postaday

A Grandma’s House

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The other day my wife came home and announced something that clearly had her somewhat distressed. We have a pleasant enough front yard, I suppose: a couple little trees, some lawn, a nice flower bed. The house is a Victorian. It’s over 100 years old, and is dark gray with several shades of green trim. There’s a little porch in front of the red door, which has a nice wind chime next to it. Apparently, Lori was fine with everything until I added the hummingbird feeder. That took her over the edge. Anywho, back to my wife’s distress. When she walked in the door she announced, “Joel, I have a grandma’s house!” I asked her if it was the pictures on the wall in the living room of our two granddaughters that provided her with the first clue. If my comment amused her, she made a good show of hiding it. She said that when she parked her car and got out, she looked (apparently really looked) this time. “It’s just all so nice. And now, with the hummingbird feeder, something clicked in my head and I realized that I live in a grandma’s house.” I believe she’s come to terms with this now. However, I may want to run changes by her in the future, just in case. First though, I think I’ll fix her a nice cup of tea, with maybe a few cookies.

Moment Harvest

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Think of a day
as a moment harvest,
gathered nuggets of time
nourishing moments you pick from the field
of your day.
Gather them in a big cloth sack,
then spread them out when the sun goes down
put them on a scale
to see what they weigh.

Waking up next to your wife.
Quiet time with God.
A hot cup of coffee.
The sun coming up.
Time spent with men you respect.
Reading a good book.
A drive to work (bonus *with your daughter*)
A call from a friend thanking you for advice.
Playing with your dog.
Admiring your garden.
Dinner with your family.
Time to think and write.
Time to rest, recuperate,
and dream.

If I continue looking at all my days
as moments harvested
just like that,
I imagine the only thing
I’ll ever need
is a bigger and stronger
cloth sack.

Are You Foolish?

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Given a fork in the road,
do you take the path
that is worn smooth?

When you get dressed
do you wear what
won’t
get you noticed?

Do you lift your hand
in class
if you
aren’t
sure?

God’s eye is on the brave
and brave is different for
every man
and woman.

There’s freedom
and reward
in stepping out
of the skin
you’ve grown used to.

Don’t assume as far
as you’ve come
is as far as you can
go.

God never runs
out of plans for
us.
We just
stop listening.

Compassion for Twitterpated Individual Couch Jump Velocity

Last Saturday I asked my wife and daughter to help me with a poem by giving me words I would have to use in four stanzas. This week my granddaughter got to throw in two of her own, so this week we’ll have six. Here goes.

Not many are aware of the Couch Olympics.
It’s a byproduct of the TV age, and development
of living room gymnasts.

Many twitterpated fans stay up
all night to view the athletes.
Their dewy eyes stay locked on
their heroes while they compete.

The sport involves lots of sophisticated movements,
using cushions to assist jumps. As you might guess,
participants accumulate more than a few lumps.

The individual rounds begin
with manipulation of the Lazy Boy Chair.
A deft pull of the foot stool
can send one high up in the air.

You would think velocity limited
within the confines of a living room,
but speeds have been measured
almost enough for a sonic boom.

Once, a veteran jumper flew so far
the couch couldn’t catch him.
Thankfully he was rescued by an onlooker,
overcome with compassion.

Comfort

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Blessed by the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ, the
Father of mercies and God of all
comfort,
who comforts us in all our
affliction so that we will be able to
comfort those who are in any affliction
with the comfort with
which we ourselves are comforted
by God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Heavenly Father,
Comfort those in mourning,
whose loved ones’ hearts beat on
in memories joy and pain filled
during lonely nights and dawns.

Comfort minds lost and broken,
those who cannot rest. Bring
them caregivers gentle, angels
heaven sent.

Comfort broken limbs and burned
skin, arms and legs no longer there,
that still send messages of pain,
phantoms in the air.

Comfort First Responders, who see
more than they should, who go when
others stay, who do more than others
could.

Comfort enforcers of law,
the ones who wear the vest,
who put our safety first
while making their arrests.

Comfort the military,
our red line around
the world, the ones who
often run into harms way
with our flag unfurled.

Comfort the healers,
who administer best aid
for our ills small or
grievous, their dedication
never wains.

Comfort for the Pastors,
who count everyone their
flock, whose hearts might
stretch out of their chests
while they point the way
to the walk.

