Contemplating the beauty of our family tree

Creator of our family tree
(especially the branch called “me”)
please let our roots grow deep and strong
so it will stand secure.

From limb to limb our tree has grown.
And, Lord, You’ve seen how winds have blown.
But, by Your grace strong storms could not
uproot what You preserve.

Allow the blossoms on our tree
to scent our world most fragrantly.
And may the fruit that we will bear
help nourish those You love.

Within the shadow of our tree,
may friends and strangers come to see
the love that binds each one of us
in spite of miles and years.

What we can learn from Steve Bartman about grace

Steve Bartman was the butt of jokes.
To Cubbies fans, he was a goat
who jinxed Chicago’s Series dreams
some fourteen years ago.  

His urge to catch a foul ball fly
(that left his critics cursing “why?”)
spelled doomsday for the hated lout.
Steve Bartman was Black Bart.  

And though he loved his Northside team,
Steve was a hated man it seemed.
He took his life into his hands
whenever he went out.  

And then this week redemption came.
A Series ring with Bartman’s name
was given to the Foul Ball Boy
to say that all is well.  

It is a picture of God’s grace.
The guilty one (once deemed abased),
is now included in the clan
that claims the victor’s crown.

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/07/31/sports/baseball/steve-bartman-chicago-cubs-world-series-ring.html

A resurrection of sorts

The kid was collapsing.
No hope is in sight.
His Open was shutting.
His knuckles were white.

The Ghost of Augusta
was gripping his throat.
We knew what was coming
while watching him choke.

And then Jordan rallied.
His passageway cleared.
His instant recovery
assuaged all our fears.

It’s one for the ages
(an Open now closed)
as one we watched dying
revived and arose.

http://www.golf.com/tour-news/2017/07/23/jordan-spieth-wins-british-open-dramatic-fashion-gutsy-performance-royal-birkdale

Asking God to heal a Senator and his colleagues

God, beam your grace to John McCain
as he looks up to You
acknowledging dependence on Your care.
Remind him when he’s weak You’re strong
and willing to draw near
whoever seeks Your face through trusting prayer.

Be near his wife and family
and give them means to hope
that all things work together for our good,
that crises come to test our faith
and focus our belief
that we have strength to do the things we should.

And may John’s cancer call to mind
the need to unify
divided men and women and The Hill.
May senators and congressmen
admit their arrogance
while praying for a colleague who is ill.

Celebrating Canada’s 150th birthday

A Toast to our Next Door Neighbor

This year’s our neighbor’s birthday
and I’m hoping that she knows
just how much it means to us that she is there.
She’s a friend we’ve grown to cherish.
She is generous and kind.
Yes, our neighbor always looks for ways to share.

Born in 1867,
she is strong beyond her years.
And this year’s a chance to celebrate her birth.
Raise a Molson or some Murchie’s
and then sing “O Canada”
to commemorate our next-door neighbor’s worth.

Happy 150th Canada!

Children of a Common Mother

Children of a common mother
share a border like no other.
There’s no wall that can divide us
based on all that yet unites us.

We both speak King George’s English
as we feast on chips and codfish.
While we Yanks prefer our coffee,
our dear siblings sip their hot tea.

Both our nations boast rare beauty.
Our resources fuel our duty
to preserve our Mother’s Nature
and protect it so it stays pure.

We are allies fighting terror
as we seek God’s help through prayer.
Brothers, sisters we’re united
and that makes our Mum delighted.

(the above words can be sung to the tune for the old Swedish hymn “Children of a Heavenly Father.”)