Empathizing with those who have it

The house pet Winston Churchill had
would drive him to the brink
He called the beast he walked each day Black Dog.
It bit him fairly often
and would leave him prone to tears
while calling out in heartfelt prayer to God

Abe Lincoln also knew these bites.
They forced him to his knees
Depression robbed him of his peace of mind
The demons of discouragement
possessed him to the end
You can see their traces in his forehead lines.

Black Dog’s sharp teeth have bitten me.
I know the pain they cause.
The dark clouds of depression hid the light.
I withered in the darkness
without words to voice my grief
as I stumbled in the never-ending night.

Only those who’ve known this torture
can relate to such despair.
Depression’s victims share a common plight.
But, thank God, there is an answer
in both therapists and prayer
and the Healer who helps lead us to the light.

* Churchill referred to his depression as “the black dog.” Why not do a web search for famous people who battled clinical depression? I “hit the wall” in 1991 but benefited from a helpful therapist, a praying wife, a supportive congregation and a faithful God.

Pondering Lincoln’s legacy on the 204th anniversary of his birth

Lincoln, Lincoln, I’ve been thinkin’
after seeing Spielberg’s flick
’bout the way you led our nation
when it was seduced and sick.

Lincoln, Lincoln, I’ve been wond’ring
if you felt misunderstood
when your friends and critics fought you
as you lobbied to do good.

Lincoln, Lincoln, I’ve been praying
that your brave and godly life
will be replicated often
as our country bleeds from strife.

Lincoln, Lincoln, I’ve still hoping
what you dreamed of will come true.
Charity, no room for malice,
choosing right in what we do.

* This poem about Lincoln is dedicated to my longtime friend Congressman Peter J. Roskam. The Honorable Mr. Roskam has represented the 6th District in Lincoln’s home state of Illinois since 2007. From my perspective, Peter is a brave and godly man who seeks to replicate our 16th President’s perspective of “charity for all and malice toward none.”

Rambling thoughts as our nation turns 237 years old

As we approach yet another Fourth of July
it is good to be reminded 
that all that flickers are not sparklers
and that which brightens this night of celebration
is not just an explosive display in the sky.

The birthday candles on our nation’s cake
are flaming reminders of a much-decorated past.
They illuminate a long and winding road
reaching back in time revealing a rich history.

But the candlelight that dances in the wind
also exposes smudges in the icing
for which we should be ashamed.
We are old enough to know better
than to leave God out
of our public displays of affection.

After all, it is because of Him that 
our nation is better known
(in spite of what we sometimes think)
for our successes more than for our failures.

Good fortune has marked our past
and it frames our future.
Yes, we are a fortunate lot.
An envied democracy.
A kaleidoscopic array of colors, cultures and creeds
refracted by a prism of countless opportunities.
A spectrum of humanity
attesting to the creativity of our Creator.

With gratitude to the God
who conceived our amazing country
and birthed us to be a beacon to the world,
we celebrate the past
even as we contemplate the future.

We are America’s children
pledging allegiance to its flag
as well as to its core values
of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

May the candles on our nation’s cake never go out!

A tragedy of Titanic proportions

They called her a vessel that God couldn’t sink,
a cruise ship that dwarfed all the rest.
A thousand feet tall and 900 feet long.
It was the White Star’s very best.

Titanic they named her. A titan at sea.
More than 2,200 set sail
for the trip of a lifetime (in more ways than one).
A maiden voyage destined for Hell.

An iceberg in-waiting tore open her hull,
a tempter the ship didn’t see.
Too proud to be cautious, she paid pride’s full price
and sank to the depths of the sea.

And so the Titanic provides us the means
to ponder the pride in our lives.
Are we blind to temptations that could take us down?
Do we render such icebergs a guise?

Or do we acknowledge we’re likely to sink
unless we draw nearer to God?
Our choice is not destined. We aren’t ships of fate.
We can choose to steer clear of sin’s fog.

Reflections on the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial

The very week it was to have opened,
it was closed due to a quake.

But make no mistake
it wasn’t closed for long.
It couldn’t be.
It was long overdue.

Like Dr. King,
its visionaries had a dream
that would not disappear with the dawn.
“Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope…”

It is a lasting memorial on the Washington Mall
that will recall for years to come
the Fall in the Garden
and the reverse of the curse
that had caged people as animals.

A king’s ransom was spent
on this profile of courage
rendered in stone.
The countenance
of a short preacher man
whose legacy’s grown
larger than life and taller than truth
but apt for the cause he espoused.

And (I’m guessing)
this “prophet of peace”
would be humbled,
yet proud.

Perhaps the earthquake
that rocked DC this week
was Mother Nature’s way of recognizing one
who jolted the landscape of permissive prejudice
while shattering stereotypes
and leveling the playing field for all persons.

Peace be to Martin’s memory!