Mirror

I am a mirror.

It boils down to this:

all the significance

I’ve longed for

is held within the simple truth

that I am a reflector.

I turn to God,

facing him in all his majesty,

to let him beam into my soul

and radiate from there

to light the world.

I must stay tuned,

sensitive to each adjustment

of my angle, knowing that

the Spirit is at work in…

Yesterday was one of those landmark birthdays, when you face again the reality of numbering your years. This time my meditations were definitely influenced by recent deaths in the families of people I care about, from young to old (7 months,  4 years, 22 years, 37 years, 94 years). And yet I am stunned at the grace that covers this privilege of being alive. Once again, I listen to my heart via my pen.

On a Thread (7-14-2012)

It’s a quick walk on a fine…

Lately our translation team has been locked in what Abdoulaye (NT translator) has dubbed "ant work." We spend days, weeks, months, going over translated texts -- copyediting, reviewing, revising, proofreading -- to get to goal. It's easy to get lost in the details. A friend brought up the truth that some people are antlike,…

It's been a series of months of intense work, of deep joys, of difficult tangles. Yes, the stress count was pretty high. So Glenn and I have taken a few days of rest in Abidjan, eight hours by road from home in Ferke. We stay with missionary friends who share their home with us, a courtyard in a suburb where few people know us. And this time we even took three days at the beach. We will soon be celebrating our 39th anniversary and both of our birthdays; this was our party.

I often…

Ahhhh . . . Africa!

salt waves pummeling your beaches

high winds whipping up the sand

rainstorms thundering on tin roofs

sunbeams bouncing off flat land

bulbuls signalling the sunrise

lean dogs howling to the moon

bat calls beeping in the darkness

cattle moaning at high noon

hand plows scooping out a corn field

pestels pounding grain to flour

axes felling scrub and forests

hammers…

An American friend asked me what would have been the most foreign aspect of our Christmas celebration this year. I was hard pressed to answer: the all-night Christmas Eve service? the all-night dancing? the miracles shared in the testimonies? eating on the benches and the floor? freezing in 57 degree weather? the way baptisms are applauded through singing and dance? the plastic mug we all share for communion? the “poyoyo” celebration dance of all that God has done for us this…

I have just opened up my book,

turned the first pages, relaxed,

when the “ko ko” sounds behind me

and there is yet another

person at the door for me.

This one, fatherless, wants funds

to go to school, to buy his books,

and prayer to help him through.

I turn to find distraction in the kitchen.

This is my day of rest, sabbat,

my Saturday when patterns change

and life can take a different…

I grew up strong

in the wild grass

grander stouter

prouder than any tree

in my domain

reached my…

bird on the branch,

still, alert,

quick response

to any noise,

to any move,

neck tensed

to whirl and

see what’s there,

ready to leap,

red eyes probing

my heart is poised

on its own perch,

ready to fly

or lift a prayer,

to see the truth

hidden in shade,

ears wide open

to hear the Voice

and trust the Breath,

ready to wait

 …

I admit that I no longer enjoy fireworks, or even firecrackers. A tire explodes at a mechanic’s shop in our neighborhood, and I startle. These harmless sounds are now tied to the blast of a mortar shell flying overhead, to danger.

We are hearing some fireworks from time to time (holiday fireworks), but so far, the gunshots are in the southern part of the country.

Eight years ago, in September, we went through eight days of “siege” – really, of hiding out,…

I’m only dust