I Got Pulled Over…

Some of my thoughts on the Black Lives Matter controversy are in this story.

I got pulled over.

Around midday, I was driving my ’97 F-150 home from a Mediterranean restaurant down 484. I was in a hurry to get home so I accelerated to make a yellow light that turned red before I went under it. Immediately, I heard the chirp of the siren and saw the lights dancing behind me. I pulled over into a parking lot, and I was not ready for what happened next.

Before the officer came over to the window I had both hands on the wheel and my license in my hand. I am white, and the officer that came up to my window was black.

“Hello.” said the officer.

“Hello, officer.” I said.

“You know why I pulled you over?”

Now, I had been feeling frustrated due to the reason for my visit to the Mediterranean restaurant, and I also have a high respect for law enforcement, so I’ll share with you what I said, and the conversation that followed.

“Yes sir, I do. I know I ran a red light back there, and I am sorry. I can explain the situation if you would be willing to hear it. But even if you’re not willing to listen, I understand what I did was wrong. I broke the law. Would you please be willing to hear me as I share with you what is personally going on?”

“Okay.” The officer said shifting his weight to get comfortable listening to me.

“I love my wife. She wanted some Mediterranean food for lunch, and she only had an hour for us to eat lunch together. I wanted to get her some food she wanted because she’s cooped up doing work training on Zoom because of the Pandemic. I was delayed getting the food because there were other people ahead of me, and when I came back it was 40 minutes into her lunch break. When she opened the black bags she didn’t have any sauce or humus. And the menu online was not set up right, so I offered to go back to the restaurant and get her sauce and humus, and to let them know they needed to update her menu. So I went back just now, got the stuff and by this time, I have driven 15 minutes there, 15 minutes back, 15 minutes there again, and now I’m trying to get back because she’s hungry, even though I won’t be able to enjoy lunch break with her. And when I saw the light turn yellow, I was like, “No!” and I pushed for it. And it turned red. I shouldn’t have, but I was frustrated and acted out of that frustration.

“I am sorry. I recognize what I should have done, and I ask you for a warning. I am not entitled to one, and I don’t deserve one, but I boldly ask you for one. I trust your judgment in this case, and if you give me a ticket, I will receive it.”

The officer paused a moment and took my license and said, “Wait here.”

He went back to his car, and looked through, presumably my traffic record. After about 5 minutes he came back to say this:

“Sir, I see in my records that you are a teacher at a Christian school is that right?

“Yes sir.”

“If any one of those kids saw you run that red light what would you say to them?”

“I would tell them I was wrong to do so and that I have repented.”

“You better have. I see on my records you’ve gotten pulled over one other time for running a red light, and you told the officer that time it was due to ‘frustration’.”

“Yes sir.”

“You need to deal with this frustration issue. I don’t want to catch you doing this again. Red lights aren’t optional. You could get yourself or someone else seriously hurt.”

“Yes sir.”

“That’s your warning.” He said as put his notepad back into his pocket. “Now, I’d like to ask you a personal question, if you’re willing.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I blinked and said, “Okay.”

“Does your wife usually send you back to get things that restaurants miss?”

“No sir. This is something I wanted to do for her.”

“Alright,” the officer said as he pulled out his wallet and handed me 40 dollars! “This should cover it.”

I was shocked as I said, “Officer, this is not necessary.”

“You teach the Bible, right?” asked the officer.

“Yes sir.” I answered

“Then you probably know that in Romans 13, it says the governing authorities are servants of God for good, to punish evil behavior and praise the good. Your willingness to go and make things right for your wife is commendable, so let me help cover the cost.”

Tears filled my eyes and streaked my cheeks as I reached out my hand to shake his hand.

“Thank you, sir. I know things are really hard for the police right now. I just want you to know how glad I am that there are those of you on the force who seek not only punitive justice, but restorative justice.”

The officer shook my hand firmly and said, “I hope I never forget that.”

He bid me “Take care,” and I went home to my wife.

