The Power of Obedience

11/26/23

Walls cast shadows.

Light gets through

the cracks of the day:

 

Moments of obedience.

Moments of faith.

Moments that define us.

Moments of grace.

 

The power of obedience

is the paradox of eternity

packed tightly into grape clusters

that burst into time and space.

 

Not your Precious Moments figurines

but sleep-deprived warriors

with holsters for concealer and coffee.

Quick on the draw to conceal lines on their face

and savor the passing whiff of a fresh pot percolate.

 

Single moms

in carpool lanes

schlepping kids

to practices, appointments,

rehearsals and games

in minivans well spent

that all smell the same—

sour milk stained into the fabric of motherhood.

 

Or perhaps your pasture is greener,

maybe it’s filled with rocks,

perhaps you’re low on the totem pole

hiding money in socks

or maybe you’re just misunderstood.

 

It makes no difference,

we’re all called to bend a knee

in order to stand,

carving out time,

craving real intimacy.

 

Time waits for no one

yet we seize the day.

 

An hour,

five minutes,

whatever we can spare

proves we’re soldiers

in God’s army,

an infantry

interlocking fingers of faith

when we pray.

 

Every day is a battle,

a pinprick or gushing wound

from the crossfire of bullets,

 

an infirmary of minutes,

bandages on the hour,

 

calluses on disciplined minds,

mending papercuts on hearts

that turn the page of time.

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