Clinic day

Swimming through things today at the clinic.  

It is the clinic day

The week before Christmas

Mere days after so many things

My head swims

In the fluorescent lighting

Blue walls

My mouth opens and shuts

Fish bubbles

Rise up

Pop.

I look for food

Sprinkled on the surface.

I swim.

Blue walls

Fluorescent lights

Clinic day.

Reordering

I have a sense of things being reordered.  I wonder whether the new order will look like the old.  It is Advent 3.  We are always beginning again.  Sometimes we are oblivious to the fact.  Sometimes it hits us in the solar plexus.  Sometimes we take the instructions out of the kitchen drawer, unfold them, and consider the pieces.

I watch the world

As it strives

To reorder itself.

Tab A

Into

Slot B.

This end up.

This end down.

Instructions put away

In the kitchen drawer

Are taken out again,

Unfolded,

Wrinkles smoothed,

Laid on the dining room table,

Perused.

Tab A

Into

Slot B.

This is the top.

This is the bottom.

Find the sides that hold

The bottom to top.

Read the instructions

Again.

Tab A

Into

Slot B.

This is another day

Another prayer resource from the 1979 Book of Common Prayer.  It is found hidden away in the additional prayer section.  I remember a seminary classmate pointing it out years ago, talking about how useful it had been in her hospital Clinical Pastoral Education the previous summer.  

In the midst of illness and grief and tragedy, whatever we do in these times, let us do them consciously, and with the Spirit of Jesus:

This is another day, O LORD, I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready LORD, for whatever it will be. If I am to stand up, Help me to stand bravely. If I am to sit still, Help me to sit quietly. If I am to lie low, Help me to do it patiently. And if I am to do nothing, Let me do it gallantly. Make these words more than words, and Give me the Spirit of Jesus, Amen.~From The Book of Common Prayer (1979)

Keep watch

There is a prayer in the service of Compline (bedtime prayers) in the Book of Common Prayer.  It is one of the prayers I used to pray with my children while putting them to bed.  I still say it when putting myself to bed, particularly when a whole host of tragedy seems to have taken charge.  Here is the prayer:

Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep.
Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.

And my prayer:

Keep watch, dear Lord,

Every time we are reminded:

Grief and loss and tragedy prevail.

Keep watch, dear Lord,

When the ground heaves and swells

And we

Heave and swell

With it.

Keep watch

When skies open up,

Raindrops pour down

Like oh so many tears.

Keep watch

Keep watch

Oh please

Keep watching

When blows to the safety

Of those we love,

Blows to the safety

Of those we have yet

To love

Rain down.

Keep watch while we aim

To catch our breath,

And then

To know

What*s next.

Snow Ptarmigan

I retrieve birds

In my sleep.

Some are whole memories,

Most are partial at best.

At two and three and four in the morning

The snow ptarmigan

Comes to mind

In winter plumage.

It hides in the snow.

I can barely see

Its outline.

There are birds

In my sleep,

Whole birds,

Birds I have never seen

When I am awake.

They remind me of their presence

So I can find them in the bird book
When I wake.

This side of the Divide

After Diocesan Convention I received an email from my friend, Sam Portaro.  He welcomed me to the .rank of senior priest.  This side of the Divide, it makes sense.  Thank you, Sam, for naming it.

Before Advent began

A dear friend wrote to me.

He told me I have entered the rank

Of Senior Priest.

He told me John the Baptist

Is our patron saint,

The very one who incarnated the truth:

We must decrease

In order that others

May increase.

It was a missive

Of welcome.

This side of the Divide

It makes sense.

I picture John

Cartwheeling in Elizabeth*s womb

Before he was born.

I picture John

Cartwheeling

On the banks

of the Jordan River

After a breakfast of bugs and honey

Waiting to decrease

After the One who must increase

Has arrived

To take his place.

This side of the Divide

It makes

A particular kind of sense.

This too will pass

Often I find myself counseling someone who is anxious.  I am no stranger to anxiety.  Often I need to take my own advice.  Sometimes I even do.

I remind people every day

This too will pass.

Take a breath

Find a quiet place

Shut the door.

This too will pass.

I remind myself

Again and again,

Particularly now,

This too will pass.

Breathe.

Find a quiet place

Shut the door.

Post the sign that says

In session;

Pull down the shade.

No one has to know

I am in session

With myself.

God listens with every breath

I take.

No money changes hands.

God does not charge

A fee.