Tuesday, January 4, 2011

earl grey tea awaking my soul, (and weary eyes)
bon iver dancing in my eardrums,
a blanket in my lap,
the sun waving gently at the window,
filling my soul with peace.

and all these words,
treading their feet in my mind,
leaving circles upon circles upon circles.

"There is a kind of high comedy about our faith. There is a kind of high comedy about seeing and not seeing, about waiting, about being human and not quite human. We wait for him to come- more than we know, each of us waits for our heart's desire- and he comes only in metaphors, in shadowy glimpses through the tall and bleeding trees; in long silences through which some words should be spoken and are spoken but never quite audibly enough for us to be sure we've heard them right: 'The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ which was shed for thee preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.'

Body and soul, we wait for new life to make us everlastingly alive, new blood to flow through our dusty sorrowing world, soft as rainwater and almost without taste but with the faintest tinge of sweetness to it. He was a fine man, our Lord and General. He was everything a man should be. He was everything we all should be and from the deepest part of ourselves yearn to be- loving, brave just---but are not yet, not by a long shot.

You hardly know whether to laugh or to weep. Well, laugh then, since you have to choose one or the other. Laugh like the wrinkled old man in the dream with the knowledge that there may yet be hope not just beyond the dust of our world but within the dust. His very absence here in the dust speaks of his presence. Our very brokenness here speaks of wholeness and holiness. The emptiness we carry around inside us through the dust whispers like a seashell of the great sea that it belongs to and that belongs to it. 'I have said this to you in figures,' Jesus says, but 'the hour is coming when I shall no longer speak to you in figures but tell you plainly of the Father.' This is his promise, and watering the earth with the tears of our joy, we make it our laughter and our prayer." 
Frederick Buechner 
in A Room Called Remember
from his piece"A Little While"

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is thy faithfulness.

It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
It is good for a man that he bear
the yoke in his youth.

Let him sit alone in silence
when he has laid it on him'
let him put his mouth in the dust-
there may yet be hope." 

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