true or false


Wise ones tell me that there is a true me and a false me.
The true me is the one formed in the image of God
And gifted is particular ways
To reflect that image.

The false me is the one that I think the world wants to see.
It is the one I want to see,
So that I can feel that I am ‘worthy.’

The same is pattern seems to be true in collections of people.
There is a true family and a false family.
There is a true church and a false church.
There is a true society and a false society.

The whitewash is not working.
Our efforts to be ‘right’
Are, so often, so wrong.

So, how do we learn
To step aside
From the false companion?

Paul’s solution?
Step away from the question of worthiness.
Put down the chore of living up to the law
And accept that you are already accepted.

When I was a kid, I thought of this as ‘do-overs.’
But that just set me up for another round.
When will I learn?
It’s not do-overs.
It’s done.

[photo by Mirjana Veljovic per cc 2.0]

why should I be surprised

autumn leavesWhy should I be surprised that I cannot understand true mystery?

True mystery is not something that can be solved.
It cannot simply be puzzled out and then set aside.
Instead, it burrows deep, pulling me with it,
Until, amazed, I find myself somehow at peace with what I cannot know.

I cannot know – yet I am known.
I cannot grasp – yet I am held.
I cannot find my way – yet, in that way, I am found.

It is, indeed, a mystery.
Unfathomable.
Surprising.
Mysterious.

Imagine that!

[photo by Andrew Birch per cc 2.0]

a tapestry of grace

tapestryPraise God
Praise God
Praise God
For the redemption of my days
For the times when my fumbling attempts at kindness
Hold a tiny hint of true grace
And the words that stumble from my lips
Give warmth.

It is God’s warmth,
But my lips.

I am grateful for the gift of connection
That comes from such an offering:
Connection with my friend
And the connection of us both
With the love-beat of the universe.

This small offering
Is but one thread in the great tapestry.
But it is one thread
And the full tapestry is made of threads
Like these.

Praise God.

[photo by marc falardeau per cc 2.0]

sometimes

open palmWhen you sit
Quietly
With your hands open in your lap
Sometimes
You can manage
To open your mind
As well.

You will begin to see beyond
The boundaries
You have accepted
As true.

And if you are quiet
And open
For just a bit longer
Sometimes
Your heart will open, too
And you will find
That there are no boundaries
For love.

It will find you
And fill you
And then
You will be full.

Of course,
You cannot hold it all.
You will overflow.
Love is like that.
Isn’t it?

[photo by Molly per cc 2.0]

chimes

wind chimesThe wind chimes
Hang outside my window
And when the breeze is low
I can barely hear them.

My ears are deaf
But my heart is held
By their quiet, soft, round tone.
They melt into that hollow.

Every morning
Before the world begins its clamor
And the responsibilities click in place
I am held by unspoken beauty.

Even at noon
When the wind is still
And the chimes hang limp
The beauty of hope remains.

And in the evening
When the cool and breeze return
My heart is reminded.
I find I am held, still.