Skip to main content
I used to be afraid of rainbows
I could not embrace the scarlet letter placed upon me by the church
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Near drowning experiences did not appeal to me
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Until I found community as a life raft that kept me afloat in the ocean of my own tears
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Because I could not claim the freedom of authentic love
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Until I lived into the prism created by the water of my baptism
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Until the church taught me that rainbows are born of the love and covenant of God.
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Until the liberating love of Jesus set up home in my soul
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Now I hide myself with and among them.
I used to be afraid of rainbows
Until the fore running storm and the subsequent light gave my life color.
I used to be afraid of rainbows.

Now I fear for a colorless void.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poems, Prayers, Names and Connections

It has long been joked and understood that I am the glorious, difficult to describe, anomaly that happens when hippies have children and raise them on hearty diet of Jesus Christ, Joan Baez and Dr. Seuss. I was sung to sleep with James Taylor tunes and taught to recite the Apostles Creed. My musical intake consisted of John Rutter on Sunday mornings and Jimi Hendrix on the drive home. Grandpa schooled us in Pete Seeger's expansive catalogue. Mom steeped us in words and melody of John Denver tunes.  She was a dedicated and devoted fan. Denver's words, perspective and bond to nature served as her poetic  anchors. She valued his insight and articulation of the human spirit tremendously and looked to his eloquence for my name. The second stanza to "Zachary and Jennifer" poetically dreams of the naming of children :  And we want to call her Jennifer And she'll dance in fields of flowers And she'll sing in summer showers Lending music to the time Oh we want to l...
Post a Comment
Read more

Saying Yes to The Work of Christmas

"Will you go?" "Yes." After spending a day helping to lead three Christmas services, the students in my young adult program were asked if they would take an extra hour, make a fourth stop and visit a family from out of state who is receiving cancer treatment in Tulsa and is unable to go home for Christmas.  "Will you go?" I asked.  "Yes", they responded.  We arrived and asked, "May we sing for you?"  "Yes", they said.  A clergy person read scripture from the Book of John - the story and promise of light overcoming darkness Then we sang.  Each note invited the presence of light, love and peace into the corner room of the ICU.  "May we pray with you?"  "Yes", the family said.  Gathered in the room of strangers, friends that had known each other for a lifetime grasped hands with  new friends who we had come to know through the sharing of song.  The mood was brighter upon our leaving. Hearts were just a tad bit...
Post a Comment
Read more

Beginning of the end

My mother was always gracious enough to let my camera accompany us on her numerous medical journeys. in the ten plus years we walked those roads, I had multiple conversations with outsiders who looked upon this as disrespectful or inappropriate. Mom and I both knew that she had a story to share. I always felt that when the time was right, the images would begin to speak for themselves. And for her. Her story, her history, her journey was one that was so intricate and complex words often failed to convey the experience authentically while simultaneously retaining her humanity.  What follows is a short documentary project from May 2013. This is the first time these images have been outside the hands of trusted friends and confidants. In sharing these, we begin another journey. All images copyrighted. 
Post a Comment
Read more