‘temple thoughts’ poem 4 in a series

your body is a loved,
dearly loved, temple by you

wash my feet Lord, gently touch my toes, my cracked, ageing soles

my empty spaces, my hurting nails
my temple

and yours. Yours.

Light

Jesus is light. All lights point to him. I sit awaiting light.
Today, as dawn begins in MYC, New York City, I look for light. Houses here are lit up for the season; in general, houses, their outsides, are not lit, decorated in London, our town. Villages are, streets are, stores are. But not houses.

In both cities people design lights. They need light; they look for it. Aragon , in ‘The Two Towers’ looked toward, for light after the night’s battle; after being let down my people, I look for healing, for light. Yesterday, I searched for light in the light of Vermeer’s ‘Girl with Pearl Earring’ exhibit at the Frick; I walked Van Cortland in the Bronx searching houses and sky; I asked for light. Families may give some light this season, this time of year, but as a blazing torch or comet, their lights soon leave. All human designed lights, all these lights will leave.

But he? He was always there; He is.
It is ‘his star’ I need to follow.
Micah 7:8b states that ‘Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light’

Jesus, your light, the world’s light, my light-stays
My Light stays, with me

Envelope me; then, then

I will rise in His light.

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drafts2

drafts2 is about how I am composing, designing my writing and my readings. This blog is about and is my process. Evan Williams, one of Twitter’s co-founders has begun ‘Medium’ a blogging platform, where ‘collaboration’ is among writers ‘by letting them share posts privately before publication, in pursuit of suggestions or edits.’ I want to share drafts of my work publically and welcome all comments. Same idea basically; but different in process.

And so I begin with a hard piece to share. ‘Joey . 11. 11. 13’ was published on the Stewardship blog on http://www.stewardship.org.uk/smartweb/blog/blog/post/221 Rememberance day in the UK. Emotional to write, Daniel Jones at Stewardship helped me edit the version you see here below and at the Stewardship link. Beneath it is the original piece he edited. Different title, ‘prayerful remembrances.’Daniel did a sensitive job, a thought filled collobration, a close reading of writing.
Please comment on both pieces and how they read as a unit and as individual works. Don’t worry about what you say or think. It is only a draft, and therefore only the greatest import, that of words as action.

Joey. 11.11.13

My son passed away on a military base in 1996. He was 22.

It was a car accident, early in the morning at 5am, just as he was called up for formation.

We got the call early. He probably was rushing; driving too fast. He always drove too fast. It was Mother’s Day weekend; a beautiful spring day.

In the United States, when a member of the military passes away, two serving officers are dispatched to tell the soldier’s family the news in person – that same day. We had already had the phone call. But I said that already, didn’t I?

They come to your home to tell you; to stand with you in your shock, and then your grief.

They arrive in full uniform, official looking, straight and to the point, viewers into your eyes. Sorry for your loss is their opening words. The rest blurs.

They stand stiff, straight like wooden boards in their well pressed uniforms. They come because they want you to know: we remember you at this time.

Seventeen years have passed and I still get teary about that visit.

These two officers did not know Joey (though we would meet his soldier friends later). They were sent as symbols, remembrances being mindful of us, our now broken family, remembering us.

And what is etched most in my memory about their visit?

It was, and still is, their presence. They didn’t have to say anything.

They were there.

Fully present.

There.

I needed those two service people that day. Their youth reminded me of what was lost. Their commitment and purpose reminds me of why Joey was serving. Remembrances.

My tears, our sorrows, were not missed or forgotten.

Remember.

Today and in the days to come, stand with our soldiers, someone’s son and daughter. Stand with their families, those who still have and those who have lost.

Pray for them. Speak to God for them. He hears your prayers, and somehow our prayers work with His will. Don’t ask how; I don’t know. I do know He remembers. He doesn’t forget a one. He remembered us that day.

Remember with Him in prayer.

Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works together with those who love him to bring about what is good who have been called according to his purpose.

prayerful remembrances, 11 November 2013My son passed away on a military base in 1996. He was 22. It was a motorised accident that occurred at 5am when he was called up for formation. We got the call early. He probably was rushing; driving too fast. He always drove too fast. It was Mother’s Day weekend. A beautiful spring day.
In the States, when a member of the military passes away, they send two service officers in military uniforms to tell the family the news in person. They come the same day you get the news. We already had the phone call. But I said that already, didn’t I?

They come to your home to tell you, to stand with you. They stand stiff and straight as wooden broads in their well pressed uniforms. They come because they want you to know: we remember you at this time. Seventeen years passed and I still get teary about their visit. They did not know Joey. We would meet his fellow soldiers later. They were sent as symbols, remembrances being mindful of me, remembering me. My tears, our sorrows, were not missed or forgotten.

They are in full uniform; official; to the point; straight on; viewers into your eyes: Sorry for your lost is their opening words. The rest blurs.

What do I recall? It was and is their presences, their physical beings I remembered. They didn’t have to say anything; they were there. Fully present; there.

I needed those two service people that day. Their youth reminded me of what was lost. Their commitment and purpose reminds me of why Joey was serving. Remembrances.

Stand with our soldiers, someone’s son and daughter, today and the coming days. How should you speak to, for them? Pray for them. Speak to God for them. The first thing, everyday from now till Remembrance Sunday 9 November 2014. Then do it again till Remembrance Sunday 8 November 2015. God hears prayers, and somehow our prayers works with His will. Don’t ask how; I don’t know. I do know He remembers. He doesn’t forget a one. Remember with Him in prayer.

Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works together with those who love him to bring about what is good who have been called according to his purpose.

http://www.britishlegion.org.uk/get-involved/how-to-give/?gclid=CNOZ_5b01LoCFafMtAodS1AAkA