Paul, You Called Me

You called me awake from daytime’s slumbers’ sleep
Battle weary, tired from the sequencing failures creep
Against all odds, you helped crush its planned success
Down near the bottom shelf of hope and endlessness

From the moment I awoke, I held onto my Crucifix
Prayer was dry, nothing found in rote words aerobics
Feedback had left again, cycled back to begin at start
Yet, the past is not forgotten, love always in my heart

I knew Christ would not abandon, great pain to endure
My thumb stroked the metal form, a key to my savior
You heard my cries for help inside the desperate call
To ground me instead to pray with the thorns of Paul

Here I saw no shame in what I asked; cure their wound
The mark felt of not knowing if a soul is left marooned
Fresh air called between the miles, faith closed the gap
My burden lightened, the glass half full, no time to nap


I was praying at my office desk deeply concerned about where the economy was taking my company. I had a deep illumination which is best described by its fruit.  I had to go outside to catch my breath, as even a hint of creation’s green focuses me. As I thought about what had happened in that moment, I realized that my grief and concern were not even close to the “Pauls” of the world.  They wear barbed thorns difficult to extract. We must work hard to help them in kindness and with our prayers, no matter the distance in time or space.

For further reflection: 2 Corinthians 12