Wednesday, October 7, 2009

"I Have Suffered More Than You"

Getting home from a funeral
It began.
Already bereft and lonely,
The sickness and wretch
Of the humiliated one began.
Pain ensued,
Aching, sharp pains, global
And tears.
There was no bravery this time.
Every movement was calculated
To avoid the awful anguish,
And yet, there was no swift answer.
There is more to do.
There are places to go.
There are people to see.
Agony followed the ache.
Sobbing, pleading, and begging too.
Never before was the one so weak and pitiful and inadequate.
Every bump, every turn, every movement
Was misery.
Time passed slowly, almost as if it had stopped and idled.
More petitions, tears, and appeals;
To make it stop!
Then, finally, the voice.
The voice of comfort and peace.
“I have suffered more than this for you.”
And then, the one had peace and shame.
Endurance was necessary,
It is ‘pain with a purpose’
Suffering causes humility and gratitude,
Juxtaposed to pride and arrogance.
And lessons have to be learned.
He did it!
He, the Savior, did the atonement
Which was greater than the one,
Greater than the sum,
Greater than all.
Pure intellectual learning, an at- one-ness
With Him.
The lesson: priceless, incomprehensible, and devastating.
One had not yet reached the pinnacle of learning.
Who is the one to complain?
No one.
Just one of the many seeking for relief;
Which is only found by following one path.
Were it not for mercy, justice, love, and the atonement,
The one would be lost
Forever.
Faith in the Journey

Teetering on tiptoes over weathered planks,
I grapple for steadiness.
There is fear in my stride-all tentative and wobbly.
The soles of my shoes seem thick and insensitive,
As I shakily glide one foot ahead of the other-
Uncertain if I will find solid ground.
Timidity is not behind this frail attempt for change.
It is the fear of never finding
Azure skies and billowing fluff
And ferris wheels and cotton candy.
It is fear of remaining meaningless to my domains;
That I will end as the servant who would meet the tasks,
But who was never able to move beyond the failing fence of change,
That my geriatric speed resigns me to a fate of nothingness-
Just an existence of stagnance in
an hostile environment of unappreciated entitlement.
The haze that surrounds me prevents my sure footing forward
I cannot see the way out of the encompassing smut caused by ritual,
Engulfing me and drowning me,
like a buoyantless weight dragged slowly down to suffocation.
A new challenge could change all of this...
Suddenly a guiding rope is grasped.
It gives no clues as to its end-point.
It is warm to the touch, in severe contrast to the
damp coldness enveloping me.
Could it mean hope?
One dares not answer.
But it beckons me onward...onward
Slowly at first and accelerating
Like a wheel spinning down an incline-
Steadily, determinedly, smoothly, confidently.
When suddenly a light appears to illuminate my next step-
Then the weathered plan becomes new
And solid and steady.
The road becomes wide and spacious
A chirping of sparrows and robins
Hints of spring melodies of happy days of tree climbing and story-telling.
At last, the pathway is clear
The end?
Still unknown.
Yet, Hopeful.
The journey is a passing of time with adventures left to discover.
All this made enjoyable by the warm hand which pulls me onward,
Then the face attached is in view-
It is beckoning me, encouraging me and I recognize
Him as my Savior.
His courage yanks me from my abyss.
All the while I teetered, His hand, my rope of warmth,
Was always there.
I just never knew how constant,
But now I do.
It makes the trip worthwhile,
Because I realize-
Through faith-
I am not alone.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The Wrestle

Analyzing does little to appease
the troubled heart
of one who cares deeply
for the opinions of
others.
Why the sagging hopes
once so promising whisked away so easily?
The one wonders.
The one
sits
ALONE.
Behind the singularity trespasses the
EVIL,
joy-sucking wretch,
like a vicious
venomous viper
waiting, drooling for
it's prey-
And conversely
looms the
silhouetted answer to life's woes.
He waits.
He's paid the price.
But-
the one
duels.
The polarity in the vastness
of the one's emotions
which are part of the one
struggles even to survive,
which survival depends on the answer.
His
is the only opinion
whose value sums the total
of the one's experience & choices.
The one hopes for atonement,
acceptance
& love.
Where is it to be found?
In the answer's mission
the one must accept it
for oneself,
lest the Mediator's
martyrdom be madness.