this morning, I reached into the dishwasher
grasped the smooth handle of my favourite mug
clay from the hands of the Mistress
formed into a vessel that holds memories
sadness, pours into me,
hotter than the waiting coffee
Lord, I miss Her!
alma mater
mine, hers and Hers
this – Her gift to me – to celebrate the journey
the end and the beginning
alpha and omega
living
striving, thriving, surviving
my graduation, penultimate to theirs
a year passes and we gather again
to encourage, reorientate, reclaim the promise
of what and who we are called to be
another year
dead
Less that two years Your priest, Lord?
mute incredulity
really?
You heal the cancer – remission
in thanksgiving and wonder She hears You
says yes
dayenu*
was it?
tears stream as voices slosh here to there and back again over cellular waves
we did not know, we were not told
of deadly returned, cellular multiplication
liver hosts, breasts long sacrificed to hope
we did not know, unaware
we wallow in guilt
the third rants
“I know you have a good reason, God!”
begging, threatening, “tell me what it is!”
yes
dark coffee spills and fills a vessel still holding the past
leaves fall beyond the kitchen window fast
turns a season
thanksgiving approaches
thanksgiving
for Her life
yes
for death
no reason
yet
I suspect it was missed
in a moment noisy
the still, small voice
“Spring comes, She is fully alive in Me.”
Romans 8:38-39 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Isaiah 64:8
But now, O LORD, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.
*it would have been enough for us