How’s the View?

“Hi, Rich! It’s good to see you!”

To which my friend replied, “I’d rather be seen than viewed…”

I instinctively recognize a Danism when I hear one, so I adopted this clever reference to the local funeral parlor as my own.

Which reminds me of something I heard another friend say when he was asked what he would like for people to say about him at his funeral. His answer: “LOOK! He’s moving!”

Family Pride

Woman in MirrorWe are family,

We are brethren,

Kindred in a fallen race.

Fallen from God’s gracious blessing,

Everywhere but on our face.

Proud of all our vain achievements,

Prouder of things we’ve yet to do.

Choosing to ignore our weakness,

We’d have our cake, and eat it, too.

 

Wretched people proud and broken,

Who will save us from this death?

Praise to Jesus, eternal Savior,

Who gives the corpse eternal breath.

Silence

Your word is truth, 

Your word is light,

Your word is Spirit,

Your word is life.

Silence is a womb into which Father implants life.

He is ever fruitful.

Erosion

hope-1

 

 

 

 

 

There comes  a certain age.
Life has eroded away,
like a trodden path.
And there, revealed in the way, is a stone.

It is hope.

You did not know it was there,
Yet there it is.
You had hoped for something and did not know it.

And then, as life erodes away,
you realize the hope is broken.
It is unfulfilled.

And all this —

the erosion,

the hope,

the disappointment.

This all happens at the same time.

Hope Dies Last

Hope Dies Last

 

 

 

 

 

Hope is a seed laid in the ground,

A prayer for the lost until he’s found.

A yearning heart that waits at home,

A distant voice heard on the phone.

A melody in the dark of night,

A pale blue pledge of morning light.

A wisp of smoke before the flame,

A cloud that promises coming rain.

 

Dreams may fade,

And plans not last,

Hearts may grow weary,

But hope dies last.

 

(From The Butterfly and the Stone

 

Pleasantview

PleasantviewSo many have also lived.
I ponder here at my Father’s burial place.
It is a strange thing but I think he would be proud of me. If he could see me, I think he would be proud.That was always important to me. 

I wonder sometimes if I see him more than he was.
I don’t think so.
I saw him when he stood among the giants.
I also saw him as a mere man.
I only prefer to dwell on his pride, not his failures.

He sometimes had vision without drive.
He was sometimes paralyzed by a sense of inadequacy and hopelessness.
But he was a good man—good to me; good for me.
By grace I can step over the faults that are part of his legacy.
Step over and build on what remains.

Moments

hug-1

There are moments.

Gently,  I think of you and smile.

Let us rest in one another’s arms

Not hurry from the warmth.

 Wrap our memories together

Live them each again

Rediscover what we have found

Be grateful for love.

Simply.

Bright Flower

Bright FlowerThe garden is in ruins.

Winter’s burden,
Icy curtain draped on frail limbs,
Fragile twigs like human hearts,
That snapped
Too weak to bear the load.

Sin’s dark weight.

Nurtured dreams
Wreckage upon the brow of earth,
Hopes strewn carelessly.
Brokenness scattered on the ground.

In such a garden the Father once walked.

Clear the fallen boughs,
Pile high monuments to winter’s vain fury.
For spring promises one bright flower.