In the Sheepfold

Isaiah 43:1

(“I Have Called You by Name”)

Oh, ’twas an unforgettable,
gorgeous, autumn day, and the
most important thing
to the petite shepherdess
was that she teach me of each
sheep the uniqueness of
their blessed name…

Creature

O Lord, You held me
cupped in Your hands, cradled
in Your arms. You made
me to tenderly lie against
Your bosom. You formed me and
shaped me until I was as
close to Your image and likeness
as a human creature could
become, and then You
looked into my face and
breathed my name, and like a
tiny mustard seed in
the womb You placed me –
into the innocent,
lush garden of an in utero,
warm enclave.^*

On Being Incarnate

And so from His poor birth
in a Bethlehem stable, He would come
to walk from dusty village to
village, or to be transported in rough
fishermen’s boats from one
bleak shore to the next, teaching
always about the messianic advent of
the Kingdom of God, all at the
same while His Father
was blowing galaxies and
trillions of stars from His almighty
palm to the far corners of an
incomprehensible cosmos, where
Jesus’ earthly redemptive act
could possibly also there apply – like
when the loaves and fishes
He amazingly multiplied, and
His salvation extended to
forms and natures of Creation
yet to be identified…

Grace

O my Lord,
You so easily peer into
my heart, winding Your way
deftly and knowingly through the darkened
corridors and staircases
and recesses of my soul –
and alas You find
me, on a slab in a drab
burial cloth, hidden
behind a hewn rock hitherto
unrolled – but just as in
the Garden of Eden when
You found Adam and Eve in leaves
aft their fall clothed, and
just as for Lazarus in
Bethany four-days aft his
death be told, You mercifully
summoned me forth,
and grace’s white raiment You
chose I wore.

Luke 6:29-30

("If Someone Takes Your Coat,
Let Him Have Your Shirt as Well")

Why would the soldiers
at the foot of His Cross have wanted
to cast lots for His cloak,^*
imprinted with bright-red blood and
sweat and sputum as it was?
It was as if Jesus allowed it,
even at the precipice and point of His
peering over the imminent
cliff of death, that His
one remaining garment be
parted from Him and shared by His
executioners for warmth.