with a back drop of deep azure, the mild autumn breeze
gently brushed the Spanish moss
as i looked out over the old church cemetery
kneeling in the stillness of the colonial edifice
the quiet interrupted by passing cars
i sought a refreshing touch
as my weary soul reflected on pilgrimage
from a place of immeasurable blessing
emerges a constant nagging, holy discontent
how to comprehend the tension
guided, protected, provided, forgiven, healed, restored
overwhelmed, favored, gifted, loved
all countered by an ambivalent longing
“There must be more than this!”
“The peace that passes all understanding keep…”
i hear the priests down through the ages
facing these weathered pews
i hear me saying it
so often a so familiar routine
that it wisps past my heart, my mind
yet passing my understanding, my mind, my consciousness
the Master whispers deep within
“My peace I leave with you.” “Peace, be still!”
“These things I have spoken unto you,
that in me you might have peace.”
“I extend peace to you like a river and
the glory of the nations like an overflowing stream.”
i sigh deeply, thinking shamefully of a life too often lived
frenetically without trust in His future grace
“Grace and peace through our Lord Jesus Christ”
the phrase echoing in my heart, strangely
synonymous with a call to repentance
Your grace and peace seem fleeting, Father, only
because in my pride and self-centeredness
i have left my first love
“Come, come let us return to the Lord!”
“If you return to me, I will restore you!”
and so i bow, arms resting on the pew
my soul cries, my heart aches, my body weeps
i glance up towards the altar
my eyes rest upon the lone candle
its flame flickering within the red sconce
“may its brightness never dim” – reads the plaque
again I hear my Prince, my Captain, my King…
“I am the light of the world.” “I am your light.”
the shadows, the ambivalence, the discontent, the tension
all fade, if only for the moment
for until i gaze upon Him face to face
i still see through this mortal veil
awaiting that day when He wipes away every tear
removes all mourning, crying and pain
i will give thanks for the respite of this hallowed place
knowing that even this historic “permanence”
will pass away when He makes all things new
“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
you have loosed my sackcloth & clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!”
- mark d. cooke, 10-24-11
