Saturday, January 28, 2006
Light
The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not. He came to his own home, and his own people received him not. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God; who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God John 1:9-13 RSV
Light blazoning across the dark void,
starlight,
burning dust,
a city on the hill, shining.
Light captured in the laughter of a child.
Light revealing the imperfection
the crack in the steel,
the flaw in the stone,
the darkness in the heart,
the delusion of desire.
Light dancing in the night in celebration.
Light showing the way in the darkness
revealing the pitfalls,
revealing the wrongs,
revealing the dark heart that destroys.
Light born under a star in a stable
Light penetrating the darkness of death
there on the hill, suspended between heaven and earth,
in what looks like a victory of darkness..
Light in an empty tomb
as the Light reveals the power of God,
shattering chains.
Light reaching out to bring us home.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not. He came to his own home, and his own people received him not. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God; who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God John 1:9-13 RSV
Light blazoning across the dark void,
starlight,
burning dust,
a city on the hill, shining.
Light captured in the laughter of a child.
Light revealing the imperfection
the crack in the steel,
the flaw in the stone,
the darkness in the heart,
the delusion of desire.
Light dancing in the night in celebration.
Light showing the way in the darkness
revealing the pitfalls,
revealing the wrongs,
revealing the dark heart that destroys.
Light born under a star in a stable
Light penetrating the darkness of death
there on the hill, suspended between heaven and earth,
in what looks like a victory of darkness..
Light in an empty tomb
as the Light reveals the power of God,
shattering chains.
Light reaching out to bring us home.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Friday, January 27, 2006
Moments
Gethsemane moments -
moments when I confront
the realities that I must do,
when sitting in the shadows
I wrestle with a heart
that longs to run away,
that longs to cry
"Why me, Lord?"
that longs to scream into the darkness
"No no no no no!"
yet to do so would be to betray
my Hope, my Love, my Truth, my God,
and under the moonlit shadows,
I join Jesus praying in the darkness,
confronting the conflict between what the will wants to do
and what the will ought to do,
and with him, I pray
"Not my will but Yours."
There are moments of heavy burden,
when I walk the Via Dolorosa,
the way of Sorrow, bearing my cross,
and the burden seems so heavy,
and my arms so exhausted,
and my knees so bruised from tripping,
and my back so scraped by the wood,
and my mouth so dry with the taste of the road's dust
and the sweat of the labor,
and the blood from where I battered my face falling.
And then I see you Lord
walking ahead of me,
so wounded for love of me,
so beaten for sin of me
so valiant,
so loving,
so burdened,
that the tears roll down my face
for what I have done,
and somehow, this cross seems so much smaller,
and I stand up and carry on.
There are moments You plunge me into the reality
of Calvary,
Golgotha,
of the Place of the Skull,
the place of your death,
the place of our renewing.
Here I kneel in the bloodstained earth
and look up into your eyes
and see how far Love will go for love,
and see how far Light will travel into darkness,
and learn how very far the Shepherd will go
to call his sheep home.
Blood sacrifice,
drop by slow drop,
each drop a lover's kiss,
each drop a promise of hope,
and in the miasma of pain,
shock,
confusion,
where you abandon each thing left to you,
your dignity,
your mother,
your life,
your awareness of the Father
until it is only you
and pain
and struggle
and at last,
even that is released
into the maw of death.
And I kneel there amazed
at such a self emptying
at such a sacrifice,
the Maker giving all for the made,
that I am breathless.
And my tears fall,
in remorse for the need,
in sorrow for the pain
in wonderous gratitude at the love.
moments when I confront
the realities that I must do,
when sitting in the shadows
I wrestle with a heart
that longs to run away,
that longs to cry
"Why me, Lord?"
that longs to scream into the darkness
"No no no no no!"
yet to do so would be to betray
my Hope, my Love, my Truth, my God,
and under the moonlit shadows,
I join Jesus praying in the darkness,
confronting the conflict between what the will wants to do
and what the will ought to do,
and with him, I pray
"Not my will but Yours."
There are moments of heavy burden,
when I walk the Via Dolorosa,
the way of Sorrow, bearing my cross,
and the burden seems so heavy,
and my arms so exhausted,
and my knees so bruised from tripping,
and my back so scraped by the wood,
and my mouth so dry with the taste of the road's dust
and the sweat of the labor,
and the blood from where I battered my face falling.
And then I see you Lord
walking ahead of me,
so wounded for love of me,
so beaten for sin of me
so valiant,
so loving,
so burdened,
that the tears roll down my face
for what I have done,
and somehow, this cross seems so much smaller,
and I stand up and carry on.
There are moments You plunge me into the reality
of Calvary,
Golgotha,
of the Place of the Skull,
the place of your death,
the place of our renewing.
