The storm rages

After I Peter 1:3-5 

The storm rages around us,

a tempest, pounding

turbulence, threatening

destruction. It rages,

but we are safe, secure,

protected with a promise,

with an inheritance,

one that is permanent,

perfect, held in reserve,

a hope amid the storm,

a hope in spite of the storm,

a living hope, a refuge,

a rock, and we are

in its cleft, our safety

and salvation secure.

 

Photograph by Mac LaRochelle via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

The Value of Work & Picking Blueberries – Russell Gehrlein at the Institute for Faith, Work, & Economics.

 

The News Media is Broken. What Now? – Mike Woodruff at The Gospel Coalition.

 

Narnia Remains – Samuel D. James at Digital Liturgies.

Christ the King - sonnet by Malcolm Guite.

A rock is a hard place

After Psalm 61

Running across burning sands,

pursued by darkness, I see

the rock looming ahead,

stark and jagged as it thrusts

upward, casting its column

of shade to defy the burning 

sun. a rock in the desert,

a tower. The rock is cold

in the heat; the rock is hard

in the soft sand,

A rock is a hard place,

when a hard place is 

the need, a hard place

of refuge, or protection,

a hard place to provide

safety, a rescue from peril,

the peril of enemies,

the peril of self.

Photograph by Pablo Garcia Saldana via Unsplash. Used with permission.

I lifted a rock

I lifted a rock

to see what lay

beneath, hidden

from the light

and air, to see

what crawled

or burrowed there

or what seeped

from the sides

what lay beneath:

a mirror, what Alice

fell through

Photograph by Maliz Ong via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

Sit on a rock

Sit on a rock

and stare

across the water

and the road

to the bluff,

limestone

and rock soaring

to the sky

blue and hard.

Consider the effort

required

to carve and layer
these mounds of rock.

Wonder if God’s hands

got dusty.

The rock, the stone, the pebble

He searched for the rock, everywhere,

the stabilizer, the foundation, the assured

platform on which to stand and not shake

or shift or waver.

He looked everywhere for the stone,

the talisman he could palm or pocket

or hold to umbrella the rain

and melt the snow.

He looked everywhere for the pebble,

the rounded hardness hidden in the sole

of a shoe or the creviced floor, the pebble

to protect, first, and then empower,

second.

He found them all and he found more

of them, rocks, stones, pebbles

of varying sizes and colors, and they

worked as expected and they didn’t

work as expected because he had looked

in all the wrong places.

Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.