The story is fictional, but should it be?

The Pray-er and the Pastor

Once there was a young man who was a devoted Pray-er. He was not very popular and never got invited to parties. The local Pastor invited him to his party and welcomed him into his home, but when he sat at the table with everyone else, the people clamored to get near the popular Pastor, and the Pray-er was politely acknowledged and forgotten about.

On the Day of the Lord, the Pastor and the Prayer were both welcomed to the marriage supper of the Lamb. The Pastor was so excited, and he remembered the time Jesus said, “He who humbles himself will be exalted,” so he sat in the lowest seat he could find. The Prayer also sat in the lowest seat he found.

Then the Bridegroom came in and greeted his guests with warmth and joy! He walked to the end of the table farthest from the head, and politely acknowledged the Pastor. He said, “Faithful Pastor, you may go higher. Go and sit with my groomsmen.” The Pastor rose and was exalted before all the guests. The people rejoiced to see him move to a place close to the Groom!

Then the Bridegroom turned to the Pray-er and said, “My friend, it is good to see you. Come sit with Me.” And He took his hand, and led him up to the seat on his left side, and sat him down closer even than His own best man! The people were dumbstruck, and the Pastor was deeply insulted!

The meal progressed, and the Pray-er spoke, listened, and laughed with the Bridegroom, and the Pastor stared with longing in his eyes. Finally he couldn’t restrain himself and he walked over to the groom and said, “My Lord, thank you for honoring me to sit at the place for your Groomsmen. Please tell me: what did I lack to sit with You at the table?” And the Lord said, “Friend, you have served Me well, which is why I honored you with My groomsmen, and I am glad you are with Me now. This young man devoted himself to being with Me. We have been intimate friends for years, and we have shared much joy and sorrow of life together. Should he not be close at hand to share in the greatest joy of My life’s new beginning?”

Sacred

I stood in a room of lilac walls with three doors. I opened the golden door on the right and the light inside was glowing red. The walls were red. The man inside the door shouted, “It is horrendous to kill an unborn baby, to rip it apart in the womb!”

I closed the door and walked over to the other golden door. I opened it up and inside it glowed blue. The woman inside cried out, “It is insupportable to deny a woman’s right to get an abortion, because what she does to her own body is her constitutional right!”

I closed the door and walked to the third door. This door was wood and white but smeared with dirt and green vines crept along the wall branching out around it. I moved slowly, silently toward it. I reached out my hand and opened the door.

Inside there was no light, but the vines were very green and thick trailing back into the black within. I crept forward and was instantly struck by how silent the place was– as if 1000 ears were listening and none dared to utter a peep to disturb what was being heard. I entered in further away from the lilac-walled room and my eyes began adjusting to the black. The walls were green, but by no paint, purely made up of the things living in this room. Where do they get their sunlight? I wondered. This room looked long-forgotten.

I stepped on a small, leafy sapling twig, which broke making a tiny keek. The effect rippled through the vines of the room and myself concurrently. Both shuddered, calamity filled my heart with ache, and the vines gently pulsed.

But then it returned to the quiet. Something was different. I knelt down to examine my offense. The little leaf was dangling. There was nothing I could do. I shed a tear from my eye which I dribbled with my finger down the stem. It seemed to accept my contrite offering with an unassuming nod.

I looked around the room again. The vine below me was as thick as a sledgehammer-head and ran along the ground to the far wall. And as I looked I saw that a shoot came off from it and increased in length, though much thinner. As I looked, it was clear where the thick vine stopped and where the thin vine began, and yet both were the same vine.

But the answer to the riddle in my heart was not to be found here. My eyes followed the thick vine back into a dark corner of the room. Then, for the first time since entering the room, I started to see traces of light through the thickly-packed growth of the vines clogging every wall. I stepped carefully, and with gentle hands pried close woven vines apart, until I could see: there was a window! And not merely a window but a corner of two glass walls! It had been growing so long that the inner part of the room was deprived of sunlight, but it was still very much alive!

