A month of men (plus two) sing Easter praise;
When Hope Collapses Around You

A Day of Resurrection
A month of men (plus two) sing Easter praise

Thirty-three men and one common prayer.
Freedom.

A month of men (plus two)
knew help was on the way,
but they were forced to wait
for what seemed like years
praying rosaries,
playing games,
staying fit,
staying strong
in the midst of the rubble of doubt
that surrounded them.

A month of men (plus two)
knew they had no choice
but to shoulder the wait
with much sweat
and little sleep
deep in the bowels of Mother Earth.

For two months and seven days
rescue workers tirelessly mined
for thirty-three miners
whose mettle is much more notable
than the copper and gold
hiding in the Chilean caves
that might well
have been their graves.

Two months and seven days
after the “mining expedition” began
an Easter-like lyric
punctuated South America’s
transfer of power from winter to spring
(death giving way to life)…

“Up from the cave they arose!”

A month of men (plus two)
vertically ascended
one at a time
in resurrection glory,
freed from the greedy grasp
of the Grim Reaper
and released into the joyful embrace
of familiar arms.

The miners have risen!
They have risen indeed!
Thanks be to God!
Gracias, Señor!

* http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2010/10/13/chile-second-half-rescues/?hpt=T1&iref=BN1

** http://www.aolnews.com/story/with-rescue-miners-private-lives-come-to/1330847*** Tras 70 días de encierro en la mina San José, los mineros decidieron vestirse todos de la misma manera. Una camiseta, que dice “Gracias Señor,” (thank you Lord) y que en la parte trasera se lee “son suyas las profundidades de la tierra, son suyas las cumbres de los montes. A Él la gloria y el honor.”
 English translation: “The depths of the earth are His, the the height of the mountains are His. To Him, glory and honor.” (from Psalm 95)

When Hope Collapses Around You
A call to look up with faith

When it seems like all hope
has been buried alive,
when you’re trapped and convinced
that you’ll never survive,
when your memory fails you
of times you have thrived,
from the darkness of doubt
just look up.

If the source of your joy
has collapsed on itself,
if your future’s in question
because of your health,
if both Wall Street and Main Street
have stolen your wealth,
from the darkness of doubt,
just look up.

Though you struggle to breathe
from the lack of fresh air,
though the walls that you’ve leaned on
cave-in everywhere,
though you aren’t really sure
if the world is aware,
from the darkness of doubt
just look up.