here. So glad to be in his hands, with you too Sister and friend. Love this IP community.