Then I knew where I was. Here was a room with no floor; it was planted in the earth. And all around there was life and beauty and expansion even into the lilac colored room. Here was a room that needed more sunlight to see its beauty.

Then I understood: this vine is living and filling the whole space with its stalks and off-shoots. And yet, it needed care, cultivation and someone to stay here and make it beautiful. Someone who loved the plant could decide how it was best to be kept. It was rightly owed to the root, to the planter of the seed, and the owner of this multi-directional sunroom, for his plant to succeed in its design: full growth. The root decides what will grow, and the wise caretaker must decide once the sapling has had a chance to grow how it will aid the master plan.

I stayed there and received instruction. And I asked my Friend who was with me:

“What do You think?”

“There is more.”

I worked gingerly, painstakingly, and boldly to make room for more sunlight. The effect was unimaginable. The light peered in an ever-widening beam through that dark jungle like a sudden brass solo out of a silent orchestra pit. The vines all reached their tendrils in the direction of the light. The light peered past me into the lilac room, and the vines followed. I kept directing, braiding, organizing, and feeding the stalks around to allow light to shine through. The doorway to the lilac room soon became so overgrown I did not know if I could enter back the way I came again. This however was indeed where I had come to fight the battle for life, and I could see that life was winning again.

Soon, the vines which had sought to wrap around me many times suddenly started popping with life. I turned and looked and saw the lilac room floor, wall, and ceiling was well-lit and now beautified with jasmine, and the fragrance filled the whole room with the sweetness of new life.

All except for the Red and Blue rooms. Their golden doors did not open to let the plant nor its fragrance enter in.

I stepped carefully back out of the room now swarming with life, and as I wiggled my way back into the lilac-colored, now flower-covered room, I turned to the door and started to clean away the dirt smudges on the front of it. As I did a word became clear, one letter at a time.

“Sacred.”

The King and the Seven Realms

Once upon a time there was a powerful King over a vast kingdom, and the Kingdom was beautiful in his eyes. He appointed rulers over the kingdom, but the representatives rebelled and turned the whole kingdom against the King. The Castle was the only place left where the light still shined and where people served the King. All the rest of the lands around were enshrouded in darkness.

But the King loved his people even though they had rebelled. He divided his realm into Five realms which competed with each other, until they could rejoin him. Though this slowed his people’s rebellion down, things kept getting worse and worse.

He selected a man from his people and called him to leave the Five dark realms to be the King’s representative. He wanted the man to show the rest of the realms how they could rejoin the King whom they hated so much. The man wasn’t perfect, but he trusted in his king. The King took this one man and his wife and protected and provided for them until they became a huge family, which became a people. The King set them up in a space that became the sixth realm in the middle of the Five dark realms.

Still, even this family of people which the King had set apart didn’t show the other people how to rejoin the King. They started to take over the other realms claiming they were serving the King. But everyone else despised them. The Sixth realm had become even darker than the other Five realms.

But the King loved the family, and he sent his new-born son, the Prince, to grow up in this family. He hoped that his son would show all six realms a way back to serving the King. But when the Prince was full grown, he looked just like his father, and the whole sixth realm came together against him, and the Five other dark realms came together in agreement that they wanted nothing to do with the Prince or his King, so they had him killed!

Now the tables had turned. All the people were shown for what they truly were: selfish rebels against a good King.  And the Prince who had become one with his people, did not stay dead, but the King  brought him back to the castle where he was brought back to life again! The King was shown to have the power of life over death!

The people from all the realms around, the five and the Sixth, heard the news that the Prince had come back to life. Some would never serve the King again, but others resubmitted to the King’s Rule, and they established little pockets of what was now the Seventh realm: The King’s Kingdom. Light started shining in the dark realms again.

Once all was arranged for the King’s reclamation, the King and his Son went out with a huge army to cast out the rebels who refused to rejoin the King and destroyed their lands. All that was left, he gave to those who had returned again to serve him as their King. He made the Seven realms into One realm again: The King’s Kingdom was fully renewed.

