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My heart turns and returns to your nest,
Most Holy Love, Most Divine Imagination:

Turning and returning on the wings
of both wanderlust and satisfaction,

Turning and returning on the road
of my heart’s impatience and joy.

My soul turns and returns to your altar,
faint with humility and high with praise:

Turning and returning by the rising incense
of sweet revelation and burning prayers,

Turning and returning by the blessed rainfall
of splashing strength and flooding favor.

My heart turns and returns, and
returns and returns — praise God!

on Psalm 84;
cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals

Ramah

So close to your glory, O God,
and yet so very far.

Rachel’s lament fills our ears
from a shul in Monsey, NY to
spiked underpasses in London.

So close to your glory, O God,
and yet so very far.

Rachel’s cries resound among
the Uygur in Xinjiang, China
and firefighters in Australia.

So close to your glory, O God,
and yet so very far.

So far, so far, so far.

And so very close.

cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals

Swaddling

Be not afraid, o my soul,
to hold Love close to your breast,
to wonder at its fingers and toes and eyes,
to marvel at Love’s sweet breath.

Swaddle Love gently, tightly,
as though it is the labor of your womb,
the offspring of your heart, the flesh of your flesh,
as though Love is your whole world.

Hover by Love’s side, o my soul,
to count its breaths and nurture its growth.
Send Love out into the world until your heart breaks,
then see how Love returns to swaddle you. 

Are We There Yet?

Then King David went in and sat before the Lord, and said, “Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far?” – 2 Samuel 7:18 (NRSV)

The #BlackLivesMatter movement is more than six years old. The #MeToo movement is more than thirteen years old. Civil rights and liberation movements around the world are generations old—as old as our love of power and control.

When will justice prevail?

In my pregnancies (many years ago) that resulted in the births of my two children, the final trimesters always seemed the slowest. I thought I couldn’t possibly get any bigger, that each day would surely be “the day,” that the new life inside me was long overdue.

When would the waiting end?

Last year, a new shopping development in my neighborhood dragged weeks, and then months, behind schedule. Piles of dirt and skeletons of I-beams languished while awaiting the vision of a bustling community.

Must delays in construction be inevitable?

King David believed that the work of building God’s house was overdue and that he was the one to undertake such a noble project. God’s reply? “Why do you assume that I’m discontent where I am? Who are you to say that my presence in the world is not yet enough?”

God was already where God intended to be. God’s promised presence was already fulfilled. What David believed needed to be started, pursued, labored over, and completed for God’s sake was already ongoing.

God was already there, bringing David along the way.

We still have so far to go, O God. The work of justice seems eternal, the wait for new life seems long, the aspirations we undertake in your name seem to be forever incomplete. We might never reach the end of it all—but God, please promise that our progress isn’t a measure of your arrival.

written for the Daily Devotional

Love

How is it that my Lord can love me
from the depths of hell to the heights of heaven?

How has it come to pass that I am the beloved
of the Sovereign of angels, the Commander of the dawn?

 Yet there is the sun — a sign in the east —
greeting me across the chasm of the universe.

And there is the child — a sign of new life —
delighting in honey no matter the world’s bitterness.

How has my disgrace been hidden from ridicule
so that my name brings joy to the ancestors?

I cannot explain or comprehend such grace,
but only testify that I am saved by Love.

And here is the sign:
God is with me.

Hallelujah!

cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals