Gravity

Truly we speak of the Curse
  As the Fall;
Man has been bound and grasped
  By gravity ever since.

The body grows in shape and mass;
  Each passing year gravity gains force.
The accumulation of years
  Bends the shoulders to the earth.

The human heart finds sorrow
  And trouble in time perennial
Till it fills over-full and ever-heavy
  Weighing the soul ever lower.

Time and age are merely formality—
  We are forever pressed into the earth's embrace.

A Couple Word-Plays

Hebrews 4

In spite
Of our spite
He is
Respite.



Eternal Mysteries

Inspire
Expire
Holy Fire

Church spire
Funeral pyre
Resurrection higher.

Death's Last Stand

This is Death's last lonely stand,

Outpost of pain in the most verdant land:
That Love's deepest unearthly power
Of being faithfully present to all places and men;
The gift of un-self though adversity tower;
Of seeking to better with heart, hands, mind, and then—
To find in oneself a piece of that place, that friend
That growth, separation, or their pain can rend
Into suffering as Love, which love itself cannot mend.

To love truly is fierce joy and pain as one—
Not to love, Death has certainly won—
Nay, Love's last triumph in sore human soul
Shall be Death's last chain broken,

Our hearts made more whole.

The Form Unformed

That which was from the beginning,

The Form unformed,

Stretched out hand and voice,

Forming thus the formless

Into beauty and life.

That which was formed from formlessness

Committed treason against the Form unformed,

Bethinking itself to be eternal Form unformed.

And that which was formed

Was eternally deformed.

That which was made,

Thought the eternal Form unformed,

Ought to be unmade.

But he wished not to suffer

The destruction to un-form that which was once lovely.

That which was from the beginning,

Eternal Form unformed,

For our sake became one formed.

That which was deformed sought to deform him—

Sought in fact to render him formless.

That which from the beginning loved those he formed

Loved also those now deformed.

Giving himself up unto them,

The Form was unformed and re-formed,

Having no deformity in him.

That which was from the beginning,

The Form unformed, formed and re-formed,

So loved us that, while we were yet deformed

He suffered that we might be, with him,

Eternally transformed.

Tomorrow's Song

When the quiet of breath

And heartbeats subside,

Peace will remain and love abide.

All that was ever elusive

In flutter of leaf, symphony's soul

Be at last not in part but in glorious whole.

Sojourner will sing, finally home

Where the dream intersects with darkness and light,

And the fearful will rest in speechless delight.

When pain is forgotten

And rainfall subsides—

Peace will remain and love abide.

Chiaroscuro

     by Kelley Goewey

I was born in darkness and
Blind in spirit since my start.
Light has burned away the scales,
Illumed the shadows in my heart.

Light of Christ and shade of sin:
I am pulled between these two.
Everlasting, by the light,
And by the dark, a death my due.

Ephemeral, eternal, these
My natures war to rule my soul.
Until the light has won, I’m caught
Between the two, chiaroscuro.

the deep longing

Do you ever feel that deep longing?

Does the yearning of your soul ever fill you until you feel it with all that you are, and it is a pulling, expanding ache within you?

Until you are sure that to glimpse something beautiful or become witness to some sorrow or pain might overwhelm you with wordless emotion?

It is hard to put the longing into words...indeed, it almost seems sacrilege to do so.
But I think this is a holy longing.

I think this is the longing that keeps us coming back to God and hoping and praying for redemption and restoration, for all things to be made right.  How long, O Lord?


This longing keeps us alive. Its pain is a form of hope—it reminds us that there is something more, that this world and its pain are not ends in themselves; that God will restore us to Him, restore our relationships with one another, restore the world to peace free from the cataclysm of drought, hurricane, earthquake, famine, war.

The medieval abbess and mystic Hildegard of Bingen wrote of this longing, and her words are an encouragement to me:

Like billowing clouds,
like the incessant gurgle of the brook,
the longing of the soul can never be
stilled. 

It is this longing with which holy
persons seek their work from God. 

Perhaps God also uses this longing to not only keep us seeking Him, but to bring us into participation in bringing about His work of redemption. Whether through proclaiming truth, creating works of beauty, or working to alleviate suffering, perhaps this longing serves as an impetus toward our personal involvement in God's work.  Perhaps that's part of what the Kingdom is all about....

monday morning musings

The chaos: I'm sick.
The cosmos: down time and rest.


One thing (among many) I look forward to about eternity is the fact that we won't have to rush to do anything; won't feel compelled to hurry busily from one place, one thing, to the next.  Granted, I'm not sure we should be so busy all the time in THIS life, but there we won't be limited to our four-score-and-ten, plus or minus a few decades.

