(if you are viewing this via email, the website has a recording of this poem and commentary; click the title above)
Commentary
Hopefully, this poem doesn’t need much explanation.
Sons of a Poet
Tag Archives: parenting
One Can Only Pray
(if you are viewing this via email, the website has a recording of this poem and commentary; click the title above)
Commentary
I cannot comment too much on this poem, except to say that it expresses a curious, abiding concern for someone I observe but don’t really know. I have no basis to intervene, but I’m free to pray. God knows what to do.
#prayer #vulnerable #godfather
Simon Iscariot’s Grief
Commentary
These days, whenever there’s a mass shooting, one of the more poignant things afterwards is hearing what the shooter’s parents or siblings have to say. Imagine being Judas Iscariot’s father. John gives us his name. It was Simon Iscariot. Why do we know that name? Did Simon end up following Jesus? I hope so!
Here’s the passage that prompted my flight of imagination (the poem), with a little of its context:
Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.” Jesus answered them, “Did I not choose you, the twelve? And yet one of you is a devil.” He spoke of Judas the son of Simon Iscariot, for he, one of the twelve, was going to betray him.
John 6:68-71 ESV
A friend of mine wrote this:
In Mark 3, when Jesus chooses the 12, it casually mentions that Judas would betray him. I always thought that was just a throw-in, some foreboding music to alert us about coming plot twists. But then it hit me: What if Jesus chose Judas BECAUSE he was going to betray Him? And what if he put Judas in charge of the money bag in order to keep him around, since he planned to use him as an important part of orchestrating His own death?
Bruce Beaty
“We’re on the same page,” I said, “Jesus was orchestrating events, not just responding to them. It’s amazing.”
Smiling Forever
Commentary
I wrote this for someone who worries that eternity would get old. Exploring isn’t the only source of lasting joy. Getting to know is good. So is having come to know.
(background image by “Pexels” on Pixabay)
Kitten Loves Shoelaces
Back in late May, Joshua rescued a kitten that he found on Ferguson Road. Here’s what I wrote a day or two after:
Jonathan promptly renamed him Furrgie. I’m going with Furrguson. So far, he understands that friends check you for fleas, and that purring melts hearts.
As the days and weeks passed, Furrguson seemed to forget all about his “early life.” He got his first kitten vaccination. All the fleas are gone, and he is fattening up. Now he pounces on anything and everything, often terrorizing the older cats despite their hissing and powerful bat-downs. But when he has expended all his kitten energy, he does still like to curl up as close to our faces as possible. He purrs his little heart out, and occasionally reaches up to gently touch our lips or noses with his velveted paws.
Loved From The Beginning
Commentary
You should probably never ask me to TALK about this little poem… too emotional! The background photo is of my mother when she was a little girl. The photo was taken in the early 1930s. Mom was taken in 2006. It occasionally becomes obvious that I’m not through grieving.
The setting when I thought of the words really was waking up from an afternoon nap. As is often the case, I was wearing ear buds, and had been drowning out the noises in the house by listening to one of my favorite Pandora stations. As I awoke, I was keenly aware of how beautiful the music was… something from Pat Metheny.
I listened to another piece, and then another. Each was as beautiful as the last.
My mind went back through the years to the experience of taking naps as a child, to the awareness of family in other rooms, their voices becoming distant and indistinct as I fell asleep. I cannot actually remember anything before that. However…
Traveling back in time, I arrived at the conviction that my exquisite experience of beauty — here in music — has always been rooted in the love of my mother. She herself was beautiful. She loved me, and she loved beauty. But she also pointed me farther back, to the Author of beauty.
Farther Back
Time did not begin with my birth. When a Christian like myself refers to “love from the beginning,” he or she inevitably alludes to our belief that God has loved his children and had kind purposes for them “from the beginning.” When the Apostle Paul writes about this, he gets into one of the long run-on sentences (in the Greek) that signal his excitement:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
Ephesians 1:3-10 (ESV)
I’m convinced that knowing the Creator, and being confident that He loves me, enables me to better appreciate the beauty of His creation.
Young Friends
Listen:
Commentary
I won’t embarrass the young people I wrote this for by telling you their names. Suffice it to say that it is a young man and his girlfriend. They got to know each other at a time when both were dealing with anxiety. Their kindness to one another was soothing, leading in time to genuine love (affection coupled with determined efforts to seek the good of the loved one). Buoyed by countless long conversations, they have each grown stronger, assured of the love and support that overcomes anxiety.
But life continues to be hard. Pressures abound. Schoolwork is taxing. Other responsibilities pile on with each year of young life. What this poem advocates is that my young friends face those pressures, spend the time and mental/emotional energy that is demanded of them now without resorting to the comfort they have come to know in each other’s presence (physical and virtual, thanks to the Internet). In devoting time to their duties, they are not denying the affection they have for one another, but investing in themselves, investing in the valuable person they are, the valuable person loved by the other.
In a storm, darkness and curtains of rain may limit how far we see, but hearing our friend calling out encouragement is a powerful aid. I like to imagine some code phrase like, “Together through the storm!” Literally. I like to imagine a literal phrase that conveys love in other “mere” words… think of “As you wish” in The Princess Bride. With encouragement like that, the storm loses it’s power. It may separate for a time, but it cannot ultimately separate those whose love for one another was forged by its menace, those who learned there is something more powerful than a storm.
The Sycamore Ball
When we moved to the States in 1970, I asked my folks to look for a house with good climbing trees. The one they found was surrounded by tall sycamores. I’d spend many hours surveying the countryside from my perch high in their strong branches. Now, as a parent of two teens, I marvel how my parents let me climb so high.
