Work

In a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for honour and some for dishonour…

I didn’t understand why it hurt so much

The weekend when Christians went wild

Tweets of “farewell” and crazy shouts back and forth

Declarations of “Heretic!” to your best friend

Divided souls leading supposed worship while standing next to each other on a stage for all to

Transparently see

There is no love.

…become the kind of container God can use to present to any and every kind of gift to his guests for their blessing…

My soul cried

But I didn’t understand

Why it hurt me so

And now weeks later

I realise

this brought up feelings of times ago

A friend trying the new

The different

Shut down

With words of philosophical differences

Ostracised

Pushed out

My heart felt ripped

Divided between these two sides

When we were supposed to be one

…Run away from infantile indulgence. Run after mature righteousness – faith, love, peace – joining those who are in honest and serious prayer before God…

And the battle lines were drawn

And we faced off

In heated debates

with spiritual pretexts

All a front

For the corruption and darkness of our own

Human hearts

Our brokenness displayed for

too many to see

Tears falling from

too many confused and innocent eyes

…refuse to get involved in inane discussions; they always end up in fights…

The devil rolls his head back

Letting out cackling laugh

As his work is being done

by us

His enemies people

Whose side are you on?

…God’s servant must not be argumentative, but a gentle listener and a teacher who keeps cool, working firmly but patiently with those who refuse to obey…

His taunt fills the air with

Thick smoke that chokes

But it isn’t second hand

We lit that fire

…You never know how or when God might sober them up with a change of heart and a turning of the truth, enabling them to escape the Devil’s trap…

Whose side are you on

When you speak before you love?

…where they are caught and held captive, forced to run his errands.

green words from 1 timothy 1:20-26 (copyright NKJV & The Message)

Emergency

S&S Babysitting inc. is in high season, with overnight watching while parents are away seeming to the be the most popular request of April. A few weekends ago, while supervising three teens, their mother got the call no one wants to get:

“Hello Ma’am, this is Dalworthington Gardens Police Department…”

Heart sinks.

Face drains of all colour.

A thousand tragic situations race through your mind before you decide on a combination of the three worst.

“Your neighbour has caught your dog, it seems she escaped.”

Heart searches safely for a steady beat.

Colour returns.

You prepare the talk on responsibility you will give your kids…and Steve and Sebrina.

At any given time, our whole words could change with that phone call, that email, that message

Of emergency.

Beth Moore describes the three things that can happen to us in an emergency.

Panic.

This is my favourite.

Sheer, unadulterated, woman going crazy and wild.

The “fixers” of us have to find a solution.

And what better solution that seven things all at once.

Chickens who left their heads behind long ago, there is nothing that can control us.

And in this crazy madness

We do

The

Wrong

Thing.

Our panic results in us completely losing the plot, the sense, and hands raised up in the air, all that we held onto is strewn across the sky.

All is ruined.

Paralysed.

Frozen to the spot, the news cripples us with sad results.

Everything stops.

We hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing.

Numb to action, wading in inaction.

Confined by a wheelchair of fear and dread, completely unable to cope.

You stop. And you cannot move.

The tears fall but no hand can rise to wipe them.

You are stuck.

All is still.

When I think about emergencies, I am reminded of Ann Voskamp (www.aholyexperience.com) who says in her “joyful parenting” manifesto:

“Today, I will not have any emergencies.

There are no emergencies!

Only amateurs hurry.”

No emergencies?

What a preposterous thought!

There is always something to panic/be paralyzed over!

There is always something to worry about!

There is always something unexpected that comes up!

There is always.

It is always.

The torrent of life.

The rushing waterfall of pressure.

The never-ending list.

No day will come with nothing to do but sit still.

Each day has something for us. Something good. But something challenging.

“911 what is your emergency?”

“I need help with my math homework!”

“I didn’t get the food “my way” at the restaurant!”

“My son won’t clean his messy bedroom!”

“My boyfriend won’t propose to me!”

All genuine 911 calls.

All genuine emergencies to those people.

What today feels like a genuine emergency, but tomorrow will be the laugh among you and your friends?

Oh, this temporary world, where so much is fading away, tricks us time and time again into believing that what we are seeing and experiencing right now is all there really is.

But when we take the time.

Take time.

Pray.

That moment of silence, where I seem paralyzed, but my stillness allows something greater to move into action

That moment where my panic draws me to the only place I can really gain strength and help.

The emergency fades.

The sirens stop blaring.

And I see it for what it is.

A temporary problem that will not defeat me today.

A temporary problem that will attempt to steal my joy.

A temporary problem that is simply that.

No.

There will be no emergencies today.

Barefoot

The previous nights storm continues to provide me discomfort.

Not enough to wake me multiple times during the night,

She abandons a gift of

A pile of mud and leaves besides the door of the car

For me to traverse

The cold morning breeze shivers my body,

Still pajamad

I place a sweater on top

But still

The frozen feet shiver

A friend’s home

A place of solace and comfort each Tuesday night

Today welcomes me

With pines

Sticks

Jabs

To soft, tender skin

Ceramic tile of bathroom floor

The joy of reading the newspaper

My place of relaxation

Instead

I scan the floor for germ-filled drops

Inside the cosiness of home

I write, make calls, type

Body dressed snug

Toes wiggle in desperation for warmth

Longing for socks

Entering restaurant and scanning menu

Eyes look at me

Well not me

But my

My barefeet

I am uncomfortable

I am cold

I am in pain

I am exposed

My humanity is exposed

Through my

Bare Feet

But this was just two days

And I drove and was inside a lot

But this

This vulnerability

Is Yours,

My child,

Everyday

You walk dirt tracks of

Pain

Knowing nothing

Of anything else

Empathy is not enough.




www.toms.com