One Small Step

Contemplating the historic Apollo 11 mission to the moon

“That’s one small step,” Neil Armstong said
as we watched on TV.
And then we stepped outside and gazed
up at the moon to see
an orb of dust and rocks that glowed
much brighter than before.
For on that lunar surface stood
a flag and so much more.

Accomplishment! That’s what it was.
Two proud men standing tall.
Both Neil and Buzz had stood the test
and answered NASA’s call.
And after fifty years it seems
we need another goal
to unify our fractured land
and make our nation whole.

Creator God, who flung the stars
and planets into space,
we’re humbled by the universe
that dwarfs our puny place.
Remind us all what You have wrought
and how each plays its part
to bring about Your purposed plan
and rule our rebel hearts.

The Waiting Room

Experiencing the emotion of a mother’s last days

The waiting room is a lonely place
where I must face
my grownup childhood fears.
Surrounded by others,
I feel alone and nervous
about what’s to come.

It’s a gathering place
for family and friends
where memories are shared
and regrets embraced.
It’s where goodbyes are said
to someone who cannot return the farewell.

It’s a sacred place
where earth and heaven meet.
As faith and hope hold hands,
mortality gives way to immortality.
It’s where the mystery of eternal light
provides illumination amid the shadows
to approach God with confidence.
It’s holy ground.

The waiting room provides a front row seat
as the drama of life and death
is played out on the elevated stage of a hospice bed
while a loved one takes one last curtain call.

The waiting room is a difficult place to be.
But there is no place I would rather be.
It is an awesome privilege to shepherd this one
who escorted me into this world into the next.

Lord, give me grace for the journey
and the means to cherish
each remaining moment with my mom.

*The above was written as I observed my 92 year old mother living out the final days of her life in her room in a dementia facility after suffering a major stroke and being put on hospice.

Just Do It, Nike!

A call to stand up to Colin Kaepernick

So Betsy Ross must bear the cross
of Colin Kaepernick?
To rewrite history about our flag
quite simply makes me sick.

The thirteen stars meant colonies
and freedom from the Brits.
Those stars weren’t racist in the least.
This sends me into fits.

The fact that Nike bows the knee
to Kaeps’ insane demands
should be a cause for great concern
to our dear Uncle Sam.

The first flag of our infant land
remains a cherished one.
It chronicles our history
of freedom’s daring run.

So let’s not let a PC-biased
NFL QB
demand that Nike shuck its shoes
revising history.

Just do it, Nike! Take a stand.
Tell Kaep to take a hike.
Give Betsy Ross her just desserts.
Her flag’s okay to like.

https://www.chicagotribune.com/business/ct-biz-nike-kaepernick-betsy-ross-flag-20190703-53bqcmqhkzh7dad5dgvpcopkqi-53bqcmqhkzh7dad5dgvpcopkqi-story.html

Borderline Disaster

Haunted by the heartache of the migrant crisis

A father and his daughter dead.
Her arm wrapped ’round his neck.
The image breaks my heart and yours as well.
The crisis at our border
renders chaos by the day.
We must confront this senseless living hell.

Refugees and immigrants
head north with hopes and dreams
without regard for what our laws allow.
They long for freedoms we hold dear
denied them in their land.
They migrate just like cattle. Holy cow!

But we can’t simply let them in
without a plan in place.
The life they long for rests on laws and rules.
We must be firm, yet find a way
to honor those in need
while keeping out the criminals and fools.

The State of My Conflicted Heart

A prayer when life doesn’t rhyme

The state of the church finds me searching God’s Word
in light of our culture’s demands.
The state of the Presidency gives me cause
to question, to grumble, to pray.

The state of our union just doesn’t add up.
Divisions are multiplying.
United we claim, but we clearly are not.
It’s ugly. It’s dreadful. It’s wrong.

No wonder the spring in my step appears sprung.
No wonder my shoulders are stooped.
It seems that the song in my heart has been stilled.
I’m troubled. I’m anxious. I’m scared.

O Lord, calm the conflict that troubles my heart.
Ease the tension that strangles my soul.
Give me faith to believe that the future is bright.
I’m weary. I’m needy. I’m Yours.