Ecclesiastes 3

For everything there is not enough time:
not enough time to work or to rest,
to savor or to surrender,
to remember or to dream.
Not enough time, not enough!
But the One Who Holds All Time whispers:
What are you trying to do
beyond what I have given you
to do? What else do you hope to gain
beyond life, breath, love?
You fuss over yesterday and
bite your nails about tomorrow
but I Have Been
from the beginning
and I Will Be
to the end.
Time does not belong to you;
you are only chasing dust with your
frantic busyness. But listen:
Meet me at the beginning.
Let me walk with you to the end.
Make peace already with working and resting,
savoring and surrendering,
remembering and dreaming.
It is enough.
I am forever enough.


I take your hand
because the way is lonely
and it helps to know you’re there.

I take your hand
because I get cold feet sometimes
but your warmth pulses with courage.

I take your hand
because it makes me blush
and turns my steps into a dance.

I take your hand
because it brings us closer:
hand meeting hand meeting hand.

I take your hand
so I don’t forget ever
that love is an incarnate story.

“Do not fear…for I, the LORD your God,
hold your right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10 & 13)

The Heart in Mourning

[the Body is God’s love incarnate]

I miss your Body.
Not any general Body
but your very particular Body.

I miss the way your Body smells —
your Sunday morning coffee fragrance,
the fresh flowers you set out for every season,
the incense of bread and wine and candles.

I miss the way your Body feels —
the warmth of your embrace,
your hands meeting mine,
the holiness of time together.

I miss the way your Body sounds —
the ringing peal of your laughter,
the silence of your tears,
the clamor of your routines.

When I meet the Body incarnate
in new places with new particularities,
I cry because it reminds me of you.

I rejoice that the Body is found in so many places
. . . and I long for home, where your Body
welcomes mine in all of my particularity.

Psalm 13

I miss you,
more than I admit.
It’s been so long, my Friend.
Have you forgotten me over time?

Long ago,
your eyes lit up
when we came together;
now it’s clear that your gaze is asleep.

I remember
how it once was,
and in remembering I hope
that it may be that way once more.

Let your love
be faithful and flowing.
Remember me now, I pray,
and I will laugh to see my Friend again.

Job 14:7-9

“I hear you sigh in thirst,
tired of feeling so dry and cracked open,
longing for an oasis to appear and refresh your soul.
I hear you, and I AM
your oasis even here in the desert.
I AM the hidden stream for your roots to discover,
and I AM your hope
for an unfathomable well, even before
you find and savor the fresh waters of the well itself.
I hear you breaking;
fear not, for I am the green pliability
that can revive the stiffened branches of your faith.”