Saturday, December 27, 2008

Hope in the desert

We have noticed for quite a while that the CEO has had us in a kind of a desert. It has been a time of questioning and re-evaluating, of being separated, discarding things that have enslaved us and looking toward a new land or purpose. We do not know fully where we are headed, but have sensed the CEO's presence throughout and know that He is leading us and wooing us to Him as our hope and all.

In the spring, my mother asked me to paint for her a picture of a scene from Jamaica. I was surprised when I saw the picture. She was bursting with excitement over it and all I could see was a dead looking tree. I've been to Jamaica and know that it is full of exotic beauty, so why had she chosen this scene. I asked her why it had meaning to her and there were many depths of appeal for her, but some of it was the lilies with red stripes that only bloom at Easter- like it was a sign of Jesus' death and resurrection. She mentioned the mystery of the fog and the massive tree with fungus like plants growing from it. I then asked my aunt (the tree is in her yard) for the names of the tree and plants so that I could more accurately paint it. She told me that the tree looses all it's leaves right before it produces a huge crop of plum fruits. I was soon seeing that the CEO was speaking to my heart about the desert and the resurrection. Can you imagine those days when the Lover lay in the tomb and all hope was gone? The disciples had a thick fog over their understanding, just as we do as we go through the desert periods of our lives, not knowing what is going on, everything looks bleak, and yet, AND YET- the greatest period of fruitfulness, worldwide transformation was on the brink of occurring. The tree, the body of Christ seemed to be void of life, but there were hints, all of creation pointed to the fact that He was not completely dead. A great pulsing and activity was occurring in the heavenly realms, shielded from human eyes, but detectable to those who see by faith... the resurrection was yet to come and life would burst forth.

I wrote a poem to go along with the picture. Here they are:

Blind Sleep of Death

Apparently dead
To the innocent ignorants
Desperate tears
Drench the earth
The greatest of hopes
Buried deep
Under ground.

Falling
Like dry crumpled leaves
A thick fog
Envelops the mourners
Just like the heavy
Sadness that threatens
To suffocate them.

“Don’t give up”, says the blind man.
“Wait”.

Wild, uncultured
Reaching, fungal plants
Feast on the stagnant
Naked corps
A mockery to the greatness
Of an unquenchable life
Lying too still.

“Deceptively quiet”, says the blind man.

A sweet melodic fragrance
Rises up
Out of the mire
Swaying in a gentle breeze
Trumpeting the first hints
Of victory
While the mighty King lays dead.

“The kingdom advances”, says the blind man.

Blood and water
Poured out death
Drink deeply
Feast and live
Crimson red rivers
Streak the white burial shrouds
Delicate goblets of milk and wine.

“It is finished”, says the blind man.
“Wipe your tears”.

Pulsing, dripping, bursting
From the naked branches
Reaching high into the heavens
Big stretch, yawn
Ripe with life
Luscious fruit cascading through
The apparently dead laughing man.

Hog plum
Hog plum
Mombin death
Wild pine
Milk and wine
Bougainvillea

BREATH!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful!
Lil' sis