Friday, August 7, 2009

The Wish Wand

This week I have had the privilege of hearing part of a series by Jill Briscoe. Yesterday, used the following poem in an illustration as she spoke about the book of Jeremiah. She writes beautifully.

The Wish Wand

I had a little wish wand and waved it to and fro
Whenever thoughts turned heavenward
or the other place you go.
I thought it safe to trust it with my whole eternal soul
so I wished the life I’d lived on earth
would get me to my goal.

I wished that all would get to heaven
whatever they believed
that Buddha sat at God’s right hand
that New Age be received.
I wished that Paul would change his mind
that Jesus wasn’t right
because He spoke of lostness and a
dark eternal night;
about the way to heaven
one truth, one narrow gate, and
I was so broadminded that I wished away my fate!

So I waved my little wish wand
in the radiant face of Him
who met me at the gate of heaven and wouldn’t let me in.
I wrote to heaven’s congressman,
but he courteously replied that I should have
left my wish wand at the feet of Him who died!
For wishes could not wish away a lifetime of rejection,
and wishes could not dress my soul
in heaven’s own perfection.
And wishes could not save me now
for hell was so obscene,
that wishes there die ghastly deaths,
strangled with a scream.

So I took my little wish wand
into hell the day I died,
and I waved it at the serpent as he
slithered to my side.
It was dark but I could see him
and all I knew was fear,
and no matter how I waved my wand
he wouldn’t disappear!
Oh I wish that I had wished aright
I wished I lived again

I wished I had a body that
was whole, not racked with pain.
I wished I could remember
something other than the dirt.
I wished I could forget my sin.
So every memory hurt.
Oh, I wished and wished and wished
that I could have another chance
to cast upon the Crucified
a trusting, saving glance.

But the devil took my wish wand
and he laughed right in my face
and I went to live eternally in
darkness and disgrace,
I never wished a wish again
I had no heart to try
for hell is where hope ended, and where all my wishes died!

By Jill Brisco, in her book Heaven and Hell

Monday, March 9, 2009

The Mulch Pile.

So... it's not that I haven't been showering (I still shower daily). I have just been distracted. The following thoughts come from an afternoon of mulch-pile-moving...

..."I can't take it anymore. The mulch pile has got to go." (I moved recently... yes, again... and there was a giant mulch pile that was dumped outside my front window.)...

..."Wow, I really miss working outside. I love this..."

..."I am getting really freaking tired..."

...[to the mulch pile] "I will demolish you. Oh boy, I spend too much time with Bradshaws..."

..."I really need to fix that light switch in my closet..."

..."I never want to look at mulch again..."