Friday, May 24, 2013


(I wrote this poem this week for a dear friend of mine who is struggling with all things life and love and faith. This is dedicated to her, and to all who helped, and continue to help, me in my own trenches.)

You are in the trenches.

You are in the battlefield, in the thick of the fight.
You have shells falling around you day and night,
kicking up dust and destruction and a kind of death
...until even day looks like night.

Of COURSE you can't see the sun.
Or, when you do see it, it is a withering glare -
exposing the ugliness,
roasting the flesh of the fallen,
blinding you with it's merciless blaze.

It's ugly, and hard
and it HURTS
in a way that is impossible to bear
here in the trenches.

But it's also not a clear picture of the world.

So you can't see the sun through the darkness,
but turn your head to the left or to the right -
can you see one of us?

Because this is the TRUE mission of the church:
to slide down into the trenches with the wounded
...and BE the sun.

Will you allow us to love you like that?
 Is it enough, for now,
when the battle is at its thickest
to feel fingers curl around yours in this darkness
and rub your hands until a spark forms?

You are in the trenches.

God loves you completely,
right where you are,
in just the way you are wanting to be loved.

But since you can't see that right now,
see us.
We want only good things for you.

We love you.
We love you, right here
in the trenches.
May 22, 2013