Archive for September, 2015

Listening, wordless, spent

Sweetened by comments

And irony

As though presence itself

Is frayed

Non-existent and shivering inside

Waiting for a rendering

Slender in the crowd

Sweetened cries

Aloft, aloud

Silence ensues

Harsh upon the banks

Given that time

And absence of it

Like forgotten, misplaced characters

Stay cold


With edges of shattered memories


Poem a Day #42, September 28, 2015


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Heavens Declare


By tabulated stars

That swell and quell

And fail to tell


Who you are


As if alone

In brightness fade

Where hope was laid


Death’s rolled stone


Vast, alight

Eternal and sweet

With wonder replete


To the sight


Effervescent, young

Forever weaved

With death perceived


Across stars strung


In silence ring

Given through sorrow

Speaks of tomorrow


The promised King

Poem a Day #41, September 27, 2015

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How many know

But do not know

The love that He would give

What He means by forgive

Who died that we might live


How many see

But do not see

The one who formed the sky

Draws from heaven ever nigh

To the lowest, sorrowed cry


How many hear

But do not hear

Words of life from the Voice

Who bids the only choice

That would make the heart rejoice


How many know

But do not know

The life, the truth, the way

Who redeems our yesterdays

By the scandal of sweet grace


Poem a Day #27, September 13


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never forget

Scrolling through Facebook for a few minutes this morning, about half the posts centered on the events of September 11, 2001. Many of them had the phrase “never forget.” Many shared their own experiences and memories of that day.

Mine was a little different.

I was living in New Delhi, India, in a relationship with someone I loved, and who loved me, but I did not know how the relationship would turn out eventually. And I was afraid. The day before, on September 10th, I remember being stuck in horrendous Delhi traffic, and praying while parked between hordes of cars that never quite stuck to their lanes. I remember praying, and thinking that something had to happen, or I would probably end up leaving India.

And something did happen. The next evening.

This someone asked me to marry him. Unexpected? Oh yes.

About five minutes later, his friend phoned and asked him to turn on the television and look at what was happening. (India is 10-12 hours ahead of the United States.) That evening, we watched the live footage of the towers as they fell.

I went to sleep that night with mixed feelings, a thousand emotions I couldn’t put into words, even if I tried. But I did say yes.

Two years passed. On September 12, 2003, we got married.

Tomorrow, my husband and I will celebrate our 12th wedding anniversary. The anniversary of a love that has deepened and sweetened every year, by God’s grace, in spite of mistakes and moments of sorrow and grief. The anniversary of a love that I know will go on forever.

“Never forget.” I see it every year on September 11. Sometimes I wonder if some who circulate the phrase remember what exactly it is they claim we should not forget. Perhaps the exact intention of “never forget” is different for each person, as varied as the people who state it or type it or post it.

I know what “never forget” means for me, perhaps because of the dual association of September 11 in my life.

“Never forget” calls to my mind the awesome power of love. Love, so often misconstrued as fleeting emotions or waves of passion. But love is so much more. A quote I read yesterday by Frederick Buechner said this of love:

Of all powers, love is the most powerful and the most powerless. It is the most powerful because it alone can conquer that final and most impregnable stronghold which is the human heart. It is the most powerless because it can do nothing except by consent.

To say that love is God is romantic idealism. To say that God is love is either the last straw or the ultimate truth.

Love is not primarily an emotion but an act of the will.

As seasons pass … seasons of my life no less than the seasons outside my windows … I find more and more the vital connection between love and forgiveness. How, in its deepest and most real sense, true love might possibly be closer to forgiveness than to anything else.

In any relationship, not just between husband and wife, but father and son, mother and daughter, friend and friend. Love and forgiveness embrace in a unique dance through life, and they can never be separated.

Today, when I am bid to “never forget,” I can’t help but recall the greatest words of forgiveness, and the greatest act of love. The still point of creation’s dance, when Heaven wept and a pain-wracked voice called from a cross, “Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.”

Never forget. The almost terrifying power of love in its chosen weakness … and its undying strength. The true freedom of forgiveness that brings life anew.

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Hope’s Sweet Song

Try as I might


Day by day

Remains the fight



I am bequest

By hope’s sweet song


Poem a Day #24, September 10, 2015

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Bathed in Grace

What I do

Who I am

Aren’t they one

And the same?

Or am I defined

My essence

As something more

Not what I do

Or have done

Or even

What I will do

But somehow

Beyond the place of knowing

Who I am

Is bathed in Grace

And perfect love


Poem a Day #23, September 9, 2015

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Recalled Cost

Cliches alive

Like grace revived

A trace

To thrive

With thee


Listen soft

In shame aloft

No blame

No cost

For me


Ever fall

Forgotten hall

A cost


Now free


Poem a Day #22, September 8, 2015

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