Showing posts from February, 2017

Distressed Flock

Drudgery in this walk And dry the place I know that we are tired The bugs, the heat The grass turned brown Oh for those days inspired. We left the fold And village cheer Our Shepherd on ahead With hopes of high And verdant times No sense of doubt or dread. The Man before Would sing and march And watering holes unearth Quite safe with Him As wolf lurked round We thrived in second-birth. Then clouds had come And drizzling tests The path turned mud Quite slick And some would fall Their lungs awash And most lost heart when sick. The Shepherd still Would share this test And doctor when He could And bring to mind Much hallowed verse As we knew that we should. A single day of sun Told us His hope Could not be quelled. But soon a drought Burned off all damp Parched bellies Ached and yelled. So this the goal? We asked ourselves A string of stretching trials? Where gone the song And sky-blue hopes Sweet fellowship and smiles? But then He comes Right in the face Caressing stricken heads And p…

Brebeuf, Ending

I wonder what price For this journey From textbook To strange tongue Tall pine From abbey And penance To portage And comrades All hardy in line. The trek to The New World So dazzling The ocean skies Beckoning on And red faces Stare at our larder And implements Toted so long. They sense There is help In this process The prayers Ministrations so new The children All laugh in the stories While parents see Snows to get through While parents tend Fields of the maize corn And cut needful pelts From wild friends And murmer Of enemies looming Will our Jesus <

Materials Right Here

There is a legend of an artist, who long sought for a piece of sandal-wood out of which to carve a Madonna. At last he was about to give up in despair, leaving the vision of his life unrealized, when in a dream he was bidden to shape the figure from a block of oak-wood, which was destined for the fire. Obeying the command, he produced from the log of common firewood, a masterpiece. In like manner many people wait for great and brilliant opportunities for doing the good things, the beautiful things, of which they dream; while through all the plain, common days—the very opportunities they require for such deeds lie close to them, in the simplest and most familiar passing events, and in the commonest circumstances. They wait to find sandal-wood out of which to carve Madonnas, while far more lovely Madonnas than they dream of, are hidden in the common logs of oak they burn in their open fire-place, or spurn with their feet in the wood-yard. (a helpful devotional book, 1891, Making the Mos…

Exhale (with Plumb)


Clearing (Hebrews 12:11)

I stand here
In this place of former sorrows
Where rain had drenched the trees
And stung my eyes
But now the sky is blue
And clouds have passed on
And brilliant golden glory
Meets my surprise
The ground is sure
My Lord through all
Upheld my safety
And loving ones
He nurtured just the same
The Shepherd knows
The path, the perils
And the purpose
And I His treasured charge
Must praise His Name.
Oh how I moaned
When drizzle soaked my spirit
Expectant singing droplets
Left unheard
But in the flowers' fresh fragrance
Now I hear it
And thank Him
As a free high-flying bird.

Princess of Grace

She is all smiles
And it’s five thirty AM
Overnight shift at coffee shop
Juggling counter and drive-thru
Unscrambling garbled orders
From sleepy patrons
And offering her best.
Frightfully thin
Hair pinned under Company cap
Probably a grandmother somewhere
And smiling unshakably
Catching every detail
Offering every option
(And the franchise keeps adding
New and trendy treats.)
She looks you straight on
Offering the same graces
To homeless guy
To out of town salesman
To yawning shift worker
To cop on the beat.
To college student pressed with exams.
She brings community
And care and contentment
Rare commodities in the rat race.
And for minimum wage.
With some shaky promise
Of extra hours
From an owner
Whose only hands-on job
Is buying napkins and toilet supplies.