"Whispers Of Love"

Have you ever been held by Him?
Have you ever held Him?

Have you ever curled upon His lap,
and buried your nose in the fragrance of His robe?

Have you ever fallen,
and had Him there to catch you?

Have you ever soared,
and found Him flying next to you?

Have you ever seen the wings
that He sends to protect you?

Have you ever felt the breeze,
and known He's right beside you?

Oh my friend...do not live your life not knowing,
The beauty of Him...and the Whisper's of His Love.

~ Suzy 2004

"The Passion Of Our Christ"

We speak of His passion towards us.
But what of our passion towards Him?

How well do we know Him?

Are we a regular visitor to His heart?
Or an occasional voice when in need?

I want to know Him...really know Him.
Not only by His words.
I want to know His heart...how He feels about me.

I want to know what He loves about me...
What He sees in me...why He died for me.

I want to know what His favorite flower is,
and I want to pick my favorite flower for Him to smell and see.

Does He have a favorite color?
Does He cry when I cry?
Does He hurt when I hurt?

Does He smile, when I smile?

And when He winks.
Oh, I love it when He winks at me.
Letting me know that He is there....even in the small things.

His Passion is My passion.
Together...the two of us...making life's journey...as one.

Suzy ~ 2004

"Too"

I made a comment recently.  In fact, I've said something similar on several occasions.  Amazing how one's own statements can create wonder, judgment and perhaps hope.

I said, "I am too old for this crap," in reference to a certain situation.  I then found myself repeating the notion in a couple of different settings.  When the thought about this finally kicked me in the behind, I became humiliated and filled with a new respect for this time in my life.

You see, I am what we know as "middle aged."  I remember so well the days of my youth, when I was so overwhelmed with anticipation, desire, drive and dreams.  I also remember a kind of powerlessness.

"Powerless" sounded to me like this: "I am too young, I am too ignorant, too uneducated, too inexperienced, I am too poor." "I am too weak, I am too short."  "I am too average, I am too bereft of political influence," and on and on.  These statements were of course true, and they gave me some comfort in my failed attempts to change the world; which for some inexplicable reason, I felt that I should attempt to accomplish.

But you see; I am now not young.  I am educated, experienced, wealthy.  I am strong, (still short).  I have excelled, and know that my good fortune has made me anything but average.  I have political influence, and on and on.

So what is this nonsense about being too old?

Perhaps this is the very time in my life when my conviction about making changes in this world actually has teeth.  You see, excuses are just so easy; and great desires are not just the aspirations of the youthful.  In this, the year of my 50th birthday, I have all of the "Too's" which apparently constrained me as a young man.  So imagine my distress at the sudden awakening when hearing my own "too old" expression.

If I am in the midst of opportunity, then God grant me the energy to act. Let me help those I encounter and have great bravado.  Let me articulate the issues before the political forces who will now listen to me.  Let me find around me the disenfranchised voices of young people like I was - and walk them through "Too"....to "Do."

You see, I am watching "too old" happen to some who are walking ahead of me. Yes...it does come...and all too soon.

My prayer and dream is that during these days, I will recognize, organize and utilize the resources of which I am now the keeper.  For if I do not give this away now, in the time of their integration, I may become "too old."  I can not allow myself to look back in later years and know that "too old" came too soon. 

"Lord, for all of us who can, help us act....Now."

~ Bob 2001

"Alone"

I am reminded tonight of the exuberance I have in meeting someone new.  The sheer pleasure of letting their life’s story wash over me.

The simple details of what I am told, and the wonder of trying to fill in the gaps from what I am not told.  You see, it is not curiosity, it is not the desire for more information in which to adopt a disinterested distance, but conversely, it is the pure joy – like listening to a symphony – a piece of art that I wish to be lost in.  To actually feel, smell, touch and taste like another does.  It arouses in me senses and sensibility to which I would otherwise have no access.

In my line of work, I hear peoples “stories” all day.  They do so because they need to; they are ill and afraid and are asking for some “expertise” in return.

I wonder if anyone can imagine my joy in the experience of knowing something of the artwork that is another’s life.  Given freely, with no expectation of anything in return; but only for their unexpressed knowledge that I have been there, listened, and heard the words that are the notes of their symphony.

