. . . to go back in the water! If you look closely, these calm waters in the reflecting pond house some scary alien creatures! (You may have to squint. 🙂 )
I love water, but reflections in water is a fascination.
Oh, Lord of the broken and heartsick,
of the world weary and tumult tossed,
Oh, Lord of the fractured and failing,
of the wounded and flailing,
have mercy on us.
May our beliefs align with Your truths,
and may our weakness not hinder Your kingdom work
here in this battleground
between earth and heaven,
between the cross and the crown.
Oh, Lord of the blind and beleaguered,
the willing but wanting,
have mercy on us here below.
May our hearts break for the living lost
and our hands be quick to holy tasks
here on this hallowed ground
between world and wonder,
between sacrifice and song.
Oh, Lord, have mercy on us here below, we pray.
When what was and now is not happens in a wisp of a moment,
when friends become foes, exchanging their trust for biting and isolating words,
then it is plain to see that we are living in an upside-down world.
When conversations meant to break down barriers instead erect the worst kind of walls,
when what I see and what you see suddenly are
oddly at odds
to the vision once shared,
then it is pain to see that we are as much a part of this upside-down world as everyone we have observed from afar. Tut, tut, what a shame it was. And is.
We are in it, of it, and yearning for all to be made right.
What makes it worse is that the reflection is somewhat like what we hope for; but
in its rippling distortion and ever-changing color, what’s hoped for seems like some cruel illusion.
Far off, unattainable, yet present enough to hunger the soul.
Proverbs 13:12 (NLT)
Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.
slivers of light, blossoming blue-green and lavender
in rippling paths,
a wet veil of wonder, and I wander
in this place
in awe of what is seen–ever aware of the greater unseen.
Can I still stare at the miracles even if I don’t understand?
Can I still sigh glory even when I know reflection covers hidden darkness?
In this moment, I breathe many yeses,
and in this moment, it is enough.
A reflection, broken, ever changing: We live here bound to the deep, layers upon layers,
sometimes muted, sometimes shimmering,
so real, so seemingly solid.
But reflection will not bear the weight.
Its wonder is what it mirrors—the real, the solid, the lasting.