En Route

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En Route

We are moving at the speed of life
Going at the pace
Whose measurement is breath by breath
Some days the beating of my
Heart is set to the metronome of grief
Overlaid by the harmonious chords of Pregnant joy, birth and death almost Collide
How do we stand in the crosshairs of
Conflict
Gratitude in the longitude
Grief, latitude
I throw the threadbare anchor line
Over, scan the place where grey
Shades into shadows laced by fog
You know the place of slow fade, too
Choose to pause, honoring the loss
Here the refueling begins
I cannot stop
I catch my breath, netted
Held, released
Fill my sails always with peace
At war with the idea of war
Steer the vessel into the path of righteousness
And
Re-fuel the ship
We are moving at the speed of life
And grace will lead me home

When Grief Is Like A Runaway Train

mt church

When Grief Is Like A Runaway Train

There is a hole as wide as a manhole cover
Shot through the inside of me
We are tangled up in a web of grief
And darkness cannot hide

The sun is screaming today
There are words behind the rays
Sweat and blood drip
We are hot and tired

The ties that bind
Cords of humanity are stronger than the death grip
I see a cord of three
Still
I know

The web is tangled, connecting us
All
Me to you and you to them and me to them
The those who gathered to pray
When hate walked in

Shot a hole through the insides of the souls
Gathered and huddled round the holy
And darkness cannot hide
For we all shall gather to pray

I want to wipe the tears
And say I love
And say I am sorry
Holy Comforter call us into the healing

My sentences run fast and hard and choppy
The train of grief is slow, then fast and then it runs away
Before it slows and stops
And lets the grieving grieve

Heavy
The past that casts a shadow on the
Now
They chose the nighttime to gather and pray
I met my husband in the city
Love lives there too

Let the grieving grieve
And the healing fill the holes
The ones in the flesh and the bones
Of the ones who ache
With the pain of loss

My child
She learns in this city, and my child
She learns in the middle of this
Tangled web we weave
Holy City, hold your hurting

Love lives here too

Lord, have mercy
cross and sheep at chapel of p

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I Was Just Wondering – Because I Am Weird That Way

 ame churchI Was Just Wondering – Because I Am Weird That Way

If every church, every where, literally not figuratively
Speaking
Of church
Do you think every pew in every town everywhere
Has the quiet griever in its midst
The stranger suffering in our midst
We are too busy singing from the old blue hymnal
Traditional words could, no
Would help the one who has the quiet thoughts
I really miss my wife who died last month
Everyone is facing forward looking straight ahead
Of me
And behind me too
well, and to my right to be exact is one
Who has the silent prayer trapped inside
I hope my friend with cancer doesn’t die


But we watch our watch and wonder, tea or diet coke
At lunch when will this sermon end
Is it too much
To ask
The lady hunched over in her chair if she knows how lovely
She looks today
Barely hanging by a thread
Beside the man sitting worried in the pew
His insides churning
It’s hell, this recent divorce
Keeps him up at night
If you’d just ask he’d be happy to tell you
And if you even spoke in church
He might ask you to pray
I was just wondering because I am weird that way
Maybe the church
Could close the hymnal every now and then
I love music more than most
But let’s
Seek the hurting, silent ones in our midst
Faith without works is dead

We
Could pray and say and love
I don’t know anymore but somehow I don’t want to miss the boat

Perhaps a  little more love would
Cover a multitude of sins
And I was just wondering

Maybe we should love our neighbor
Literally

Speaking
Mine wept in church today

Quiet never saying a word until he was spoken to
And then he cried
And so did I
Strangers we until he voiced his pain
I am weird that way
I was just wondering.

Waiting

wpid-2013-04-10-15-36-36-1High up on my horse, a turquoise bike
This day’s form of traveling
A trio of dogs grinds me to a stop
Gathers for awhile
Sniffing wet black noses
Sparking a human interchange
Of neighbors who live quietly
With all their secrets
Needing to be released and shared
This one   grips and grinds, my heart’s beats
Like rusty bike chain needing oil
Now days have passed, the rain has come
And I am still marinating in her words.
I shall ride my bike again.
Go looking for more stories
The  kind that tell of life’s delays.
And take myself on hunts to gather
Words of what comes after waiting.

Sometimes stories come to you
Wet with grief and ripe with pain
Ones that bear no smile of waiting
Forty years to own your boxer dog
The one you rescued from the pound.

Sometimes the stories come to you
Drenched in pain and open wounds
Of marriages that break apart
Of babies that were due to come but haven’t yet
Of children who will not wear a cap and gown
The ones of jobs that slip away
The ones of lives that rip and shred, financial ruin
Cancer cripples men
Faith rumbles like the thunderous spring storm sky
Whispering why while pressing onward

Houses meant to close but don’t
Moves and jobs and men and deals
Churches, reconciliation, children
Time stands still for those who wait
But there are stories of redemption
They tell of purpose in the pauses
I cannot hear them loud enough.

And I
Hunched and hovering
I wait with baited breath unsteady
Will my boxer come to me
Dodging all the tired and warn out
Cliched comments for the weary
For the lonely, sad and hurting
How strange her wait was held to forty
Now I want to know her more
For there are holy others called to waiting
In the desert
Called to hold
On for longer

Why
Oh why
Can’t I

With
Sacred
Grace
Hold
Hope
For
Human
Suffering
I
Feel
I
Know
Too
Much
I
Pray
I
Know
too

much

Joining Laura for Playdates at The Wellspring