John and Lisa's Blue Skies Blog – Soaring with God

Life, it often seems,
is a matter of arranging the to-sees:
the had to-sees,
the bad to-sees
and the glad to-sees.
Do you see?

If you bite off more
than you can chew
you choke
or spit something out.

Some things bother and worry me.
Others just puzzle me.
I don’t know where to put the question:
Is the Geico gecko transsexual?

We have to do
what we do
with what we’ve got
or we’ll have not.

Driving cancer patients
to and from their medical treatment,
I’m rewarded in surprising ways:
Whatever may be wrong in my life,
it’s not like what’s bothering them.
I’ve yet to hear a complaint.
Wearing their chemo cammies,
I’m struck by the firm look
of resolution on their faces.

My damned self-destruct switch
is always flipped On —
but thankfully, I see
it’s on a smooth dimmer.
Yes, I can dim the brutal,
insistent glare any time.

Now is a good time

Though the effect never lasts,
and I’m haunted by the past,
I’ll continue to dial down
the harshness — and breathe

Because sunglasses lie

Persistence sneaks past fear
and one day soon, I’ll hear
the switch click at last to Off.

The story never changes.
The characters change,
but the story remains.

Evening:
Bird in a dead tree
Promised light

“Blessed are they who dwell in Your house,
for ever singing Your praise.”
(Psalm 84:4)

This inhabited, sometimes haunted house,
O Lord, often weak and cold – journeying
one painful step at a time, like
a skeleton held together by metal rods –
is still Your sacred dwelling.

Bells and songs ring out, often
with wordless groans, night and day.
You hear them say:
Help! Have mercy!
It’s barely bearable pain!
What is this?
(Maybe it’s manna.)
These songs, indeed, convey
my authentic praise this moment
even more than some
feigned joyous thanksgiving.

A warm rain of tears now
waters the centuries-old foundation
of this, Your house, O God,
where I sit, face toward the dirt,
awaiting the promised Spring
flowers
which will surely sprout.
On that day, I’ll sing
“Morning Has Broken”
on and on while soaking
up the bright rays
of Your eternal day.

Yes, I’m blessed
to live in this house.