At the very edge of hearing,
at that fine line
between what is in and out of reach,
in the wondering moment
where a fragrance is apprehended
but unrecognized,
when you gaze intently
and in the shift between seeing nothing
and seeing something (who knows what),
there,
God arrives.
gather the eyes in
stand and seek them out
the tired, the hopeful,
the sad, the skeptical, the inquiring eyes
gather each pair
with these upraised arms,
this gaze, these words
I gather you in
gently patting you into place
this place
this place here
this smooth hollow
of worship
Christ comes as a gift into your life,
but he doesn’t come
wrapped in shiny paper and ribbons
and you can’t say
“Isn’t that nice,”
as you quickly slide him under the bed
or store him in a dark closet
thinking that someday you’ll find a place to put him.
Christ is a gift that you can’t
pack away neatly in a box,
bringing him out for special holidays
Dear God:
The newspaper brings nothing new
only an old, old story of war—
more bombing, more shooting, more bloodshed.
One more family wailing a funeral song.
Against the backdrop of brutal images,
we hear the old, old story of an angel with good news,
who brought good tidings of great joy for all people.
Angel of Bethlehem, we long to hear your song again this day.
We want good tidings for countries in crisis.
We want good tidings for people who long to govern themselves.
We want good tidings for soldiers caught in webs of violence.
Even in the small schemes of our lives
there are times when we come upon the big mess
which we may or may not have caused.
The challenges given, the first shots fired,
volleys of words thrown like grenades,
the bodies prone, the revenge promised…
war even on the tiniest scale wreaks havoc
and rejects consolation through the years.
The fog of war never completely lifts
but the casualties are completely clear.
Trust and innocence blown to smithereens,
hope sidelined in the trenches
with bitterness like a rat
So much in love
this happy couple can’t stop smiling,
their eyes drawn into each other’s joy.
The pictures will capture this moment
but only you can capture this spirit
embedding it in the long-term memory
hardwiring it as the default setting
making it a part of their life’s blood.
Grant them love that is long in forgiveness
and wide in laughter.
God who gave me children,
give me wisdom in the in-between.
Between the child and the adult,
between the clinging and the pushing away,
between the I love you and the I hate you,
between the we and the me,
between the innocence and the maturity,
between the fearfulness and the confidence,
between the needing and the not needing,
between the staying together and the going away,
On the day fear parks itself in my throat;
when the mountain to be climbed
is the next twenty-four hours
and my ears already echo
with the news I do not want to hear;
as my stomach plummets
and fear pick-axes my heart;
while my mind careens
from possibility to possibility;
as the edges of my known world crumble,
God, this is about the secret sins
which we have managed, we think,
to conceal from others
but which are an open book to you.
You see the sly dishonesty, the creeping pride,
the selfish preoccupation,
the lustful thoughts, the abusive actions,
the crooked business dealings, the tight-fisted stinginess
and the fear of facing consequences we deserve.
We have prepared a bitter table and sit alone.
The unseen guest at every table surprises us
I am a Mennonite pastor currently teaching theology at Conrad Grebel University College in Waterloo, Ontario. I’ve served congregations in Ontario and most recently, Alberta.
I love to write and to lead worship! If you are finding my writing helpful, I would love to hear from you! Feel free to use or adapt the material here, it is all written by me. If printing material, please credit “Copyright Carol Penner www.leadinginworship.com” (and say whether you modified it). If publishing, please contact me for permission. Contact me at carol@leadinginworship.com
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