Here I kneel in the bloodstained earth
and look up into your eyes
and see how far Love will go for love,
and see how far Light will travel into darkness,
and learn how very far the Shepherd will go
to call his sheep home.
Blood sacrifice,
drop by slow drop,
each drop a lover's kiss,
each drop a promise of hope,
and in the miasma of pain,
shock,
confusion,
where you abandon each thing left to you,
your dignity,
your mother,
your life,
your awareness of the Father
until it is only you
and pain
and struggle
and at last,
even that is released
into the maw of death.
And I kneel there amazed
at such a self emptying
at such a sacrifice,
the Maker giving all for the made,
that I am breathless.
And my tears fall,
in remorse for the need,
in sorrow for the pain
in wonderous gratitude at the love.
Labels: Need for God, Passion of Christ
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Valley of the Shadow of Death (1)
O Valley of the Shadow of Death
where we face the ultimate reality
of how frail our life is,
how near eternity is
at any minute,
coming in pain or shock or fear or sleep,
suddenly there one moment
and not the next,
we think so often we stand in the sun
when we are walking down your narrow path.
O Valley of the Shadow of Death,
in your dark paths,
I shall not fear --
neither ambush,
nor pain,
nor uncertainty,
for the light hidden in you is so bright
there are no words.
He is with me,
My shepherd,
my Lord,
my God
even as I lay trembling
waiting to know if my tomorrow will come.
In his hand is the peace
that makes no sense,
but is sense indeed,
and when the pain and confusion come,
and I do not know what is next,
he comforts me.
Valley of the Shadow of Death,
Gateway into tomorrow,
Doorway,
I will not fear you,
for you open to me my final hope.
May I dwell in the house of my Lord forever,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
where we face the ultimate reality
of how frail our life is,
how near eternity is
at any minute,
coming in pain or shock or fear or sleep,
suddenly there one moment
and not the next,
we think so often we stand in the sun
when we are walking down your narrow path.
O Valley of the Shadow of Death,
in your dark paths,
I shall not fear --
neither ambush,
nor pain,
nor uncertainty,
for the light hidden in you is so bright
there are no words.
He is with me,
My shepherd,
my Lord,
my God
even as I lay trembling
waiting to know if my tomorrow will come.
In his hand is the peace
that makes no sense,
but is sense indeed,
and when the pain and confusion come,
and I do not know what is next,
he comforts me.
Valley of the Shadow of Death,
Gateway into tomorrow,
Doorway,
I will not fear you,
for you open to me my final hope.
May I dwell in the house of my Lord forever,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: In the Valley of the Shadow, Praise and Thanksgiving, Trust
Monday, January 23, 2006
Tipping Points
In the space of a single moment,
In the space of a heartbeat,
an inhaled breath,
everything we know can change.
Conception,
one moment, just a single person there,
the next,
two lives,
two persons,
two souls.
Death,
one moment there,
alive,
a enfleshed soul,
the next,
an empty husk.
Salvation -
One moment,
lost in the darkness,
the next,
touched with the healing light
of the loving God
who longs to hold us.
In the space of a single moment,
In the space of a heartbeat,
an inhaled breath,
everything we know can change,
tipping points
that reach out to eternity.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
In the space of a single moment,
In the space of a heartbeat,
an inhaled breath,
everything we know can change.
Conception,
one moment, just a single person there,
the next,
two lives,
two persons,
two souls.
Death,
one moment there,
alive,
a enfleshed soul,
the next,
an empty husk.
Salvation -
One moment,
lost in the darkness,
the next,
touched with the healing light
of the loving God
who longs to hold us.
In the space of a single moment,
In the space of a heartbeat,
an inhaled breath,
everything we know can change,
tipping points
that reach out to eternity.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Morning moment
The bird whirrs by,
a pine sisken, probably,
or maybe a sparrow,
To hide in a thicket of wisteria branches
until I fill the bird feeders.
Twenty-two degrees,
and the sunlight glints off the white snow,
morning light,
honey sweet.
Quiet moment,
for a moment, I am separated
from the everday reality that is mine,
and come to this special place,
silent
save for hungry birds
and the joyous play of my dog,
and you, O Lord,
who brings me here,
this gift from you,
our time together,
Susan E. Stone, 2006
The bird whirrs by,
a pine sisken, probably,
or maybe a sparrow,
To hide in a thicket of wisteria branches
until I fill the bird feeders.
Twenty-two degrees,
and the sunlight glints off the white snow,
morning light,
honey sweet.
Quiet moment,
for a moment, I am separated
from the everday reality that is mine,
and come to this special place,
silent
save for hungry birds
and the joyous play of my dog,
and you, O Lord,
who brings me here,
this gift from you,
our time together,
Susan E. Stone, 2006
