1.
Choose to let go, not
Impress, explain, and instead
Choose truth and peace
2.
Falling Upwards
Choose Christ and Renewal
Shed pride, self-reveal self
3. (A Psalm)
Take me God
Take my life
Make it what we planned together long ago
Make it mighty
Make it useful
Make it shine in small places
Make it spectacular
For an audience of one
Or none.
Just You
And me.
Painting by @jkirkrichards
1.
I find truth in some
But not in the whole of it
Yet still there is peace
2.
I find truth in part
A sanctuary and yet
I can’t return now
Continue reading “Temple Journey”Dogs pull and I think
Does God have me on a leash
Or do I run free?
In a sacred space
He cries and She holds him close
Enduring with Him
Her hand on my mind
It rests, accepts, soothes, directs
A hug and a nudge
1.
Oh Body of Christ
Let diversity help us
Increase our net space
2.
But church levels up
Smear the queer exclusion game
Tackle on repeat
3.
Jesus defender
Where is thy pavilion of
Expansive Zion
As conflicts arise
Gaze beyond church and behold
Mother Father God
As I pray to Her.
I reach for both, uniting
heart and mind and breath.
It’s been nine days since an apostle of my church spoke of what we don’t know about Mother in Heaven and said that we don’t pray to her. But I do. It’s been an expression of my faith for years now. There is a tension between personal revelation (me and God) and church revelation (the church and its leader), and I hold both as flexibly as I can. In the case of prayer, God wins.
2021, you were supreme in unexpected unfolding. I anticipated you with great joy, having endured the influence of Donald Trump (who should not be named) and hoping for new beginnings, a clean slate and a clean-up of lies, prejudice, and hubris. But you, 2021, you dragged The Donald in with you, like manure on your 2020 boot. However, my friend, despite the chaos on January 6, and the aftermath of applying consequences to grown-ass slippery eels like Greene, Gosar, Brooks, and Trump, I learned a few things while you were around.
Continue reading “2021: Farewell to You and Bring on 2022”
Mother,
breathing inward,
May I take one step forward?
Yes, you may.
Mother,
reaching outward,
May I take one giant leap?
Yes, you may.
Mother,
searching heaven and earth,
May I know You?
Tradition elbows my rib,
Serpentine history spins me around,
Vertiginous patriarchy pulls me from my place —
She grabs my hand,
Steadies my soul.
Excuse me, she warns the world,
Excuse me, she chides the church,
I’m speaking.
I feel Her mind
Gently on mine.
And yes, you may.
—- Lisa Phair Fluckiger 2.24.22
Art by Etta Kay
Inclusion. Joy. 