Missing the Mark

archer

If sin is missing the mark,
And I am human
Isn’t missing the mark inevitable?

So, how is that my fault?

 

What if I’ve missed the point
As well as the mark?
What if it is not so much about avoiding sin
As learning from it?

Adjusting my aim
Strengthening my arm
Trying to actually see the target
Amid all the distractions.

Of course, I can still
Shoot myself in the foot.
Not trying is not allowed either –
Else it turns from sin to something else

This can’t be an excuse
Or I’ve missed it, again
And more …
AAAUGH!

Life as a caterpillar is hard
When you are really born to fly
And the crysallis of this life
Binds too sadly tight for complacency.

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[photo P9194059 by Ian MacDonald per cc 2.0]

I Need Help

pile of papers

Oh help, again
Again I am overwhelmed with my day
Again I find that I have said yes too often
And spent my time on silly things
Again I am panicked at being found to be a fool
Again I find myself inadequate

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My Problem(s) with Lent

coins William Sloan Coffin offers a reflection on the story in the second chapter of Mark about the man with paralysis, whose friends lowered him through the roof to get to Jesus.  Coffin focuses on the courage required to accept the gift and the challenge of healing.

“With no difficulty, I can picture myself lying on the pallet, the center of the crowd’s attention. I can image myself enjoying the ability to use my distress to manipulate my friends. I can certainly imagine the comfort I would draw from the words, ‘My son, your sins are forgiven.’ But when, following the indicative of forgiveness, I heard the imperative of responsibility – ‘Rise, take up your pallet and walk’ – I think I my inclination would have been to murmur, ‘No thanks, I think I’ll just stay here on the stretcher.’ (p.12-13)”

“… if it’s hell to be guilty, it’s certainly scarier to be responsible – response-able – able to respond to God’s visionary, creative love. (p.13)”

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The Mirror

hand on mirrorI stand looking in the mirror. I don’t often visit myself in such a way. I like a conjured image of myself, better. The me in my mind’s eye is wiser, kinder (and not so wrinkled). No wonder I prefer it.

No wonder that I need to hold myself still before an honest mirror on occasion. Honesty is the admission price for insight and growth. It is the foundation stone for relationship – else, how is a connection made – and with whom? Yet, it takes a funny kind of courage to stand here – to really look.

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