Archive for November, 2010

The Prayer Shawl

I am honored to be friends with the women of the prayer shawl ministry at HOPE church who take their time and use their gifts to bless others…As I was participating in Sabbath today I wrote this to honor them…..though none would accept the praise….they are beautiful women…. being the Church….because they love God and their neighbor.

Smooth satiny needles silently and furiously dancing
back and forth back and forth the dance step almost intrinsic
as if it had a mind of its own,
or could do it alone.
Raspberry course strands dance in tune to the needles rhythm
flowing from the ends
till one is many
and substance is formed.
There is order in all of this movement
back and forth, back and forth
the satin needles crisscross.. crisscross..crisscross
Powerful experienced hands pause slightly
pulling stretching the raspberry twine
checking, counting refining the dance
back and forth back and forth
crisscross, crisscross, crisscross
I watch in awe of the many hands moving effortlessly
yet with purpose and knowing
pulling, checking, counting
doing and undoing.
I am so enthralled by the picture of hands
each creating a different space which will
come together as one
I see each square as created
beautiful, delightful, and ordered
and the vision of them combined
robs my breath and I am humbled
by this act of creation and love
I realize this symphony of hands gracefully moving to the dance
is only a landscape for the hearts that share here
the whispers to heaven for others .
This is community with purpose
Deep church…and I see
in these hands….the hands of Christ
crafting, comforting, crying out to heaven
for those who will wrap these shawls
across feeble, ailing legs,
and weary burdened shoulders,
and mothers who will swaddle their child
fresh from the baptismal font .
And in this I am suddenly aware
that I am in company of God
holiness in the ordinary
and it is beautiful and good
Participating by presence with
those using their gifts
for the sake of others
And in doing so bless
and are blessed in return

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This fall I attended a retreat and one of the poetry workshop gave this assignment of crafting a poem using “I am” statements to describe a scene.  This is my attempt…

I am the mouse who sneaks in the dark

to find treasures left from the night before,

startled by the buzz of the machine that tells me I

am not alone.

I am the nutty steam climbing

among swirls of blackness and cream.

from the edges of a Red and Black Rutger’s mug

that comforts in the space of an absent child.

I am the fluffy down blanket swaddled around pink flannel pj’s

pulled from the tub of last winters clothes, when the weather suddenly but finally changed.

I am the wrinkled sunny pillowcase of 600 count Egyptian cotton

bearing smudges of yesterday’s mascara on my edges like skywriter’s fog.

I am the distracting carmel colored coffee spill

born yesterday from little feet and paws seeking warmth before the furnace had been stoked.

I am the worn leather book with  with the soft padded edges

rounded in hands like soft familiar clay

bearing a rainbow of highlights and dogeared corners.

I am the proud pink grosgrain ribbon, edges frayed by

peaceful and anxious hands, keeping perfect place

like a guard at the palace gate.

I am the verse poured over and loved

in the context of ancients yet

precise for the moment and space.

I am The Voice,  spoken but silent

dividing truth from error

intimate yet other

the same today as before the day

light was separated from darkness.

I am the window glanced through with

two tiny peanut butter fingerprints on my sill,

unable to hold the heaviness of night

from the dawn, I assure with warm rays pouring in across the

crumpled sheets.

I am the child content and silent

at her mother’s breast.

digesting  grace and truth

as pure nourishment for a weary soul.

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