A Seed's Prayer

Many seeds were sown,
     watered,
          germinated,
Grew in to beautiful plants and bushes and flowers,
     fertilized,
          dropped new seeds.
New plants and bushes and flowers sprang forth,
     growing,
          reaching to the sun.
I'm still in the ground,
     waiting;
Waiting to germinate,
     to grow,
          to be picked,
               chosen.
Every year
     more dirt thrown on top of me;
          deeper in to the ground I sink.
Overlooked?
     Not noticed?
          Forgotten?
It's cold and dark.
     Am I slow to germinate,
          or am I dead?
Just be over with it already,
     and bury me
          six feet under.
   

Nature Abhors a Vacuum

Its not an imbalance
That a chemical can counter.
Its not a weight
A drug can lift up.

Its pain.  Real pain.
A hole in my heart
With raw tissue exposed,
Stinging as if alcohol is being poured over me.

A deep inhale of ice cold air
On a subzero day burns my lungs.
Breathing hurts! But its necessary;
So I suffer the searing pain.

A cavity inside me
With nerves exposed.
Air being blown inside
Jolts of agony travel my body.

Nature abhors a vacuum
And so do I.
Jacob wrestled You; Hannab begged.
And so do I.

Please, answer me
As you answered them.

Swinging on a Pedulum

Too much and not enough
I swing on the pendulum of life.

Too much and not enough
Love, intelligence, experience

Too much and not enough
Too tall, too short.  Too young, too old.

Too much and not enough
Not smart enough, nice enough, patient enough

Too much and not enough
Back and forth I swing

Too much and not enough
I struggle through each day

Too much and not enough
These words repeat through my brain

Too much and not enough
I long for someone to still the dizzying sway

Too much and not enough
Will someone ever tell me "just right"?

The Checkout Line

I stand expectantly

In the checkout line

Waiting for my turn to come;

Biding my time. 

Many others have gone ahead of me

They waited for their turns.

I understand their places in front

They previously had earned. 

But some have come from behind

And pushed me aside.

The jumped the line ahead of me

My good manners they did deride. 

I wonder should I join them,

Taking others’ places?

Ignoring their positions?

Ignoring their pained, hurt faces? 

I still hold my place

Respecting others’ stations.

I accept my circumstance

But I’ve become impatient. 

 

My legs are weak, my feat are numb

My spot in line has not moved.

I've worked so hard, I've waited long

But my place has not improved.

I worry that when I get to the front,

Where the shelves were once so plenty

My turn will come and I will find

The shelves are all now empty.

Waiting for Christmas

Remember as a child, waiting for Christmas to come?  We were distracted and occupied by the excitement of Halloween, then the preparations for Thanksgiving.  But after the turkey was eaten and the leftovers wrapped and packed away, Christmas and all it's trappings were dead in our sights!

The days on the calendar were checked off.  As each block was counted down, the pile of gifts stacked  up proportionally.  Every day one more house on the block was bedecked in lights and garland.

The wait was excruciating.  Curiosity was painful; the anticipation was like an electric current running throughout our bodies, making us tense and excited.  Trying to complete schoolwork was next to impossible, distracted by the thoughts of what was in all those decorated boxes.  The closer Christmas came the worse it got with the anxiety and "what-ifs" and "what-if-nots" stampeding through our emotions.

I've been waiting for "Christmas" to come for a long time.  Earlier in my life, I was distracted by work and activities that kept my mind, body and emotions busy.  But they no longer work.  I'll be 52 in a few months, all the major "holidays" behind me.  The only one looming is "Christmas".  Only this "Christmas" doesn't have a specific date on the calendar on which I can pinpoint being able to open my gift.  There's no way to countdown.  Every day is painful, as I look for signs that "Christmas" is coming.  I don't know if it ever will come for me.

My pain is compounded by the fact most all of my friends have already had their celebrations.  Now their children are enjoying their holidays, as the parents look on sharing in their joy and remembering their  own "Christmas".  I'm still anxiously waiting, wondering if there is a gift for me or am I not supposed to ever celebrate my own "Christmas".  I've had a gift waiting for someone, wrapped and ready; but no one seems to want it.

Every moment I'm on edge - curious, wondering if and when...and why.  At this age, after so long a wait, it's mostly "why?".  My prayers usually consist of two words - my heart not able to voice anything else but "Why?" and "Please!"  I repeat them over and over again, almost like a mantra.  Only this mantra does not bring comfort or peace.

Is this how Jesus feels - the gift He has to offer so many don't notice or outright reject?  Is this what it means to share in His suffering?

To climb out of this vat of self-pity I need to remind myself of the first Christmas 2000 years ago, when the King of Kings lowered himself and volunteered for a messy human birth followed by a messy human life, ending with a humiliating death reserved for criminals, not innocent Kings.  I need to remind myself that though I do not know the date or time or even if "Christmas" will come, the King of Kings knows the plan He has for me.  His plan ends with a great celebration that surpasses any Christmas that we can plan on earth. 

I wait with electric anticipation.