A real life

(Yeah, I write poetry too.)

There are times I question the whole thing
Is there a God
Was there ever
a real life
in which God was clothed
all earthly, vulnerable
in our human aloneness of being
What if Jesus never was

On the edge of that precipice
I am humbled
by one thought
I would rather be a fool
A companioned
saved
forgiven
believing
loved-beyond-all-measure
voluntary fool

Thanks be to God
for this life within a life
that Word made flesh
mundane and fragile
for which I am indeed
head-over-heels
hopelessly
happily foolish


Even though faith is a gift, it is also a choice. Most days I choose to hang full weight with the apparent insanity of faith. Like love I must choose, I must decide whether or not I will believe, whether or not I will love, forgive, serve, be the Word in flesh as best as I am able. Madeleine L'Engle once said, "I dare you to believe" because most people settle for religiosity. Having Jesus as your best friend is like inviting Gandhi over for a black tie steak dinner: you're going to have difficulty changing some things that you really don't want to, no matter how much you love the guy. At a young age my imagination was captured by stories of Jesus, and what can I say? He just got under my skin in such a way that now I feel his claim upon my life, a life that he saved in a very real way, by giving me a life within this life.