Lisa and I bore fruitless until late in life,
Wondering were we physically broken
Or spiritually barren?
A pastor, son, and grandson of pastors,
I felt I was losing faith.
In prayer one day, as luck would have it,
I heard the voice of God,
As clear as crystal and large as Imax,
“I am real,” he convicted,
“You don’t understand.”
When she announced her expectations
Most were fearful
I was speechless;
What further pain?
Nine months later, he was born.
We named him Jon, the greatest man,
I always thought, for though anointed,
He always pointed, to David,
His rival and best friend.
When he’s your only
Child and future, how it pains,
His rants and raves, his rejection
Of priestly line to leave his home
And live on streets.
He grows his hair,
Like Beatles or Marley,
Eats naught but natural,
And wears organic.
At least he doesn’t do drugs.
Was it our God he forsook
To rail against the government?
Or rather does he pave the way
For deeper spirituality,
More intimate theology?
Our greater fears have given birth,
He finds himself imprisoned
By those he tried to help.
In Horrid’s dungeon words he shouts,
Forgoes that shush to save his life.
If he ignores the powers that be,
I fear he may lose his head.
[The poem is a mystery; can you figure out the clues to who it is?]
God still speaks today, words of grace and peace, awe and guidance; but words. He wants us to learn to recognize his voice when we drive to work, wait in line, and engage in prayer.
To grow in that divine dialogue, please watch the video bel0w (It’s Not that God Is Silent), and read, Hearing God in Conversation.
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Nickolas H Hiemstra
Yep, despite the ridicule VP Pence has experienced, the Lord does speak. And when He does, He brings hope, encouragement, and redemption. Thank you for sharing this,
Creative, witty, insightful! Awesome approach to today’s blog!
I don’t understand. I’m crying. Today is the birthday of the son that drowned 27 years ago, buried in Colorado. God has carried us and supported us; we speak a lot because Grace and peace are with us, but there’s still these deep dark moments when the grief hits.
I really don’t understand what this poem says but I know that it’s pierced me. I’m having one of those rare days when Griffin depression is here and I’m on the verge of tears; then I read your poem and I can’t stop crying.
Usually I walk strong in faith, in hope of future Redemption, and trust in daily sovereignty, but today I just remember the pain of losing a son and fear of losing another in a different way.
Candace S Weber
I have been asking God to “make me more real”. Thanks Sam for giving us something so real to read together. The Lord has given us clarity on many basic and essential things. But then there is all this mystery and pain and beauty that we simply have to trust Him with.
Robin L. Lewis
A gripping posts!
A bit confusing at first, especially with the contemporary photo and “on the streets” used to describe his sandy abode. But “speechless” was the key for me. The guy got wet a lot, too.
These are all the things that John the Baptists father experienced and we do to as parents too. Leaving our children in God’s hands and his grace is something parents find hard, but must trust To His eternal plan when children seem to be outside the faith. I know we all know this with our heads, and find it hard to apply it with our hearts. Thanks for the encouragement.
Monica Koldyke Miller
Well written. Could have been written about someone in this generation. The “Author” was John the Baptist’s father. There were clues all along the way!
Just did a study on him. He ain’t no anointed one nor Elijah nor the prophet. He loves descending doves, cause it reveals the true Boss.