It’s a day
to pause and ponder
grave reminders
that call to mind
those who
lost their lives
that our freedom
might be found.
Monuments
that speak of sacrifice
(both large and small)
help us to recall
the currency of loyalty
used to purchase
that which we
too often take for granted.
And so today
we honor the memory
of those
who shed their blood
while waging war
to win our peace.
A painter with words,
an artist with paint,
The Reverend Randy Klassen
brought truth to life.
He transformed an easel
into a pulpit
by dipping his brush
into the colors of God’s grace.
In the process,
he conveyed the beauty
of the Father’s love
for which His children instinctively hope.
Randy’s “Child at the Church Door”
has hung above my desk
for forty years.
It captured my sense of wonder when,
as a young pastor,
I stood at the threshold of mystery
Sunday after Sunday
where earth
and Heaven meet.
That child was me.
Opening that door
was my sacred honor.
The image bearer
who reminded me
of my call
was my friend Randy.
Peace to his memory!
Whether the weather is cold or it’s warm,
whether there’s sunshine or threats of a storm,
whether dark clouds or blue skies are the norm,
weather cannot be our god.
Whether you’re living with hope or with fear,
whether your vision is blurry or clear,
whether your kids prompt a smile or a tear,
you cannot do life on your own.
Whether your passion is work or it’s play,
whether the future seems sunny or gray,
whether the world is all wrong or okay,
you cannot but choose how you’ll live.
*This poem is based on a poem my Norwegian cousin Bjarne Birkeland shared with me in Norway in 2001.
“Whether the weather is cold or whether the weather is hot
we’ll weather the weather whatever the weather whether we like it or not.”
I’m thinking of my Norwegian family today. After all, today is May 17th (Syttende Mai) Norwegian Constitution Day.
On the eighth day of creation,
once the Lord God had His rest,
He created what (in retrospect)
we call His very best.
This new species He named mothers.
Adam’s better-half with child.
Grace incarnate, strong yet tender.
An oasis in the wild.
And the Lord equipped this species
with a sixth sense and a heart
that can break, but keep on loving,
when sweet kids become quite tart.
Mothers see both front and backwards.
They survive on little sleep.
And when life may hurt them deeply,
you will rarely see them weep.
They persist though feel like quitting.
They forgive before they’re asked.
They deny themselves routinely
rarely sidelined by a task.
When the Lord created mothers,
it was hardly just a whim.
His main purpose was to emulate
the love we find in Him.
There is a place I like to climb
where beauty gives me pause to rhyme
as I look down on old Luzern
and play with words I love.
It is a place from which I gaze
at sights that prompt my heart to praise
the One who’s left His fingerprints
for those who dust to find.
This is a place in my Luzern
where I reflect on what I’ve learned
from times like these when I take time
to still my mind and see.
My Rhymes and Reasons 