It’s the Word that cuts right through to the quick to the heart of the matter through tough scar tissue and cataract blindness so thatsuddenly the light shines inhealing abscessed recesseswaking somnolent brain cellspouring nourishment into the souland thenexclamations of awerecognition of truthdelight in the intricate planwith its certainty of rescuewhen heardfor the very firstContinue reading “Right Through to the Heart”
Tag Archives: Africa
Like a Weaned Child
Your heartbeat spins the galaxies and pats my back to calm me. You are so good, and true, and I am loved by you. Compassion is the constantinstantoutflow of your heartin perfect syncwith wisdom,beyond myopic sight.I’m nesting here,the shufflinghush ofangel wings subduing other sound.This quietwithout answersis the peace that heals my wound.And yet your WordhangsContinue reading “Like a Weaned Child”
You Are My Shade
You are my shade when the sun beats down with tropic heat, when its beams creep in like crafty spies, when it hides its face but penetrates. You are my shade. You are my shadewhen the enemy blasts with full attack,when he sneaks in wearing a new costume,when he comes behind me to whisper lies.YouContinue reading “You Are My Shade”
Prayer to the Shepherd
I walk beside a river and you hold my hand as we exult in beauty. When the sky turns gray with a storm rolling in you shelter me from pellets of ice, rough winds,sky fire, or even justa cold wet downpour.Next comes a hilly incline,tiring my calf muscleseven though this is onlyslightly draining. It’s training.ButContinue reading “Prayer to the Shepherd”
Punctuating the Separations
I greet distance once again, geographic separation that clips my best strong heart connections, separates close friends, my loved ones. The threads of tendernesstrail tears over continentsand disappear intothe salt of seas.“Goodbye!” is the wordthat stabs me, punctuation tothe phrases of my lifeeven while it sends my love after a heart.Delight moves throughshared sequences(some catapultedContinue reading “Punctuating the Separations”
He is at Work
God stretches out his arm, his right hand goes to work, and what was meant for tragedy is tweaked and tuned to good. We cannot see ahead, we don’t know when or how a dangerous trap’s been set in place to frustrate, crush or kill, But since he holds the worldsecurely in his palms,he knows!Continue reading “He is at Work”
Deep Calling Deep
I keep to shallows. You are the deep that tugs my feet from under me, blasts ears with fury, floods each orifice until I’m swept away, my deep imploded to a black hole, resistance convoluted to a vacuum. Ravished, I find your waves and breakerstender with thetropic warmthof a trillion suns,millenia of moon tides.You areepicContinue reading “Deep Calling Deep”
Radical Change After Pentecost
Extraordinary hyper-power pulsates inside this fragile jar. Its fried glass, splintered to a mosaic of prisms, splits the beams to violet, green and red (shocked with gold) and casts pictures through the night onto dark walls: images of glory, stained glass come alive and radiating metaphors: a king bathing slaves’ feetwhile a woman’s hairwipes hisContinue reading “Radical Change After Pentecost”
The Red of Love
Love—deep red love— came struggling through the pressure of the birth canal and landed safe in loving handsthat washed away the bloodand held him close.They did not know, not yet,that Love’s own bloodwould someday spurtfrom lashes to his back,from nails plunged straightthrough his own hands,and through his feet—blood of Life and supreme Lovethat would bringContinue reading “The Red of Love”
Open Home, Open Heart
The travelers walked in the front door, hot and dusty after hours on dirt roads. Mom always found room at the table, one built for her by Dad, big enough to welcome at least a dozen guests. She added another vegetable, salad, bread—done! There was always enough.Then, grown up, it was my turn.I learned toContinue reading “Open Home, Open Heart”
Linnea's Lines 