Lord, if we can’t give comfort,
at least let us not add pain.
Let us, like all the other helpers,
be there for those in need
when sorrow rains.

It’s a Mystery

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Lord, so much baffles and confuses us,
causes consternation and pain.
Much like acid rain,
we insist on short term gain
to our detriment.

It’s our right!
and it’s a mystery.

We got really good at making,
and then at selling,
then consuming.

China was impatient
to grow too,
and so they did.
Now in their cities
they hardly ever see the sun
or blue sky,
but they’re getting so much better
at building fancy cars.

It’s their right!
and it’s a mystery

You have yours
so I’ll have mine.
Let me manifest my destiny!
Don’t get between me
and my ocean.

When did wisdom become
a dirty word,
or a stumbling block
to progress?
When did the law
and justice
become enemies,
the first for revenue,
the latter
to symbolically appease.

Might may make right,
but all fists
grow old
and lose their grip
on fortune.

It’s giants’ rights,
and it’s a mystery.

Is it just my sore knees talking
or the explosions in the news?
Why are so many
willing to kill
to express their views?

I confess to being weary
with us,
the human race,
the evil
too easy to express.
Father, help me lift up my head.
I’m not strong enough
on my own to abide,
so help me with Your Word
to find peace inside,
and believe that this all
will pass away,
and
a new earth
will replace
this way.

Lord, help us learn to build
instead of tearing down.
Help us practice solutions
and build bridges.
Let us replace Facebook rants
and political hate
with better choices
and level voices.
Let us be the men and women
we admire.
Help us to be quiet enough
to hear you speaking.

Let the mystery of
why so many harm
become the mystery
of why so many heal.
With your grace,
help us be the ones
who reveal
Your love for human-kind
through Your death
and resurrection.

Thank you Lord,
for listening.

Jesus & John the Baptist

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John the Baptist preaching
in the wilderness of Judea,
saying,
“Repent for the kingdom of
heaven is at hand.”

He prepared the way for Jesus

the kingdom is at hand

baptizing in the Jordan river

the kingdom is at hand

then Jesus came from Galilee
but John said, “I have need to be baptized by You, and do you come to me?”

in the Jordan river
the Holy Spirit came down
in the river
as a dove
with the heavenly sound
of the Lord
saying,
“This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
I would be on my knees!
In the Jordan
Jesus and John
in the Jordan
Pharisees and Sadducees
the beginning of the end for these.

in the Jordan

Expectations

Give ear to my words,
O Lord,
Consider my groaning.
Heed the sound of my
cry for help, my King
and my God,
For to You I pray.
In the morning, O Lord,
You will hear my voice;
In the morning I will
order my prayer to You
and eagerly watch.
Psalm 5:1-3

I wish I started out every day like the Psalmist.
The truth is there are way too many days
that are off to the races before I’ve really
given God a chance to be involved in my
plans. David wasn’t afraid to throw it all
on the table before God. My favorite part of this
Psalm is at the end of the third verse where he
says, “In the morning I will order my prayer to
You and eagerly watch.” For David, his God was not
cold, silent, and still. He put his prayers out before
God and “eagerly” waited to see what God would do.
God wants to be involved in your life, but your attitude
and expectation will greatly determine His degree of
involvement.

Boston

As we all consider the evil that has once again put itself on display, this time in Boston, at the sight of the yearly marathon, I believe it’s important to remember that God is just. We may think occasionally that the people who perpetrate these kinds of horror go without punishment, but this is not true. While it is our responsibility to deal appropriately with those responsible, ultimately nothing escapes Gods judgement.

You have a strong arm; Your hand is mighty, Your right hand is exalted. Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; Loving-kindness and truth go before You. Psalm 89:13-14

Finally, the words of my wife’s mother, Marlene, who passed away in 1976. She wrote this song to express the freedom she had in the Lord. I would like to dedicate it tonight in her memory to the victims and their families in Boston. It is entitled “I Am Free.”

I am Free. In Him do I
abide. Molded, yielding,
a promised bride.
He set my spirit free; on
wings I can ascend, to
light and uncharted places,
to commune with my Friend.
Indwelling Joy floods my soul,
lifting, filling, in His control.
I am free. Jesus set me free,
on wings on high, to melt
in Jesus’ holiness. To praise
Him, extol Him and Glorify.

M.C.