Friday, September 13, 2024

An "Unmarked" Grave

 An “Unmarked” Grave

The invitations came less often

  and the world seemed to be passing him by

His heart remained full of the fire of his call

  an ever-certain sense of destiny and purpose

Still the feeling of accomplishments unfinished

  goals and ambitions not yet achieved

And the very lingering ponderings

  Did he do enough? Did he make a difference?

  Had the missteps nullified the life-long pursuits?

Brief moments of prayerful reflection

  would remind him, reassure him, redirect him

None of it was ever about him

  though admittedly the attention

  was often deeply satisfying, rewarding

But certainly, heeding the call, giving up all

  should give some satisfaction, some fulfillment

Truly all so fleeting in the grand scheme

  God’s plan, God’s purpose, God’s providence

The Potter and the clay

  molding him however He might choose

  simply asking him to trust and obey

Would not seem too difficult for a heart

  totally surrendered, totally His

“Ay, there’s the rub.”

What does “total” mean, look like?

  is it obtainable in this broken world, this broken life?

 Reflecting on these things, he finds himself

  meandering through a cemetery

  glimpsing at one headstone and another

Every name tells a story, a life, a family, a history

  but there remain few who remember the telling

He knows that it will be true for him one day

  maybe one generation hence or possibly two

    no one left to tell his story

Apart from grand figures in history

  kings, generals, statesmen, artists, writers

  truly, even most of these fade

    into the realm of the forgotten

There might be a name on our grave

  while ever “unmarked” in humanity’s narrative

As sobering this is to our core

  he knows that this is not a place of despair

For time may be marked by cemeteries,

  headstones, crypts and mausoleums

Eternity records all in a most distinct way

  a register, a book, a scroll

And the Lamb on the Throne opening the Book

  with his name in it and many others

  not remembered in this transient world

And one day, maybe sooner than later,

  he will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

 

mark d. cooke, 9-13-24, inspired by a dear brother

The Revelation, The Rivers, The Re-creation

 The Revelation, The Rivers, The Re-creation

The gates of the fortress were tightly barricaded

  I stood outside pounding and shouting

    but I knew no one was coming to open them

I crumpled into the dust outside the walls

  sitting there for days, weeks, years

  hopelessly wishing to find a way in

Believing that surely I could scale the heights

  or pry open the way I once knew

As emptiness filled the passing time

  I felt like an outcast, a leper,

  begging for some morsel of sustenance

To somehow temper the hunger and ache

  in my belly and in my heart

Winds of desolation howled in my mind

Storms of grief assaulted my soul

  producing a disorientation and despair

    previously unknown

There in the hell of this dark night

  I released a primal cry to the heavens

Suddenly in the shadowland came a strong

  but gentle whisper, first to my spirit, “Peace!”

  then to the storms and winds, “Be still!”

An abrupt calm swept over me, around me

  and just as swiftly, I fell into a deep sleep


I have no idea the length of my slumber

  but I was awakened by sweet sounds of birds singing

  with a gentle breeze on my cheek

  a bright sun and the scent of lavender in the air

On the ground beside me lay a pilgrim’s staff

  a water flask, a wine flask, and fresh unleavened bread

The same gentle voice, whispered once again

“Arise and eat, it’s time to go on from this place.”

“And go where, Lord?”

“Arise, go on, it will unfold.”

I took the bread, broke it, blessed it, and ate.

  its heavenly taste was beyond description

I sipped the wine and felt life and joy flowing within

I drank deeply the water

  a most refreshing sweetness in every swallow

Before me now appeared an endless trail

  I took the staff and journeyed on

Days and weeks passed, I continued to wander

  often coming upon other pilgrims

  who would all tell me of storms, heartaches

     and hearing the same voice

They would all convey that they had heard of a City

  where flowed in its midst the River of Life

I thought, “This must the Way that I’m walking.”


Losing track of time, I simply kept moving on

Pausing at a brook for a drink

  I came upon a gray haired pilgrim

 whose appearance was younger than her years

There was a keen light still in her eyes

  but it was apparent that her journey

    had been long and lonely

“Good day Pilgrim, are you alone?” I asked

“Unfortunately, my companion died years ago,

   but I have gotten used to my own company.”

