It was all supposed to be so simple.
We had it all planned.
When the time came, Protestant roots dead and rotted,
we would walk away together,
destination: Rome.
All is ready, trunks packed, passage reserved,
And the wind is beginning to fill the sails.
Very soon, we are to board the ship;
But, to my grief and confusion, I cannot.
I stand on the store and watch as all is made ready.
It sails soon, in the eve, at vespers;
towards the sunset.
Another ship waits for me.
It has been waiting patiently.
It also sails soon,
at dawn as the star rises
towards the sunrise.
It's a long road of repentance.
Repentance is the only journey
that has a destination.
My heart tells me that the route may differ,
yet we have the same destination;
it is not a place, but a Person.
The same One who guides our courses.
I try to shut out the ugly warnings;
words like shipwrecks, storms,
those who go down in ships amid
chartless crossings angry seas.
I look to the sky for the guiding Star;
I listen only for the still small voice.
I fight, I calculate, I predict, I pray;
I , I , I overshadow the very thing I seek;
Once I started listening to the cacophony,
even adding to it with my own voice.
His voice was drowned out.
Wanderers, angels, demons, all my selves
shouting to be heard, attended to, believed, affirmed.
This is what comes of sitting down
on the throne of your heart.
How many night have passed since
since I woke to find Him gone.
"I have been going through the streets and broad ways,
seeking Him whom my soul loveth?
I sought Him, but found Him not."
They have taken away my Lord
And I do not know where they have laid Him."
Me thinks she dost protest too much.
He never left me, it was I who chose to wander.
Though the path was clearly marked, well travelled;
complete with a guide and shepherd,
it wasn't the path I wanted to travel,
sacrifice, doubts, uncharted, and alone?
But in truth, I forgot my First Love
Suddenly, when it came to it,
I had faith, only because another
had faith for me, when he found me beaten and left for dead on that Jericho road. 32 years was long enough for the paralytic to lounge at the pool, and maybe the waters are stirring and I need to find out what it means to be whole.
But I want it all, and easily:
My First Love, my earthly loves, my comforts, my easy life.
I cry foul; changing the rules, the entire game that I worked so hard to learn, even master. We followed the rules,
Searched Prayed and infromed Him of our plans; there was nothing in the rules about seperate plans. cowardice can hide under the guise of submission, as much as rebellion can masquarade as courage.
It is a fearsome thing to fall into the hands of a God who will not let you settle for less than perfection. It is a mercy that God allows one to have enough faith for two. It is an indulgence to expect it.
Mark this: One flesh doesn't equal one soul
We will stand before God alone;
And the way to salvation is unique as each soul,
We all pass through Christ,
but he loves us in a thousand ways
We would have no hope, if He didn't.
I must repent a thousand times of the something
a more pliable soul gets the very first time.
So, it's time to trust our Maker,
And for the first time, without bitterness,
we look at our maps together.
We look and cry, laugh, and smile and cry some more.
His leads to Rome, no mistake about that.
Mine passes first through to doubt and grief,
but that part is almost finished;
and then on to the East
to the Brightest Joy I will ever know.
We can accept this only because we know
there is One who loves each of us more
than we love each other.
Oh, dearest wife of Lot, you deserve much more mercy than history has shown you.
For two years now
He has been leading me toward the Orthodox Church.
For my part, I did not seek it;
I ran in any direction
that kept the Orthodox Church at my back.
But He kept on, ever so gently, unbidden, kept leading me back.
And when I resisted He turned up the heat.
The Roman Catholic "Hound of Heaven"
may be large, fierce, relentless, and sharp in tooth;
but the Orthodox version is a small puntable yapping furball
that would rather die from being kicked away
than cease nipping at your heels
For awhile, I thought I could stand still,
remain in my old protestant home church, and wait.
For clearer guidance,
for Godot,
for courage....
But there is no going back, and no standing still,
and the direction on my compass has four E's.
He sails West on the Vigil of Easter, maybe before;
and he will sail alone.
My choice, as if there is one,
is to let that ship wait a bit longer,
retrace a few steps, finish one thing yet unfinished,
and then to sail East.
Two ships sailing in opposite directions
to the same destination.
And the future may yet hold a long sought blessing;
"That they may be One.."
and we hope and pray with all our heart,
that the World is truely round.
Photos:
window: angelray
ruins: btsergio
ship: COMRADE
dress: JUDE
doors: luza
sail boat golden BOAT/SEA/SUNRIS E 303346973_c890bf851d.jp