The Prince took for himself a Bride from among the people whom he loved so much and he became the new King. He appointed new rulers: faithful ones who would not betray the King who fought for them, and the new King who gave his life for them. They all lived happily ever after.

The Boy and the Stick

It’s hard to imagine a boy so happy with a 1-inch thick crooked dead tree-dropping, but for this boy, it was a key to unlock the world! It was a gun to fight off pirates, a boomerang to throw at game. It was a sword to rescue damsels. It was for drawing pictures in the dirt. He didn’t have anything else in the world, but with this stick, he felt like a king with a scepter in his hands.

One day the boy was walking by a garbage can and saw a stuffed animal someone had discarded. The boy plucked it out and made it his friend. Later that year his parents made more money, and at Christmas he got a pair of roller skates, and for his birthday the next year, he got a cool remote control car. Well, this boy was so happy with his new toys he left his stick by the back door of his house behind the window sill in it’s secret hiding spot.

The boy got older, and his toys got more sophisticated. He eventually he had grown old enough to get a job, so he could buy more expensive toys: A Four-wheeler, a computer, a phone. And by this point you’d think the boy with the stick had everything he wanted. Nope. He was an adult, he had the car he wanted, the friends he wanted, and was dating a girl, but he always wanted more. Only when he had more, would he be happy.

Then one day the unthinkable happened: He was the victim of identity theft. All his money was gone, and he went back to his parents’ house empty handed. They gave him his old room, with his old toys. none of them seemed to matter anymore. He went outside and sat on the back doorstep and suddenly remembered what was to his right as he was looking out into the woods: his secret hiding place. In a moment of nostalgic curiosity he looked and saw it: his old stick he played with as a boy.

It’s hard to imagine an adult so puzzled by the memories flooding back at holding a simple 1-inch-thick crooked dead tree-dropping, but the feelings came back and this time he knew what they were. He walked back into the house with his old stick which by now had rotted through, so it would break easily, and took it to his bedroom. After a little while, he settled into the feeling he had forgotten with every new toy. He remembered.

The key to the world isn’t owning everything, but truly appreciating the one thing that is truly yours.

Now, the world was his once again.

The Two Rebel Kingdoms

There once was a King who ruled a vast Kingdom. In his kingdom a great General led a mighty army. And the Chief treasurer multiplied the wealth for all according to the King’s Rules. All was peaceful and prosperous.

Then one day, the Manager grew greedy for more money, and he bribed a few select officials in the Kingdom promising them wealth if they would serve him instead of their king. These officials hated taking care of the poor according to the King’s rules, so they agreed, and the Treacherous Treasurer left and established a Monetary Economic culture to the East of the Kingdom, and there was slavery in the land.

That same day, the General grew hungry for military glory and led a coup and there was a war in the kingdom. The General left with a large portion of the King’s armed forces, and set up a military kingdom to the West that Rivaled Sparta.

The King was heartbroken that his subjects left him to follow the his treacherous Treasurer and glory-hungry General. He built a Wall around his kingdom to defend from the Military Kingdom’s soldiers, and the Monetary Kingdom’s slavers. Then he sent diplomats and emissaries to invite the rebellious citizens back to his kingdom to see if any perhaps were merely deceived and could be persuaded to return to the King in his Kingdom, or if they had truly turned against him. But the Military Kingdom butchered the diplomats they were sent, and the Monetary Kingdom took them as slaves.

Finally, the King said, “I will send my son the Prince to them. Surely they will remember what I am like as King, and they will be persuaded to hear him.” The Prince went and called for a truce where he met with the Kings of both these Rival Kingdoms right outside the City walls. When the General and the Treasurer saw the Prince coming, they said to each other, “Let us ransom the King’s son, so that when the King dies without an heir, then we will take the land for ourselves.” They agreed. They saw him coming carrying no weapon, and the Military General scoffed. He wore no purse and the Treasurer sneered. He offered them a  place in his father’s Kingdom, but the Manager took him and beat him as a slave stripping him down to nothing, and then the Military General threw him over to the pit of soldiers who beat him mercilessly. He did not fight back, but he said, “I love you, and I forgive you.” Then he died.

