Spiritual lessons from a capsized cruise ship;
A Race to Nome

Avoiding a Shipwrecked Faith
Spiritual lessons from a capsized cruise ship

Much like that grave ill-fated cruise
that captivates the evening news,
we run the risk of capsized faith
if we ignore God’s charts.

They point to what will do us in.
Those submerged boulders He calls sin.
The jagged crags of lust and greed
just cannot be ignored.

Yes, unseen rocks can tear a hole
and scar the lining of the soul.
The reef of sin will ruthlessly
destroy the joy we seek.

We’d best steer clear of Satan’s lies.
If not, we’re likely to capsize.
And shipwrecked faith is fraught with fear
and doubt that steals your hope.

A Race to Nome
A tag-team rescue then and now

In Nome in 1925
they wondered if they would survive.
A January shortage
found them scurrying for help.

Without a much-needed supply,
both old and young would surely die.
But just in time sled dogs came through
and serum reached the town.**

And now (as then) they prayed and hoped.
Without reserves, they’d never cope.
Another shortage (like before)
meant Nome was in the news.

In what seemed both absurd and cruel,
a Russian tanker had their fuel
but couldn’t ply the Bering Sea.
The ice was 8 feet thick.

So near and yet so far away!
The folks in Nome still hoped and prayed.
And as was true in ’25,
a tag-team raced ‘gainst time.

The Coast Guard’s Healy broke the ice
and paved a way that would suffice
to let the tanker fin’lly reach
the isolated town.

Through teamwork Nome received black gold
and now is brighter and less cold.
And as was true in ’25,
God answered just in time.

** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1925_serum_run_to_Nome

Calling out an uninvited guest at the family table;
Lessons From the Blender Lid

The New Year’s Day Visitor
Denouncing an uninvited guest at the family table

A stranger showed up unannounced
at brunch on New Years Day.
He sounded off (without respect)
when Grandpa tried to pray.

When Mom served up the cheese souffle
he said “Let’s play a game!”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Dad exclaimed.
“Excuse me. What’s your name?”

“I’m called a Smart Phone,” he replied.
“No doubt you’ve heard of me.
I Facebook, email and much more
as you can plainly see.”

‘I’ve heard of you,” my grandma said.
“But you’re not welcomed here.
Our family table’s sacrosanct.
It’s time you disappear.

“I’m sure you’re helpful Mr. Smart.
There’s so much you can do.
But this is not the time or place
to host the likes of you.”

Lessons from a Blender Lid*
How the Lord spoke to me on my morning walk

When it feels like life’s a blender
and you’re spun out of control,
don’t try to cap the chaos
(though that seems a worthy goal).

When you hold-in what you’re feeling
and refuse to let it out,
hope clogs and leaves you wondering
if your faith has turned to doubt.

Lift the lid on what concerns you
as you brace for what’s in store.
Let your stressful circumstances
catapult you toward the Lord.

* This past week while going on my three mile walk, I came across a black object discarded on the side of the road. As I stooped down and pick it up, I discovered it was a brand-new lid to a kitchen blender. Holding it in my hand, I pondered what to do with it. Should I leave it? Should I take it to the nearest trash bin? Should I take it home? At once an inner voice seemed to say, this object is a visual aid that communicates how I want you to deal with stressful circumstances in your life. Don’t put the lid on and hold your angst in. Uncap your stress and let it fly to me through prayer. I wrote this poem as a way of capturing the truth of this insight.