Category Archives: Prayer

Always the bad cop

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Bad Cop
No one wants to grasp the nettle.
No one wants to upset the apple cart.
We fear the tears of those we love
In case it means we’re not liked.
We dance around the subject like
Jesters pretending that all is fine,
When in our hearts we know
What we know, and we know that
What we see isn’t right. And yet,
If we truly loved one another,
And truly sought the best for those
We love then we would know
And live in the truth that
“Faithful are the wounds of a friend”.
But instead we stand by, subtly and
Gently hinting them along the path
Of pain, loss, heartbreak and regret,
Because we want to be the
Good cop and never the bad cop.

I am tired of always being the bad cop.
This kind of loving is too costly.
I lay down my popularity and risk
My friendships because of a deeper love
Which is so safe you can stare into the
Abyss and fear no evil; you can be stung
By the nettles but go beyond to the
Rolling meadows that lie beyond.
I long for more of that love, and for
Stronger passions in those who love me,
So that they would rather break my arm
To save me from a broken heart;
To risk my love by telling me the truth of me
To find that my love for them only grows.

I am tired of being the bad cop, because
It is not I who is the bad cop.

How long?

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How long?
How looong?
Until you act?
Until you step in
Decisively and
Definitively?
Until you turn
This world on
Its head?
Until your kingdom
Comes, and your
Will is done
On earth as it is
In heaven?
Until the swords
Become ploughshares
And spears become
Pruning hooks?
Until the lion eats
The ox’s fodder
And the wolf lies
With the lamb and
No longer seeks to
Dress in its clothing?
Until doing the
Right thing becomes
Currency and outdoing
Each other in generosity
Becomes our profit?
Until root and branch
Of this world are
Made new and
Heaven and earth
Become as one
As YOU tabernacle
With your people
Forever?
How long?
Maranatha,
Our Lord come!

Baptise me

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May the dry clay go under.
May the cracks be filled with water.
May the outer deadness give way
To the inner life which has been reborn,
And is is being reborn;
Renewed, and is being renewed.
Baptise me as that outer sign
To which inwardly my heart says “yes”,
But let that fragile, hope-filled “yes”
Be re-baptised again and again.
May I die with Christ daily
As I take up my cross daily and follow.
May I live the eternal life daily
As the risen Jesus lives in me.
May it be that as my body passes
Through the waters – death to life –
That my mind, my intellect, preconceptions
And prejudices also pass through
The baptismal Red sea; my Jordan river.
Baptise me back then and baptise me
Again Lord, so that the seed of me may
Be planted into the ground in faith-filled
Hope, and may resurrect with you
In fruitful righteousness to a life where
Repentance leads to reconciliation,
Reconciliation leads to witness,
And witness leads to power.

You

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You.
All I am is shaped
In you, with you, for you.
As I lift up my soul
And orient its flow
Upwards to you
I find that the flow
Of my life in you
Is endless, and
The more I lift my
Heart of love and
Worship to you,
The more I discover
There is of me;
The more I know
Who I am, because
Only in you do I
Fully exist.
Only in you do I
Fully know, just
As I am fully known.
Only in you is my heart
Fully loving and loved.
May my life always be
A song joyfully raised
Higher and higher
In worship of
You.

The truth of me

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And when I stopped
The arms-length
Distancing of
Shadows in me
And saw the Light which
Threw them,
Then I knew
The truth of me:-
That even the darkness
Cannot hide You,
Or obscure Your love
Eternal, true.
For unconditionally
You find me
In my dark
Condition
And throw Your
Light to cast shadows
Out
By the truth of You
In the truth of me.

Silent

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Today I have nothing to say.
So I will hold my tongue
And remain silent.
I will not be tempted to
Offer a platitude as empty
As a rattling tin, rusted
From years of neglect.
What can be said that is
Worthy of this moment?
Some moments are simply
Too deep to contain words;
Too heavy for feather-words
That float away on the wind.
Sometimes the obscurity of
Darkness is just the shield we need,
Where definitions diffuse
And answers hide away.
To hang our heads low and weep is
Better bread than much of
What is offered on the table
To feed our hungry souls.
We know we cannot pretend
To really understand, but all
Too often we pretend that we do.
Let there be silence today.
And tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow.
And if in time we find a word, or words
With Enough gravity to hold them down
Then, maybe then, I will break my silence.

(In response to the Sandy Hook massacre on 14 December 2012)

Hard

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My God specialises in ‘hard’.
When He sweated blood knowing
The cup He must drink from;
When He died there in the
Darkness of the 9th hour,
Abandoned and alone;
When He didn’t stay dead
But broke death’s power, forever;
He showed us what ‘hard’ looks like.
He chose ‘hard’ for us
So that when we face our
Own hard times; when we
Feel we can’t carry the load,
Or manage on our own,
We can look to Him who
Specialises in ‘hard’, and know
That nothing is impossible, and
In Him all things are possible,
If we but dare to believe.
So ‘hard’ for us becomes not
That which we cannot change,
Nor carry, nor manage on our own,
But having faith in the One
Who can change anything,
Who can carry our load,
And who will, in the hardest
Moments of your life,
Carry you through it
With arms that cannot fail.

(On the day of Jack’s stroke)

 

Superlativissimus

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You are the
Fundamentalest,
Supremiest,
Beautifuliest,
Perfectiest,
Gloriousest,
Holiestest,
Righteousest,
Graciousest,
Mercifulest,
Loveliestest,
Lovingest,
Fatherest,
Self-sufficientest,
Eternalest,
Consistentest,
Divinest,
One there is.

Oh God,
Give us super-superlatives to draw nearer in praising you,
Or may our dumbstruck silence pay the highestest tribute to You.

Amen