“Mine still lives, but what we shared is no more;

    may I join you for a while?”

    she consented, so we tread on together

Conversation came freely, easily

   rapidly, common threads and dreams emerging

The Way went ever on, and jointly we continued

  both keenly aware of some growing connection

More than mere attraction, a deep bond began to form

  both struggling with the idea of divine providence

Then unexpectedly the Way took a sharp course change

  not so much a fork but the trail moved along a cliff

A sign along the path read “The Safe Route”

  but another sign at cliff’s edge read

   “Leap of Faith, River of Love”

With very little hesitation, we looked at each other

   smiled, nodded and stepped over the precipice

After quite a drop we plunged deeply into the river

   a cold, rapidly moving stream

 Rising to the surface we held on to each other

   caught our breath and rode the current

The exhilarating ride went on for some time

   with us floating, clinging, laughing

Until we began to hear the roar, with little warning

   we rushed over a waterfall and careened down

Deep down into the river

   where we could not hold our breath

Still there was no fear, and that small voice came again

“Drink deeply and find true life, true love,

   for life is not you in the river, but the river in you.”

Stillness and peace washed over us

   as we stood hand in hand, breathing living water

   walking on the river bed in a crystal clear flow

The River of Love was indeed the River of Life

   and most assuredly, the River was the Way

   and the lonely pilgrims were now companions, lovers

That which had been before the plunge was no more

   a new day had dawned, a new thing created

The River washed out old wounds, pains and sorrows

   new life, new love, a new making all flowed in

The pilgrims knew that the One, the still small voice

   had rescued them, joined them, re-created them

Gratitude flooded their hearts, praise rose up

   as they committed to ever worship Him

      and to always love each other

 

mark. d. cooke

Tuesday, August 13, 2024

This Place, This Cup

 

This Place, This Cup

everything that has gone before

   has brought me to this place

every cup of joy, every cup of sorrow

the cup of liberating service,

   the cup of drudgery and duty

the cup of friendship and of betrayal

  the cup of pilgrimage and of stagnation

the cup of success and of failure

the cup of hard-fought victory

  and of unexpected defeat

 

the cup of belonging and family

  and of disintegration, death and divorce

the cup of peace and contentment

  and of strife and confusion

the cup of adoption and acceptance

  and of abandonment and rejection

the cup of love, mercy and grace

  and of bitterness and unforgiveness

the cup of repentance and reconciliation

  and of withdrawal and estrangement

 

the list is endless of all the cups

  that are the one cup from which

  i have sought to quench my thirst

 

every cup, every sip, the one cup

  has brought me to this place

  this place?

a place of new life, new hope,

  new love, new home, new family

a new beginning with a new cup

a cup of overflowing abundance

  and of fresh expectation

a cup of rest, recovery and healing

 

His Cup taken from His Hand

 

And He took a cup, and when He had given thanks

 He gave it to them, saying, ‘Drink of it, all of you…’”

 

“I will lift up the cup of salvation

  and call on the Name of the LORD.”

 

-         mark d. cooke, 8-13-24

 

 

Friday, July 5, 2024

Journey to Freedom

 

Journey to Freedom

 

i was trapped by my own brokenness

  bound by another’s bitterness

after a lifelong vocation

  proclaiming liberty, freedom and forgiveness

i found myself in chains

  seemingly of my own making

a bondage that made mockery

  of everything i believed and stood for

but there were friends

  that stuck closer than a brother

and a divine outlet where I cared

  for others whose lives

  were in much darker places

 

nevertheless, my mind reeled

  from a comprehensive disorientation

even as i put one step before another

  surviving on daily routines

  work, phone calls, dinners, visits

i lived in a haze for quite some time

  forever wondering if this crushing limbo

  was destined to go on endlessly

mercifully, perplexity did not end in despair

  for in this desert

  i found water from a rock


yes, in this dry, arid, desolate place

  a stream unexpectedly began to flow

cool, refreshing, pure and soul satisfying

  strangely unbelievable, surreally dreamlike

  but undeniably thirst-quenching, invigorating

suddenly the painful disorientation

  was swept away

  by an equally intense, heavenly bewilderment

“How could this be?”

“Is this really happening?”

“Is there truly a new chapter in this story?”

“How did these chains fall off?”

“Certainly, this must just be a dream.”

