Emmanuel

treasures old –
i lay out my treasures old and (i)
count them to remember:
a shepherd’s handhold, a hug from a father not my own
words that sing out truth
and experience and
years of being with the great Shepherd;
words that draw gentle cords around me
and gives me rest in
alacrity.

treasures old –
realisation, and the knitting of souls
between two who are not one:
can i take it on behalf of?
but it is not yours to take
and love is sometimes give and pray
and only in the echoes of that stillness of night
is there that song
that envelope
of a light that yet fights.

treasures old
of glass’s shards
on and on and on
whose practice comes in minute words
and pages long
of precise concise revised
lines
falling
on pages long
in a heap that reaches up
and trips
into sentences of argument fleshing thought.

even that sharp, sharp pain of
a single night and those after
of a stillness so solid
it silently sticks.

it is a treasure to count
and see how each gold piece glimmers
because of the flame.
it is a treasure to hope
to look ahead and see
nothing
because He is so big who is before us.
it is a treasure to find
the heart here
exactly where the treasure is,
old and new,
behind and before,
and in the pearl-chain of tears
see the image of a rainbow again,
the bow of a present help,
of the Shepherd who is here
with me.

At the turn of

It’s a strange thing to me, thinking about crossing into a new year. Time has always fascinated me, and in 2007 especially, i’ve been thinking about what we do to time and what it does to us…the materiality of time and the ungraspable quality of it. So what does it mean to cross into a new year? It’s another aspect of that relentless passing of time, and another instance of the attempt to grab hold of it in whatever tangible way we can.

But looking into the new year is a happy thing to do, especially when we look back and see the many good things God has done. After we get beyond a certain age, or maybe a certain “level” of experiences, we probably learn to see “good” as not smooth-sailing, but well-reconciled. In that way, yes, 2007 was a good year. Not all reconciled, but certainly as reconciled as possible, and well.

What instances do i remember? All are tearful nights, i realise, and not all were my tears.

That tearful night on the second day of Chinese New Year, with desperate prayers for the Lord to calm, keep, and comfort. And He did.

Those many nights of learning reality, of talking into the morning, of thinking through, exploring possibilities, listening, of experiencing in some way that same hurt…many nights of tears, and wondering along the way if i’ve done alright, turning into many many prayers that still continue to give me hope.

That tearful time of finding out how different people can be in different places and under different circumstances, that wondering why i never thought of it, that saying goodbye and keeping in touch, that continuing to try and see good of it.

That one night, after putting down the phone, that the possibility hit me again and i went to the Lord with the same questions, same plea, same desperation, same tears. And the answer came not as i initially hoped for, but in a way that brought peace and a quiet knowledge of having seen something that i need, of His being here with me, of it being okay.

Those many days and nights of tears from many people, that stoicism, the songs, the Word, the prayers, the being with, the slowly getting used to, the translation into an ever more fervent desire to learn well and serve well, to play my part, to fulfil my little part in His perfect plan.

That one night of tears that were misunderstood…not because of work nor of fear, but really of a sense of loneliness that i’ve been fighting against. But finally realising too that it’s alright, that the next day is new and good again, and of learning how to be alone, and still happy.

What a teary year. And yet each episode had borne a lesson that adds to the stuff i’m made of, and at the end of it all, i remember love. If nothing else, love that i learnt through hugs, through special words, through seemingly casual acts, through laughter and through that beautiful passing of time.

This which we label 2008, what will it turn out to be? The wheels are already rolling, and the hand ticking, and the year is turning. Where there is futility, there is also hope; so let there be light.