Friday, November 24, 2017

Friday, November 24, 2017

Revelation 21:6

Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. 

Thanksgiving redux

More than the past, the future most moves me, hopes unrealized, joys yet to be, a me I know is there but is not yet despite 65 years.

I walk among the trees, drawn to water, a stream, as if to drink with the creatures who shyly emerge from the brush. This day the stream is high, the current swift. Rocks in its course divide it into three cold, silver currents that merge into one a few yards downstream.

The sun repeats itself in the silver flow as the stream continues south among the trees, disappearing from sight while the creatures and I refresh ourselves with living water.

Why is it that you speak to me in such places? I cannot make it happen.

There is a place in me to which only you have access. My boots made the bend toward the bridge, and hope, honest hope filled me, rising from a place deep within, beyond the reach of mind and will.

I felt a future I cannot see and tasted tears of a joy, knowing it will be fulfilled.

I know: The day will come when I will be more of what I am, that is … of what you are in me, this Love, this joy, this wonder that you and I are one and always have been.

This day is set aside for remembering and knowing the gratitude of love fulfilled, of promises realized, of graces given and received. There are and have been many.

But the silver current and a house full of laughing grandsons turn my mind from the past.

Joy is now, and this heart will yet find itself full and complete in the Love who finds me and speaks in living water that flows on.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Psalm 65:8

Those who live at earth’s farthest bounds are awed by your signs; you make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy. 

Face the light

Give us songs of praise that speak what is in our hearts, Holy One. For only songs can say what our hearts know: The goodness of love, the beauty of earth, the joy of watching the curve of the sun appear, a sliver of light above the dark waters and purple horizon.

The reeds and bearded grass light gold in the early glow as the great circle of fire rises, half now above its eastern shore.

‘Ah,’ I say, ‘you let it out again.’ The sun that is.

Caged, it was in the darkness until you opened the gate sent it here to me, one more day, one more blessed day to know the blessing of life and love, of joy and hope, of work that lets my heart come from its hiding to be itself, the love you made me to be.

Two words: Thank you. Just, thank you.

Let the morning praise you. Let everything that has breath face the light and see its rising that every face may be warmed by the Love you are. Maybe then we can sing your praise … together … knowing no fear, only the truth of a Love that rises new … every day.

Pr. David L. Miller