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