 

but she was no dream, no vain imagination

  she literally parachuted into this weary life

  embracing me with love,

  healing, wholeness and a hope

a hope that there was a new tomorrow

a hope that condemnation had been cast aside

a hope that a life companion had been found

a hope that God still had good plans for me, for us

and on this Independence Day

  i would hold her in my arms, breathe deeply

giving thanks to our Maker

     for this journey to freedom.

-         mark d. cooke, 7-4-24

Friday, March 29, 2024

A Very Good Friday

A Very Good Friday 

It is the very first Semana Sancta with my new wife 
  such a strange phrase “my new wife” 
not being a widower, another odd expression exists 
  my first Holy Week with an ex-wife 
and on this day of reflection, remembering, mourning 
  attempting to comprehend the immeasurable suffering 
    of the Agnus Dei 
the recent, personal pilgrimage of death and resurrection 
  pales in context and comparison 
He suffered for me, you and all humanity 
  to redeem a broken, corrupt and rebellious world 
my life, my heart have certainly not been unscathed 
  by the brokenness, the corruption, the rebellion 
    in truth, they have too often marked this journey 
and yet there has ever been hope, resilience, renewal 
  if not always restoration or reconciliation 
because of this day, on a “hill far away” 
  (I have knelt on that Hill) 
  once again, I am invited to begin again 
to recalibrate my heart and life to a Kingdom 
  not of this world 
to venerate the sacred means of a once for all sacrifice 
  to meditate on the Via Dolorosa 
the stations, the agony, the pain, the obedience 
  the love 
to join with the great cloud of witnesses of all ages 

the Church militant, the Church penitent 
  the Church triumphant, the pilgrim Church 
the Church – that great mystery of God
  hidden from all ages past, until 
until this day, this Holy Week, this weekend 
  His triumphal entry, His last days, His Last Supper 
  His betrayal, His Gethsemane, His arrest 
  His trial, His beating, His suffering, His Cross 
  His death, His burial, His glorious resurrection 
and now two thousand years later, miles away 
  cultures away, generations away 
midst a divided, broken Church 
  a broken, divided world with broken, divided lives 
this Day above all others declares, “It is finished!” 
  the earth quakes, chains fall, lies are shattered 
and Hope proclaims that brokenness is never permanent 
  divisions of heart and home may be healed 
still, there remains a space between 
  between suffering and resurrection, death and life 
Today is a very Good Friday 
  where we are all called to humbly remember 
Tomorrow, Holy Saturday 
  demands stillness, reflection, waiting, anticipation 
for the Son of Righteousness is about to rise 
  with healing in His wings. 

3-29-24, mark d. cooke

Friday, March 31, 2023

Please Forgive Me

 

Please Forgive Me

 

For every time my response was a harsh word

   rather than showing Christ-like kindness

     please forgive me

For when I acted with self-centeredness

   rather than displaying Christ-like sacrifice

     please forgive me

For all the answers coming from frustration

   rather than having Christ-like patience

      please forgive me

For every moment of insensitivity

   rather than seeking Christ-like understanding

      please forgive me

For whenever I wanted my needs met

    rather than offering Christ-like compassion

       please forgive me

For when I met your brokenness with anger

    rather than giving Christ-like grace

       please forgive me

For every time your heartache hardened me

    rather than having Christ-like mercy

       please forgive me

For all the times I failed to be who you needed

    rather than being a Christ-like companion

       please forgive me

For when disappointment closed my heart

    rather than opening to Christ-like love

       please forgive me

 

“There is a friend that sticks closer than a brother.”

 

mark d. cooke, 3-31-23

 

 

Saturday, March 25, 2023

I Choose Forgiveness

 

I Choose Forgiveness

Because of Your undeserved mercy

   i choose forgiveness

Because I hear You from the tree

    “Father forgive them,

      for they know not what they do.”

  i choose forgiveness

Amid feelings of abandonment

  i choose forgiveness

When trust is replaced with betrayal

  i choose forgiveness

In the face of accusations

      by the enemy of my soul

  i choose forgiveness

When the spirit of condemnation

    overwhelms me

  i choose forgiveness

Because unforgiveness is a poison

  i choose forgiveness

When the hurt rises back up

  i choose forgiveness

When surrounded by confusion

    misunderstanding and injustice

  i choose forgiveness

Since without it I’m held captive

  i choose forgiveness

Because I desire healing and wholeness

  i choose forgiveness

Because it is Your will for me

  i choose forgiveness

 

mark d. cooke, 3-25-23