Revelation says there will be no sun...still, I wonder sometimes if there will be sunrises and sunsets just the same—or perhaps something better in their place?  Then we would rejoice with each sunrise—even on Monday mornings—filled with joy for yet another day to live in the reign and presence of our King!

Even as I write that I feel a bit like a child dreaming of a fairy-book ever-after, contemplating safety in the King's castle, all well with the world.  No matter.  Perhaps that is only a medieval twist on the truth after all.

The grey sky and wet, green grass and tree-leaves outside might seem dreary, but right now they make me feel cozy to be stuck indoors.

And maybe...maybe I'm not supposed to be sure about sunrises and sunsets on the "new earth" in order that I may appreciate them now, each day, rejoicing that I am witnessing another day beginning and ending, secure within God's love, safe in His grace and power, ransomed for all time into the joyous courts of His magnificent dwelling, priviliged—nay blessed—to know Him truly and delight in Him.  Of course there is hardship, but I am His, and freedom will come....

Thoughts on Eternity and the Struggle Against Time

Perhaps it's a problem for humanity in general; perhaps it's just my culture, but we seem to struggle constantly with time.  More often than not we battle time: it seems there's rarely enough.  I know it's something I personally have difficulties juggling.

Have you ever stopped to think how odd that is?
I began thinking about it a week or two ago, and how perplexing it is that we should struggle so against basically the medium of our existence.

After all, we are born into time and thus come into the world with no prior experience; no knowledge of anything different.  And we grow up and live every day in the context of time, and eventually die in the context of time.  Odd that it should be so difficult.

Of course we know a technical meaning of time.  The planet spins and we have day and night.  It beats tireless circles round the sun and we have years.  But somehow I think time is more than just these natural movements, as though they are only markers for the passage of time, like the reading on a thermometer does not cause the temperature but merely proves it.  In the same way the cycles of day and night, fall and spring, winter and summer give meaning as markers.

And the cycles go on.  In Chicago, each winter we become re-acquainted with cold, and snow falls to grace a dead world.  Each summer the sun beats down, sometimes more gentle than others, and humidity rises and rain falls.  Each autumn turns summer's greens to brown, red and gold.  And of course every spring awakens the earth and brings forth life again—from one decade and generation to the next.
And still we fight the passing of time.

There's a verse in Ecclesiastes which says God "has set eternity in the hearts of men," and I've always considered it to mean solely our longing for something more; that humanity knows something is wrong and yearns for more.  C.S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity of our longing for another world as proof that such exists, his argument being that each human desire has a fulfilment.  Could it be that God literally set a sense of eternity in our hearts so time feels unnatural?

Maybe my imagination is just incapable, but I have a hard time imagining a world without any sort of time.  Perhaps time will still exist, but become mostly irrelevant relative to eternity.  Again, eternity is too large for my wee brain of earth to comprehend, but I have a few ideas of the implications.

But, not to inhibit your imagination, I'll let you consider the concept for yourself.  ;)

When Death Still Stings

As Christians, we have the incredible joy to speak of death with hope.  And while it hurts, we have a peace, too.
I am young, and blessed.  Just about all the experiences with death I can remember have been related to believers, and believers who have been sick for such time that we rejoiced to see their pain ended and their joy and love complete as they are with God.

But what do you do when someone dies who wasn't a Christian?
I'm working day camps with the park district this summer, and this morning at work I was greeted with the terrible news that our camp director died last night.
He wasn't even twenty-three yet.  He was talking about getting married and having kids with the girl he's dated for the past three years, had graduated, and wanted to teach special-needs kids.  Of course, I could be mistaken--after all, who am I to judge another's heart?--but I don't think he knew Christ.
I feel so frustrated when life takes an illogical, ugly turn, clearly revealing the effects of sin's destruction once again; when it just doesn't make sense.

All this hasn't sunk in yet...it's not real.  I ended up leaving work early because of the holiday (too few kids with parents off work), but tomorrow will be here soon, and somehow we'll have to tell the kids without traumatizing them.  I suspect it will be a rough week, and feel more real starting tomorrow morning.

What do you even say, when a non-Christian dies?
How do you comfort someone who was close to them; show compassion without lying?
How do you react when the enemy wins a small victory? Though we know the battle's final outcome, don't the small losses still matter greatly if each life is precious and each human being made in the image of God?

I hate living in a marred, twisted, contaminated world.
What do we do when death wins a victory, and we still feel its sting?