They sent back the dead body to the King on a wooden cart wrapped up. The King wet all the doctors in the Kingdom to work, and set all the people to praying that the Prince might live again. To the joy of the Kingdom, and to the dismay of the enemies, the Prince revived!

Once the Prince was revived, the King delivered his final warning to both kingdoms: if there were any who wished to come to be citizens of his kingdom, they had one more chance before he came and delivered swift justice on his Evil General and Treasurer and any who still sided with them.

Some of the soldiers and wealthy came and repented with great sorrow, and they were welcomed into the Kingdom again. Out of their great joy, they swore fealty to the King, and begged that they might go back to the kingdoms East and West, to see if they could persuade any others to come with them. So they did, they returned and pleaded with the soldiers and the slavers, “Be reconciled to the King!” But these were treated just as shamefully and mercilessly as the Prince was treated.

At last, the judgment day had come! The King took back the Treasurer’s Kingdom first, conquered them, and plundered them. Then the King besieged the Military Kingdom and Prince led the King’s army to a glorious victory, and they exterminated the province. All who did not die were thrown into the King’s Dungeon for life. But those who served the King faithfully were given rule over the newly unified Kingdom, and the Prince was given the Kingdom on his Coronation Day.

The Happiness Room

“All have a desire to be happy, but few have the courage and resolution to grapple with the difficulties that meet them in the way to their happiness.”~ William Gurnall

A man woke up on the cold hard floor of a room. A barred window let in the only light. The walls were smooth and plain, only one brown door with a black knob. No furniture populated the room except a small round table in the center. On the table there was a key and a loaf of bread.

The man got up and walked over to the table and picked up the key and tries the lock. The key was stuck in the lock and didn’t turn. The man frowned and went back to the table. The loaf of bread was fresh, and he ate it hungrily. He saved some for later. Nothing else happened that day and he fell asleep when the light o the day had receded.

The next morning he rose from the cold hard floor and found that the key was still where he had left it but the loaf of bread was now stale. He tried the key in the lock again, and still nothing happened. The key refused to turn.

He returned to the table and ate half of the remaining bread. Being nourished by it, he decided it was time to try some other ways out. He inspected the window and the bars were solid. Next he hurled himself at the door, and his body weight could not budge the door though he tried many times. He inspected the hinges, but he had no tool to take them off.

Suddenly, it occurred to him. He set the loaf of bread onto the ground and picked up the table and ran at the door to smash it down against the door. The table shattered but it also broke through the wood near the door knob.

He smashed it and smashed it and reached his hand through the narrow opening and unlocked the door from the other side.

He left the hard plain room and into his eyes entered a new sight. He entered into a room much like the one he left with barred window lighting, a locked door across from him, and a table in the center of the space. This chamber in additiob had a thin berber red-brown carpet and an opening shelf built into the wall. On that shelf was a tray of bread, cheese, and water. He immediately drained the cup of water since he was quite thirsty and then ate the last of the bread from the old room. He saw a door opposite the one leading from the old room and checked the table which was slightly larger round and oval-shaped. On the table he found a lock pickers set of tools.

The man very clumsily tried the lock pickers tools being very unfamiliar with them, and nothing happened to the door lock. He eased his frustration with the bread and cheese until the light of the day through the window faded to blackness. He fell asleep on the carpet and slept soundly but for a great clanging noise that roused him in the middle of the night.

The next morning he awoke and looked around the room to see what had changed that night. The only difference he noticed was that the shelf built into the wall was now closed behind a metal panel. He went over and fingered hia way arojnd the esge til he foind a latch, and the panel slid down to reveal the tray of food. To his surprise, curiosity, and gratitude the tray was replenished with food and the water cup was full again. He ate of the food on the shelf and drank the water and felt encouraged to keep trying to get out of this room.

