The Valley of Vision

A Puritain prayer I was able to hear on Ash Wednesday that in too many ways is the prayer of my life.

Lord, High and Holy, Meek and Lowly,
You have brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see you in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold your glory.

Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter your stars shine;

Let me find your light in my darkness,
your life in my death,
your joy in my sorrow,
your grace in my sin,
your riches in my poverty,
your glory in my valley.
Amen

Blessed

As I have taken hold of the verse:

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.”
~Matthew 5:6~

I am so blessed in that, for even in my inadequacy I hear the Lord repeating over and over again this day “I am with you. I am with you. I am with you.” And it rings on like a resounding gong that I may never forget the meaning of grace this day or ever again.

The Ragamuffin Gospel

A Word Before by Brennan Manning
It is not for the super-spiritual.
It is not for muscular Christians who have made John Wayne, and not Jesus, their hero.
It is not for academics who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis.
It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion.
It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion.
It is not for Alleluia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation.
It is not for the fearless and tearless.
It is not for red-hot zealots who boast with the rich young ruler of the Gospels, “All these commandments I have kept from my youth.”
It is not for the complacent who hoist over their shoulders a tote bag of honor, diplomas, and good works, actually believing they have it made.
It is not for legalists who would rather surrender control of their souls to rules than run the risk of living in union with Jesus.
If anyone is still reading along, it is for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out.
It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other.
It is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don’t have it all together and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace.
It is for inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker.
It is for poor, weak, sinful men and women with hereditary faults and limited talents.
It is for earthen vessels who shuffle along on feet of clay.
It is for the bent and the bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God.
It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who admit they are scalawags.
It is for myself and anyone who has grown weary and discouraged along the Way.

On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick. Go and learn the meaning of the words: Mercy is what pleases me, not sacrifice. And indeed I came to call not the upright, but sinners.” (Matthew 9:12-13)

When Will Black Be Beautiful

a poem inspired by a white man
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When will black be beautiful
When will strong thick thighs
Noses broad and wide
Be exemplified
Like the pale skin models
Under runway lights

When will nappy hair be in style
So I wouldn’t have to pay sixty dollars
To feel lovely sometimes
When will these deep brown eyes
Be the object of not just my own kind

Cause in a world where everyone says gray’s alright
We’re all still very black and white
When what we say just doesn’t “feel right”

And while the little girl in me
Still wishes her eyes were blue with a tint of green
That her hair was light and long like Sleeping Beauty
Cause that’s the only beauty she’s ever seen
I’m waiting for the remedy

For someone to say
To the little black girl with braids
Cause that’s all those naps could do some days
You’re beautiful too in every way