I would like an outfit of thicker skin That I could just don when I need it When words And systems And processes And theologies Rip mine and unclothe me Leaving me Vulnerable And Shivering And Weak And Cold
Orphaned
“These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng.” Psalm 42:4 (NIV) Orphaned You moved Changed And are unrecognizable to me I don’t fit In this family (and I’m weary of making elbow room for me)
Above the Din
“This is my father's world I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas His hand the wonders wrought” (Maltbie D. Babcock, 1901) Walking with You I realize again This is my Father’s world Hard to remember that Hard to hear Your voice Above the din Of Your children Fighting But “This is my Father’s world. I rest me in the thought”
Your Body
“that all of them may be one” John 17: part of verse 21 (NIV) I don’t recognize you anymore I’m out of place Out of joint With you When did the ground shift under my feet And create this angry defiant individualistic I’ll do what I want space that I don’t recognize (or fit) In? When did ‘what you want’ Become more important than What They Need? (consideration, kindness, space, a place) Did it happen so slowly So imperceptible (to my rose-coloured view) That I couldn’t discern it? Did I live in false hope that It Wasn’t Happening? Was it always there? I don’t recognize you Anymore Now I Wait In Silence And Grief And Lament And Hope That you will be restored (getting back to normal won’t do it folks) And I will be able to fully Embrace you Again
Colleen R. Jantzen 