Child of God
You're not enough You’re too much You’re too young You’re too old You're too sexy You're too plain You know too much You know too little You’ve got two x’s You should have one y You don’t fit in You’ll never fit in Unless we say you do (and we won’t can't don't) Jesus Jesus Jesus Help me crawl into our Poppa’s lap I need to hear Him say again You’re my child Too And I made you Just so My child My child My child
Your place Your place Everyone in your place You're very good at keeping me in mine you are With structures and systems and time being on your side an’ all Who I wonder (and not for the first time) Is keeping you in yours Though
In the silence You meet me there My heart rent before you And The broken spaces too filled up with My faults and theirs Your grace and mercy Your love and peace Restore Repair Renew Again All from You Poppa All from You
Is it really all about Me Mine I (and rights and freedoms and don’t tell me what to do) I thought the common good was the thing The other The weak The poor The disenfranchised The lonely The sick The lost I thought the Other was the thing That We were meant to be on about (You know) The least of these That HE is always on about Or If not the least of these Then at least The Body So many amputated now Wounded Cut off (from one part at least) Because It became too much about Me Mine I (and rights and freedoms and don’t tell me what to do) (an unintended consequence I’m sure) How When Why Did we lose The Way How When Why Did the Main Thing Cease to be The Main Thing How When Why Did we make it all about Me Mine I (and rights and freedoms and don't tell me what to do) When (perhaps we lost our way a long time ago and didn’t even realize that we did) Jesus Your beloved Bride is Broken Angry Confused Forlorn Lost Spirit come Rescue Revive Redeem Restore She needs New life Again
Homemade bread and Ice cold well water (tastes of iron but still) Garden cukes (sliced just right) Butter Salt mmmm
Forgiveness is easy Like skating on glass If you don’t peer to closely At the wrong But If you gaze long and hard And consider all the stuff You might go crashing through the surface And Drown
Good morning little magpie Up on the chimney Miraculous that you can fly At minus 33
Sully transitive verb: to make soiled or tarnished : DEFILE Please do not Sully Sully With The demand For Rights The preoccupation with being Right The squeezing so far over to the Right That love joy peace patience kindness goodness faithfulness gentleness self-control Flee (being no room for them an’ all) Please do not Sully Him Make Him Unrecognizable So soiled So tarnished Defiled By Self (ME MY I MINE) Rightness Please do not Sully Him With That
Soaring over the snow sheltered sphere Peaceful Predatory Your majesty arrests me I’m grateful Your presence calls me Reminds me to worship The One The One who orders all things well The One Who Brought you and I together For now Just Now
I miss the days Of daily newspapers and three channels on tv and two (mainly) on the radio I miss the days When everyone mostly said and read the heard the same thing I miss the days Of reading the Saskatoon Star Phoenix And the Snap and crinkle and woosh and sigh Of the paper being read I miss the days Of friendliness When everyone was listening to the same voices (mostly) And laughing at the same jokes I miss the days Of daily cartoons (the best ones ending up on the fridge or the bulletin board at work) I miss the weekend funny papers And racing to see them first I miss the days When 'See you in the funny papers' Meant something Don't you?
Colleen R. Jantzen 