I hear the cross of my calling this morning—church bells ringing all through the night
Psalm 62 keeps replaying, recalling, clanging…
our time, our hour, to dive into His Pain and Light. To consecrate our sufferings…
into His Life, without shame or blight. For He is not ashamed to call us lovers, brothers, sisters, friends!
To release our sufferings into His. To make His business ours, to make amends.
They tell me to go buy a record player and start celebrating in song
and I know it won’t be long, and I know He is strong in lament.
No part of me is not crying this morning-a Klezmer moment to be sure-the allure of true love,
augmented with the pain of the now instant.
Something real to endure-this beholding, our hour, and I, speechless for once,
The Thumb has lifted, the buildings are falling, and bodies unseen
cascade in gleams, throughout the day, and into Night, our towers, our callings,
leanly falling into splendor..
Flashes of perfection in mid air, we are. Photoshopped into glory.
Flecks of a larger story!
So many friends downed, tumbling,
so many brothers and sisters beheaded, their stories lumberingly magnified
rumbling beneath the earth. Still,
so much strife, so much confusion, calls to arms in the midst of bruisings…
Then those two birds arrive this morning (cardinals no less-in there red flared selves, proclaiming the Blood which saves) and, they eat the seeds I put out last night in the bird feeder, and they make a way…
(and Noah sent two birds out when the world was in tumult, and there was once again, eventually,
rainbowed-Hope.) Our small sufferings are nothing compared
to His—so deeply embedded, embodied in each person’s pains, Him.
Our specific lamenesses become His incarnation point, His landing spot.
So intensely caring for each contoured mishap-each falling Body-each pop on the pavement! Each bounce of being matters.
And still fluttering in His Own beholding-above us, within us.
And still adoring us, despite ourselves.
And we start to sing again, having been seen, despite the times.
And the trajectory of our flights as we fall become His.
And, We, together, mount up as eagles in the end-
half way down-us. Him, descending for our sakes
as the greatest Super Hero ever.
Looking for Lydia this year!
Finding the Lydias in your life this year… Recall that Lydia was the first woman in Europe to turn towards the message of St Paul.