Praying for Barbara Bush’s best friend

In the Lone Star State
Queen Barbara’s mate
grows weaker by the day.
Yes, “41”
seems almost done.
And so for him we pray.

May King George find
that Thou art kind
as loved ones hold his hand.
Lord, grant him grace
that he may face
the ending Thou hast planned.

And when it comes
may “41”
embrace the mystery.
Our faith attests
in Christ we’re blest
to live eternally.

A tribute to a former First Lady

Long ago in a windswept desert,
a man named Moses
encountered a bush.
It was far from an ordinary one.
It was aflame with meaning.

What Moses saw and heard
conveyed a Divine Presence.
Because he was on sacred soil,
he took off his shoes.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience!
But he was not alone.

We, too, have encountered an extraordinary Bush.
Her name was Barbara.
And like that bush of old,
she was ablaze with life.
This President’s wife
and President’s mother
was a source of both warmth and light.
Wherever she stood was holy ground.

To be in her presence was a source of amazement.
In a political wasteland,
Barbara Bush was a thing of beauty.
In the barren desert of disunity,
she was a welcomed oasis.
Her candid comments were a refreshing contrast
to a plethora of image-conscious
crowd-pleasers’
politically-correct sound bytes.

Our former First Lady was second to none
when it came to modeling discernment and dignity.
She heard the people’s hearts
while clearly speaking her mind.

Today Barbara heard a Robin sing
(and a life companion cry)
as the gates of Heaven opened
to welcome her home.

Peace to her memory!

*In May 1985 Barbara Bush walked by my wife and me looking our way as we sat in Edman Chapel at Wheaton College in suburban Chicago waiting to hear her husband deliver the commencement address.

Facing up to what’s gone wrong

About face, Mr. Zuckerberg.
It’s time to turn around.
Your followers need answers now.
Don’t mute their plaintiff sound.

About face, Mr. Zuckerberg.
You’re off the mark! Oh my!
Your face is blushing beet-like red
while Congress asks you “why?”

Why did you let our data go?
Why did you fall asleep?
Just face it, Zuck, we trusted you
with stats you pledged to keep.

Why do you think it’s no big deal?
Why do you seem non-plus?
They might well throw the book at you
for what you’ve done to us.

Recalling Dr. King’s Death 50 years ago

He voiced his dream in ’63
in hopes that he would live to see
a nation where equality
was more the norm than not.

But then by 1968
a country marked by godless hate
fed nightmares jumping o’er the gate
that trampled Martin’s dream.

And fifty years have now gone by
since he who dreamed was forced to die
while millions grieved while asking why.
His death remains a wound.

And wounds that never seem to heal
explain the pain we still can feel.
Perhaps it’s time for us to kneel
confessing sin to God.

“Forgive us, Lord, for all we do
that keeps the dream from coming true.
For those of us who worship You
should love like Jesus did.”