And Jesus wept

It came to me yesterday, during my workaday,
"Be still and know that I am God".

We are not still enough in our spirits
we are twisted mangled heaps of wreckage
trying to fit ourselves back together
without the proper wrenches and screwdrivers too.

The right tool for the job.
The getting the job done without scrobbing a knuckle
or mashing a thumb
or amputating some limb, one which we'd rather not do without.

The struggle should be together
not wallowing alone.
The struggle should be within the shelter
of at least one inviting pair of arms.

We all need hugs.

And I'll take my word hugs where I can get them.

It is not such an easy thing
depending on the strong arm of God.
Knowing without doubt that his
will be done.

As humans we are always questioning
wrangling with our thoughts and feelings
and doubting the wisdom of our outcomes.

I want everyone to live in the peace of their spirit
settled in comfort within their own skin.

Resting in the knowledge
that something greater than our own simple being
is at the helm
if we would but allow it charge and face forward direction.

Too often it is the stumble in the dark.
The lurching forward and the falling in.


"Be still and know that I am God."
Such a simple thing
but within the heart and mind and spirit
oh the wretched creeping in
of our own plan.  The pencil line drawing
so often erased and begun again.

The aerial view
would be handy to see.
The aerial view of paths taken
the slug line or centipedal path
we all so stubbornly take.  The lone stroll
venturing further and further in
as the forest closes around.
Drunken staggerings that lead
to the eventual time spent on the knees
weeping.

A poem like this
or thoughts like these
could wend their way interminably
except we all eventually
simply
run out of page.

Weep for me
oh human race
and God who always always sees.

And Jesus wept.