A Wild Faith
I want a wild faith
I want to be like the trees
Who submit To the cycle of the seasons
Subject to the way the wind blows
Living out the rhythm of resurrection
Following in the footsteps of Jesus
With roots deep in a foundation not easily shaken
I want to be like the trees
Who, when they fall, do not despair
Instead, giving up themselves
For the rest of this wild and messy church
Returning to the earth from which they came
I want a wild faith
A faith with a purpose in every type of weather
A faith that is rugged, worn, and windswept
That finds a way to grow,
Even if knotted and gnarled
I want a faith that is wise, restless, and ready
Ready to take its place in creation
Ready to greet revelation
Ready to meet God

Epiphany
A light
Brighter than the stars in the night sky
Illumines my soul
I am brought low
By the mercy You bestow on me
I worship thee
For you pour out love like liquid rays
From the sun, cascading
Emanating joy
So deep I feel it in my belly
Hell hath no power over me
I am free from my fear
You cast shadow on my doubt
I cry out
In praise of You
And the grace declared
In this Epiphany
You are Christ
And I am whole

The Beginning of Desire
An unidentifiable tugging in the centre of my chest
An inaccessible yearning in the centre of my mind
An intangible something that leads me toward a new way of being
What does my soul want?
What makes it restless during the mundane moments?
What invites stillness when nothing else has slowed?
That is the beginning of desire
The instant when you recognize God as imminent and transcendent
And ask Him to heal you from the inside out

The post Four Poems of Faith appeared first on Anglican Life.

Surrounded by a silence
that only a stone Cathedral encapsulates

we hear music.

The rhythmic clink and clank and rattle from the loops as the tenor wind
shakes the scaffolding tarp like an ancient sail.

The whistles and hisses and hums and staccato clicking beat as the

dusty radiators warm the Nave. The woosh and crash and bang as the icy crusty snow drifts slide

from the slate roof.

We are not distracted by the melody
only inspired this morning by the anthem.

February 22, 2023 E.B. Reid

Tracks

Sometimes the road we travel
has not yet been cleared for us,
has not yet been cleaned of snow,
has not yet been been sanded and salted and is not bare and smooth. And the wind is cold these days and ice pellets sting our cheeks and we wish for Sun
and crave the smell of sunscreen. But we are thankful
that the treads of our boots
and the grooves of our foot falls are not worn down
as we trek every morning
up that snow crusted hill.

February 22, 2023 E.B. Reid

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On sticky hot July afternoons
I shall be seated  on a chilled pew
in a vacant and cooled nave
and I shall reflect on things bigger than me.

On August evenings, I shall look high towards
the sky, aghast by all that I can not see and
affirmed by all that I do see and I shall feel small.

On breezy September afternoons
I shall tread lightly amongst old weathered grave stones
and follow an overgrown trail to visit
and pray with those who will never know my name.

And perhaps, I may even, go to Church.

                    E.B. Reid.   May 1, 2022

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What about changing places? Places to live, places to play games or music, place to sit at the kitchen.

Growing up we sat in our own place to eat.

Have you ever tried “sit where you like”?

We have started sitting where we want in church but seats get used by the same people every Sunday. It’s not easy to change your place…try it, be brave and see what happens. Sometimes we are accepted; sometimes we get an odd look. 

What about putting things in the proper place…in boxes, on a shelf, in an envelope, in folders.

And in sewing, right sides together most of the time.

What about being “put in one’s place?” Does anyone have the right to carry that through? What emotions erupt?

Places need to be found 

…for people who are hard to love

…for kindness amid strife 

…for joy amid stress

…for things too good to toss

Places need to be found for my treasures now that it is time to downsize. Is it time to give now, the items listed in your will? One would see the joy of the person who received the gift. 

A resting place must be found for my ashes and my last wishes. 

Places can provide

…peace

…a spot for a rocking chair 

…a quiet time

…a spot in my heart for a new friend 

What will fill the place left after loosing a friend?

For a tidy home, a good work area, or a peaceful mind, one must find a place. 

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