I am sickened by pop psychologists and theologians who foster the notion of the merits of aloneness.  I think that this most popular of ideas, which suggests that psychological health is found in the fundamental acceptance of aloneness, is absurd.

For what is ‘alone’?   It is many things of course. It might be well understood as a time of reflection upon ones involvements, both past and future.  I believe that I am speaking of a philosophy of engagement vs. a philosophy of disengagement.  Engagement is the thing that draws us to others and they to ourselves.  It is to sing in the chorus as you fall in love with the lead that sings his or her song.  It is to listen and hear the melody that swirls around the verses, which are the heart and soul of another’s life.

Disengagement makes the purchase of distance between one’s self and any other person.  It is to sit in the audience at the performance, rather than to sing in the choir.  Disengagement politicizes involvements so as to listen but not join in on the chorus.

Alone is fine – but only if it builds a base from which I can be more fully present, to sing along with more bravado.  Alone is fine – if in it’s confines, it gives more ability to be 'not alone' – more present in another’s life.  It is not the ‘self actualized’ moment of peace, which needs no other; it is the moment that should create the release to allow one to give their entire energy to be ‘affected’ by another.

Alone is not the goal that will allow peace – it is a state of mind, which should create a stage – for another to sing…

~ Bob 2001

"Shores of Sorrow"

Slowly, came  an angry young man to life
The worlds blood washing his soul with its strife
A child's open heart,
Lives broken, adrift in the dark
In the longing to give he is torn apart
And as the years exact such a heavy toll
What hope is there left
Set sail lonely man child, drawn into a squall

Washed up on the shores of sorrow
From adrift in a violent sea
Who might count the years; the weight of the fears
Whence came the Three and yes, they beckoned to him
His name was known, he was called to his home
To look into the dawn where they walked along
A burst of light, his soul took flight
and in the joy of this embrace he belongs.

The storm raged on, screaming out to the calm
With little breath left and lashed to the mast
An Island in sight.
A current of voices from the years of the pain
Guide his vessel of despair with a gentle surf
In a solitary cove the storm gives way to a gentle shower 
With the freshness of Spring
The sand rises up, It reaches out - draws him ashore.

Washed up on the shores of sorrow
From adrift in a violent sea
Who might count the years, the weight of the fears
Whence came the Three and yes, they beckoned to him
His name was known, and he was called to his home
To look into the dawn as they walked along
A burst of Light, his soul took flight
And in the joy of this embrace he belongs.

~ Bob 2000

"Hope"

Hope is often recognized by many.

Hope is often experienced by few.

A national epidemic of depression

underlines its scarcity.

But who has not at least witnessed Hope

in the warmth and smile of a special person,

in the midst of a horrible illness or pain?

We have all had a glimpse of this most noble gift.

Imagine with me that Hope is not an emotion or a feeling.

Imagine that hope is a posture...Attainable simply by a daily choice to ask for it.

Imagine friend, that you alone have the capacity

to give Hope to those you meet each day.

You see, it is ours for the asking

But is surely not ours alone to keep.

Give just one day of asking for and giving this...

the Prince of all gifts, and...

You will never be the same.

~ Bob 2001

"WORDS"

\

What might the world be like,

if we respected the awesome power

of the spoken word?

Words -- All Words -- are soil which nurtures

the fruit of the Human Spirit.

Angry, bitter, hateful words.

Caring, consoling, hopeful words.

You see, they ALL bear fruit.

They build or they destroy.

Just think of it!

A word spoken can never be retracted.

Each word comes to rest in the heart of every person who hears it.

I am humiliated at the recall of some of my own words.

If I could only take them back.  

I Can't.

May this day I choose words with great precision.

May I place them with great tenderness.

May they bear the fruit I have dreamed of,

Peace...Laughter...Harmony.

Yes, my words Do change the world.

Today God, let that be a change for the better.

~ Bob 2001

"The Gift"

May I know this day

the gift of kindness.

A word, an expression, or a gesture.

This is a gift of such great value

because it is so rare.

Give me great wealth today

Such that I may divest myself

of all of it.

For tomorrow the treasure will grow,

Only to be given again.

~ Bob 2001

This page was created and added to The Sanctuary in March of  2001. 

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