Thrust into the wilderness,    unwilling     terrified      without choice

heels dug in, bloodied as I go       ahead         anyhow

landmarks lost      gone

life cracked     broken     stripped

alone    grieving     lost.


Newness comes

the present moment breaks through

the Now is greater than grieving the past or fearing the future

it demands I see    feel     hear

around me I find  beauty     life     love

and people,    old and dear      and new

Spirit waits, and fills me when I trust enough to breathe again.


I become    full     whole     grateful

capable again to do God’s will.  Life beckons and I respond.


Perhaps next time could I have more faith?

Instead of being slammed by that clay tablet

maybe I could just read the postcard from heaven?

—Pat Matthews