Cross swinging from a chain? Sitting in church every Sunday? Giving to the church? Teaching Sunday School? What makes a Christian? As if that matters anymore. The world has written us off as elitist, racist, oppressive, unwelcoming, manipulative, money grabbing, ignorant, delusional…the list goes on. When will we realize that inside we are all the same? Mexican, Russian or African; Christian, Muslim or Jew. Or whatever. We all want to be safe, secure and part of a loving community. Maybe we need to do away with religion so we can concentrate on the spiritual. Love is the common bond for all of us.
Coasting comfortably on the caress of clouds.
Reaching for meaning in every breath.
Thinking of the crowd of witnesses,
Their tender hands outstretched with love.
Is there truth that surpasses understanding?
Is there hope amidst these evil days?
I count the steps to reach your door,
Yearning for rest, bidding to journey no more.
Only a promise from the precious few
Can treat the soreness of a broken soul.
Come, join the chorus, summoning grace
From the bright heavens above.
Coasting across the grassy plains.
Stopping at a lake for a drink.
Climbing up the side of a cliff.
Dancing around at the top.
Looking out at the pretty landscape.
Listening to the peaceful sounds.
Settling into a comfortable feeling.
Being sure things are as they should be.
Christ mass time is here oh ho ho ho!
Jingle bells are ringing in my ear.
Can you feel my enthusiasm?
Really, I’m happy about it, but
It is stressful with all the expectations
Of joy and merriment.
Carol all your bells and all that, but
Don’t expect me to join in.
Yeah, I know, it’s the season
Of peace and love, giving and getting,
Snow and fireplaces and hot chocolate.
I can’t wait to celebrate and I’m glad
My shopping is all done.
Now, bring on the cookies and candy!
Did you, too?
Have you been there?
Do you, really?
I’m glad you’re here.
I’m glad I’M here.
This is work.
I want to get better.
I wish I could sleep.
I sleep too much.
I’m ready to commit to that.
I’m ready to quit.
I trust you.
Thank you for being there for me.
A light twinkles
In the distance;
It is my hope,
Fragile, yet strong.
Will a big gust of wind
Blow out my candle?
I am protected
By many walls:
Friends and helpers.
That gust of wind
Can blow if it must,
But my light will not
I will use
The tools I’ve been given.
I will continue the struggle,
And I will win.
A light bulb turns on.
Words flow like breathing.
Keeping each other company.
Along for the ride,
Be there for you,
Whenever you need someone.
Any time, any place.
I’ll hold out a light
So you can see your way.
Brothers and sisters
Of mental illness.
When Jesus commanded the storm
To cease and told the wind not to blow,
It could not have been calmer
Than my spirit is now,
Resting in the comfort of good medicine,
Therapy, family and friends,
And the rewards of a day well spent,
My emotions are like a ship
At one with the ocean,
Flexible and evenly balanced,
Moving with the currents of life
Around me. Please bless
All those that have brought me here,
And those that continue
To sustain me.
Thank you, Jesus,
For your grace.
Gliding along the currents of air,
I’m lifted by the light that shines on me.
Love permeates my being,
Like a spear piercing my side.
The nails are hammered through
My ragged wrists. I cry out,
My God, my God, why?
Have you forsaken me?
The dusk descends and they lower
My cross, loosen my body
And carry me to my tomb.
I stand on a mountaintop.
Throw yourself down!
God’s angels will save you.
Turn these stones into bread.
You are hungry. Go ahead.
Freedom! I am set free by God’s hand.
Risen at last and the tombstone
Is rolled away.