Windows to the Soul

I’ve inadvertently entered into a social experiment – one of those where you pretend to be disabled, a single mother, schizophrenic, etc and see how people react.  When I, who could pass as a high schooler, walk around with the African-American baby I nanny, there are quite the variety of reactions…

Spring has sprung –
a new day has begun.
We are enlightened, brightened.
 
Blind to color we claim to be
but a different kind of blindness is what I see.
 
Blind to the colors of the Divine Artist – 
an artist of stained glass to be specific,
windows being his specialty.
 
He works only with the finest, priceless glass
illuminated with brilliantly varied colors.
His windows are world-renowned!
Reflecting the same Light but looking oh – so different
a veritable paradox.
 
Meditating upon the work of this Artist –
(perhaps you’ve seen some of it?)
and in search of Truth, Beauty and Goodness,
I walk on the edge.
In the shadow of the woods
I see the dark undergrowth of “equality.”
 
I thought this was a “new” haven?
Old problems dressed up in new rags –
rags that threaten to hide the work of the Divine Artist.
 
So on this walk (a treasure hunt really)
I discover to my dismay –
birds of a feather still flock together
(especially those stubborn ducks!)
at the edge of the woods.
 
Who am I to disturb the status qu(ack)o?
“Who is this that appears like the dawn?”*
 
“Look at that!  A white woman with a black baby!”
I’ll spare you a lecture  on genes,
but while we’re on the subject,
please pull up yours.
 
Sir, I ask just a moment of your time
I beg you, step inside.
Let the dawn of a new day
illuminate our souls.
 
What color is your heart?
 

*Song of Songs 6:10

Advertisements

The Wisdom of a Fool

 
Independence is the catch of the day,
Autonomy the name of the game.
 
I am a fool
 in a world that has moved onto bigger and better things.
 
Plugged in, connected
friends across the pond
while you sit next to strangers.
 
Quantity has thoroughly beaten quality,
in what was never a fair fight.
Truly more connected,
But to whom are you connected in Truth?
 
Boasting of connections while scorning dependence.
 
Our faces displayed for all to see on a “book”
Showing more, sharing less
the more you “share” the less I see.
Who are you really?
 
The eyes are the window to the soul –
a theological truth, not just a pretty phrase.
 
When we see face to face – 
we will see all.
 
Even in one dimension,
your eyes plead for me to listen
they scream fear, fear of that one thing –
 
But Independence is the catch of the day,
Autonomy the name of the game.
 

Bowed With Fear

Oh fear, why dost thou persist?
You are a most unwelcome guest – On your departure, I must insist!
 
You came as a comfort, I must admit –
the comforting weight of a blanket.
 
On my shoulders you have sat,
offering protection – you would insist.
 
You soaked up my tears,
unbeknownst to me –
growing heavier and heavier.
 
Now I am bowed over
and yet unable to bow before my King.
 

 

Praying with Merton

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.

Yet, my heart is joyous. ie possessing the qualities of, full of – joy

 
I do not see the road ahead of me.  
I cannot know for certain where it will end.

But that it will pass by the place of the skull.Though it may require fasting, it will end in feasting.

Nor do I really know myself,

Is that not what this road is really about?  You, Lord, knew me in the womb.

and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.

Well, that’s terrifying.  Jesus help me want what you want.

 
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

Like children, we bring seemingly meaningless trinkets to lay at your feet.

Our earnest desire inflames your heart with love.

 
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

My Hope is in you alone. Hope – expectant desire.  This road of fasting will end with feasting.