Come, sister: sit with me to watch the wonder of God dazzling within us like sparklers against the night sky. Come, brother: tend the fire with me into the wee hours as we spin tales of God’s mystery and chide one another to courage. Come, friend: the wait will not be so long if we sing of the goodness of God that knows no limit or hindrance. Come, family: break open the bread of miracles, pour freely the wine of delight, and we will marvel to find God with us while we wait for the new day.


on Genesis 18:14 — “Is anything
too wonderful for the LORD?”

Advent: Currents

No amount of straining or swimming,
of longing or praying can free me
from the currents of life that I think myself
so adept in navigating. For the stream
runs on without a care and the storms come
(inevitably, invariably) to show off their
lack of care and deference. Tell me, O God,
Thou Convener of Storms and Soothsayer of Life,
tell me truly that you have not created me (us)
to drift like a faded leaf along this creek;
tell me now that our paths are not happenstance
or divine amusement, but purposeful (even
worthwhile) for the short meandering time
that we have them, drifting along these currents.


on James 4:14

Midnight on New Year’s

Would that I could escape this second, stretch out from the bubble that is this hour, and touch the hem of your robe there where you wade on the horizon, there where you watch the world go by out-of-sequence, there where you midwife death into birth and mourning into dancing, there where the soft shadows of yesterday’s dawn dance across your holy face with the blazing lights of tomorrow’s sunset. Would that I could be with you beyond time, without panic that joy is something to be lost, without fear that love is only a flower that fades, without despair that healing is beyond the reach of these days. Would that I could — but o! most Eternal God — if I cannot, then hide me in the hem of your robe until I see clearly the limits of the clock and the frailty of my faith.

on Ecclesiastes 3:11b

Singing in the Whirlwind

Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind: “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Do you know the way to the dwelling of light, to the home of darkness? Can you leap through the heavens to loose Orion or command the Pleiades? Can you soar with the eagle and establish its home on the crag? Or in the depths: can you coax Leviathan from its hiding and calm its roar to a whisper?”
(Job 38-41 excerpts)

I am here
feet on the ground
sand between my toes
waves washing over me
wind whipping my breath away
before I can even sigh
here in a moment
that is everything at once
and nothing at all
not the heavens
or the depths
not the haven of dawn
or the celestial pathways
but grounded here
by time and flesh
and wind that whips and swirls
pressures and contains
so that I must be still
must listen
must hear the song
of expansive sacredness
of glory unbounded
of joy here
in the dusty touch
of heaven to earth where
I wish I were not
I would give anything
to be
I am already
arms stretched wide
not so that I might fly but
so that I can breathe deeply enough
to sing
letting the wind
take each cracking note
from my lips
each gift for the Song
until my longing for the stars
has sung itself out and
there is nothing
but the dance and delight
of my toes in sand and water
in holy ground