Who Is This God

They said their prayers, on their knees, at their beds. All of the family members were remembered as they asked God to hear their prayers. From hut, house, mansion, or cardboard box, prayers are offered to a God as the sun sets around the world.

Who is this God? Is he the God who causes the pain that sends a child to a hospital or is he the God who created the doctors? Is he the God who let's a child walk out healed, or is he the God that allows the parents to leave alone. Is he the God who answers prayers with miracles or the God of No? Is he the God who answers the teenagers prayer for a car, or the God who denies the Mothers prayer to keep her son safe on the highway? Is this the God we ask for peace or the God who who lets our sons and daughters be damaged and destroyed in war?

Maybe this is the God who is alone with us in times of deep sorrow and humble joy. Maybe mercy and moments of peace in times of great sorrow and joy are the miracles and blessings of God. And that's enough.

Harvesting Memories

Last sounds of mowers
through open doors.
Sights and sounds of young sons,
in my mind.
Harvesting memories
blurred by puddles.

Depths of Grief

In 2005 I bought a book to understand this blogging thing people were talking about. My first entries were about ideas related to an attitude of abundance. I knew so little. Maybe I learned the door to deeper understanding opens whether you nudge it, push it, or decline to open it. All that's required for the opportunity is to stand at the door.

"Abundance" became a way to say, from the depths of grief, goodbye and I love you. Five years and four months later I may not yet be ready to say goodbye. A photo in the paper this weekend of a DeForest football player in your 15 jersey choked me. It's fall and I will always love you.

Reminder

Just an observation--You can't always get what you want; but you get what you need.

My son has been sad because something he wants to keep seems to be gone. Something he didn't expect to lose is being lost. Something he worked smart on slipped away.

Today I got a chance to walk in his moccasins. Shows me once again: sad is sad regardless of the cause. Maybe I needed the reminder. I didn't want to be reminded. I wanted what I wanted.