My dear brothers and sisters,
you, me, everyone,
take note of this:
Are you listening?
Pay close attention!
Everyone should be quick to listen,
to the reasons, the evidence, and the
on all sides,
slow to speak,
not jumping to conclusions,
not demanding center stage in the discussion,
and slow to become angry,
irritated, condemning, and disrespectful,
adjudicating without regard for each person’s
I look down at my hands and know that within those tissues and cells, blood is coursing,
minute after minute, circuit upon circuit. But where is my soul in this pink, freckled flesh? Where is my spirit in this troubled, pondering life?
Is the soul hitching a ride on red blood cells as they careen by the white?
Is my spirit holed up in one of my vital organs? My brain, maybe? Concentrated in a command center, overseeing all my worldly cognition.
Perhaps soul and spirit share space, intertwined in the four chambers of my pulsing heart.
But when the soul is gone, the hands are still there, and even the blood; but what stops really when we say life is gone? As the flesh cools, lying motionless, is the me-part that is really me immediately absent,
or hovering, waiting for further instructions?
It is said to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord, but I am wondering when the absent happens. What changes in that one fragile second to another when what was thought alive is now
and these carnal threads release their hold?
Many things you fear come to pass, but
most don’t; and
since you never know which will or won’t, it makes more sense to fear none. But
my Pollyanna is more my Puddleglum, and
my optimism quotient is tempered by what is truly possible on this broken planet; so
how does a glass half empty gal have faith without feeling like it is more about wishful thinking and cooked up certainty?
How to live in the real world with real faith when real is often reeling with the now and the what could be? Yet will I praise Him.
“Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” ~Matthew 6:34
Even when a rose is dying, there is magic in the color and form, knowing that life is still there ready to be reborn.