I can only clean up your dirt,
If you give it to me.
Is it pride that stands in your way?
Think, then, of the filth in which you wallow.
Being prostrate in repentance,
Is in reality a rising,
A lifting of your head,
A step up, my man!
Really now, how proud can a man be,
Who is chained to his sin,
A slave in bondage to habit,
Following the crowd?
Mire and muck,
What trappings are these,
But for a prince of fools?
Fall on your knees to stand up!
Lord make this useless beggar useful.
Like the returning Prodigal
Nothing recommends me,
And everyone but You
Condemns me,
For my rags declare my misery.
You see me
But You do not turn away.
You rush to my side,
And embrace the little one
Who wanders from Your side.
I am to You
The lost and longed for
Child of Your Heart.
My provident possibility
Is all but destiny
Awaiting my “Amen”.
You draw the bath Yourself.
You allow Your angels the joy
Of tending to my wounds.
They touch me in consolation
As they once ministered strength
To You in the garden,
For they beheld me then in Your Holy Agony.
I am the child of Your sorrow
And Your glory.
Wash me and lovingly dress me
In Your robes of holiness and light.
You are creating me even now
While You gaze on me
For I am all “Yes”.
Your kindness and Your gentleness
Convince me beyond doubt.
I yield to You my sinfulness.
Every moment in Your Presence is grace-filled.
I have but to stretch out my hand
That You might place Your ring on my finger,
Put forth my feet to see them shod for
The journey to Your house.
I walk now in Your Kingdom,
For Your Presence makes light my steps
And sure the Way.
In Your embrace I find that I can dance merrily,
For the mysterious steps
Seem to come quite naturally
As long as I follow Your gentle persuasions.
Dance on my Father,
My Friend, my King, my All.
In Your arms I have found myself.
I have become Onesimus.
My Lord, my Love,
Turning to you,
I meet Your gaze.
Your eyes never stray
From your child.
Since my conception,
That awesome moment,
You have kept
Careful watch over me.
Through fleeting years,
You have guarded me,
As the apple of Your eye.
Your angels await my prayers.
I part my lips,
Pronouncing Your Name,
And they are at alert.
“Thy Kingdom come”
A flurry of wings
Break the silence.
“Thy Will be done. “
The brightness of electrum
Pervades the air.
“Give us this day
Our daily bread.”
Shining beings glow white-hot,
Wings unfurl.
Soaring heavenward
To the throne of God,
Weightless spirits
Obtain my abundance,
In measure overflowing.
Depending on You,
For even my gratitude,
I rejoice,
For the Sun rises
Each day in my heart.
Searching for You,
I find Your trail,
There is food on the table
And horses in the stall,
My children, too, are clothed,
And I am adorned in virtue,
Protected by humility.
What have I,
You have not given me?
Though I spend myself in labor,
My vigor, I have not exhausted.
Though, I fall into bed at night,
I look back on a day,
Lived in Your Presence.
Now, I recognize Your disguise.
I find You in the dawn.
Announced by bird song.
Heralded in my children’s cries.
“Tie my shoes,”
I hear You say.
Hope sends out new shoots,
As I find my strength refreshed
By your calm streams.
My duty awaits me,
And I am Your steward.
Drawing from coffers
That may appear empty,
They are, none-the-less,
Full of opportunity,
As Your poor
Are always with us,
Depending on You,
And, You, on me.
You no longer hide.
You await me in the voiceless.
Your vessels of helplessness
Beckon me.
“Come!”
Your Cross surrounds me,
As I find myself
Nailed to the society of men.
The blood of Adam fills my veins,
But, so too,
The Blood of Christ.
As I expend myself
On family and neighbor,
You are fed and clothed
In your hunger and nakedness.
As I lift my voice in song,
The high heavens resound,
Echoing Your Name.
My Jesus, You, fill the Universe,
For need and the Promise of Plenty,
Are all about me,
And I am Church,
Throbbing with Your Blood,
Beating with Your Heart.
Be Holy! 