He thought to himself if only he could use the wooden pieces from the last room to get through the door, but try as he might all he got was a splinter and a cut in his hand. the wood of this door was of sturdier stuff he guessed. He wrapped it in cloth from the bread tray and attempted the lock picking set. He met only frustration.

Then, it came to him that he should try the key in the other door. He had to use the lock picking tools to even pry the key out of the first lock, and he tried it on the second door. The lock would not turn. He went back to the oval table and examined it. He found nothing. He examined the tray and found nothing underneath it besides the concrete of the wall shelf.

Here the man’s frustration began to edge at him. He felt inadequate to get through the door, he had already hurt himself, and he still had no idea what had caused the claninging noise. He curled up onto the carpet with some bread and cheese and lay still munching away.

He stayed in this room another night and heard the same mysterious clang in the darkness and found his food  and water were replenished.

He sat down on the oval table facing the next door for a while then pced between the two rooms.

It was around this time that he considered a long view approach to his situation. He fingered the key in his hand and realized that this key was probably meant for something, and that “probably meant for something” might be to learn how the lock picking tools simulated a key.

He spent that afternoon studying the key and the lock picking tools and he practiced on the broken door first. It took him countless tries after which he took a break to eat and came back before he finally unlocked the broken first door.

He hurried to grasp the second door hands too shaky from the excitement to open anything. He had just leaped so many hurdles in this one moment that he felt he could conquer the world. He gingerly felt the lock easing under his precise touches with the tool, but he didn’t get it to turn until the sun had completely set. Then CLICK the door was open and he pulled the door back and thought to step into the dark, but for all he knew it would lead downhill or into a trap. He decided to find his blind way back to the carpet and get some sleep.

Before he did, he thought to get some water and food before that panel clanged shut again. He first gingerly felt in the dark and found where everything rested then quickly snatch the bread off the tray with his hands, and then quickly grabbed the cup and guzzled down the sips that remained and then threw the cup back into the dark shelf.

Like a metal jaw the panel sliced shut bumping into his hand as he retracted it. A wave of terror of what could have happened froze his body from torso outward.

He returned to the carpet and eagerly awaited the next day. The twilight came and he rose from his floor bed and pulled the door open.

This room was so much unlike the first two. Color splashed into his sight as yellow,  purple and dark blue met his view on the far wall. Inside this larger parlor scattered all over the place were giant shapes like squares and triangles made of foam, furniture, and a plush bed. The temperature was mild, and there were lamps, a bathroom, and a new shelf in the wall on the side of the room very similar to the one in the room before, but this one had pastries, and chocolate milk and fruit juice.

The only other thing similar in that room to the ones before it,  was the table in the center of the space and after much looking around, a door behind the big blocks. The table this time was rectangular and nothing rested on it but a plain, straight, smooth walking stick.

The newcomer felt no urgency to leave this room. He ate of the delicacies, drank the juice and walked around to the bed and fell into a luxurious, comfortable snooze from which he woke to explore the place further.  Walking around blocks and finding no secret passages and no window in this room he approached the door. There was no door knob. Only a light brown circle of wood where the door knob might be.

It was pretty solid. He pushed against it, and thought of using the stick on the table just as he had used the table,  but he saw that the staff would break if it was swung at something. The table was to heavy for him to manage. He tried manipulating various configurations of toys,  blocks,  triangles,  and nothing got the door to budge. “Maybe it isn’t even a door.” he thought as he set up some Lincoln logs. He also began to wonder if the door knob was hidden, and if he needed to find it in the misat all of these things.

The man spent a week in this room,  eating,  playing, and occasionally, searching. He began to grow tired of the kingdom he built in that parlor,  which he ruled over with his wooden scepter.  He lived like a king,  but with no one else to share it with. He had as much as he could want, but his heart grew weary playing and not progressing.

He left the color room back to the carpeted room, and back again to the first room at which he had started. He lay on the cold floor and remebered: he was a prisoner here. He had once refused to stay, but he had grown accustomed to his cell. Does he still want to get out?

He sat up and looked around.  Only broken pieces of the table remained. He entered the second room and saw the bare table. It had held the tools needed to get into the next room. And the third room held only the walking stick.

It clicked for him. It was simple. He took his staff in hand and ran at the door with terrific speed. With his hands he gripped his pole horizontally in one hand behind and the other in front. Finding himself mere feet from the door, he braced for impact.

With a terrific crack the door broke open a crack and the stopped stuck. A white light from the outside pierced inside. He pushed gently on the door, and then intently. Then harder, and then he used his stick to pry it open. It swung free.

The man stepped out into a white, snowy hillside with white clouds above him and a sheer mountain’s grey face greeting him and welcoming him to this brave new world.

 

 

Math Myth

At lunch today I told this story to some 5th grade kids.

Once there was a division between the Sum and the multiplication. There was also a guy named Minus, who wasn’t very good at doing things. He wanted to remove the division between the Sum and the multiplication.

Minus had one problem. He didn’t have a heart big enough.

So he drank a lot of milk to make himself stronger.
But his heart didn’t grow any bigger.

He went to school and learned everything he could about the division between the Sum and the multiplication.
But his heart didn’t grow any bigger.

After school he gathered as many numbers around him as he could: all kinds of possessions.
But his heart didn’t grow any bigger.

Finally, he prayed and asked God to give him a bigger heart.
And God gave him a bigger heart.

After this, Minus found Sum and multiplication still divided.
And because his heart was bigger now,
He applied himself to the division between the Sum and the multiplication
And Viola! He “subtracted” the division from between the Sum and the multiplication.

The Sum and the multiplication had a party and celebrated with cupcakes.

Then they all made an equation to remember how a Minus is always able to remove the division between the Sum and the multiplication.

That is why there is a minus sign used in the Division symbol.

The Eye of the Storm

I’ve been here before
The world is sprawling around
The rush of water forcing its way
Down, around, along the ground
Inland waves sweep you off your feet
Fear of loss, and helplessness
Feeling too paralyzed to go outside.

Familiar is the feeling when I choke
A shame, a stifling of the breathing life
Situations feel insurmountable
Everything beyond my reach from my unsure footing
Each victory seems one stroke against the tide
Catastrophe feels bigger than reality
I wish I could run and hide myself somewhere.

This is what I have always known
The storm, the shame they have an eye.
One is the calm around which the winds rage
The other is that body’s light, I evade to the floor.
The fear to surge through the fiercest tempest
Only to let the ferocity shatter my frailty
Venturing to enter that gaze safely

Elihu told Job that God was here
Our heart meandering knows this home.
The screaming winds guard this safe place.
The place only the humble seek unswervingly.
As shame gives up the last ounce of covering
Naked and vulnerable just I alone remain
Staring into His gentle clear blue sky.

Always
Through chaos
Ordering all powerfully
Present within our midst.
Testing the heart
Choosing us
Loving

I’ve been here before
The world is sprawling around
The rush of water forcing its way
Down around, all over the ground
I will wait here with Him safely
His presence my security
His eye, my soul’s calm.

On Preaching God’s Word ~ A Poem

Don’t start talking beside the flower
Discussing its hue and classification.
That is description!

Don’t just let the smell be nosed
And tell people how fragrant it is.
That is reporting!

Don’t just finger its petals and thorns
And explain the touch of soft and sharp
That is informing!

You are not yet small enough
To know the flower properly yet
You are still outside.

Like the bee, lowly and industrious
Drawn by the sight, smell, and feel
You are in need.

Wanting life for heart and home,
You sink beneath the pedal’s crown
You seek the source.

The hidden warmth, the ever-present aroma
Of the sweetest secret nectar of Life
Now, you are before Him.