Where did that boy go
who with the crew cut and goofy glasses
looked out on the world so long ago?
where did that person go
who dreamed big dreams
and thought he could be anything he wanted
and that life would be easy
who thought that the good people won
and that evil was defeated
always
where did that one go who
so easily accepted the version of God
so blithely presented by his church?
how did it all get so complicated
and tortured?
it has not been a bad life
it has not been an easy life either (although to some it
may look to be so)
I have my issues, my flaws
at times it feels as if my weaknesses cancel out my
strengths
my mistakes invalidate my accomplishments
I am not who I thought I was
looking out so long ago
the world is not what I thought it was
God is not who I thought God was
and it is OK
I was thinking about the church year
Advent and Christmas, and those high holy days
of white
baby Jesus, the manger, magicians and stars
of Lent with is purple solemnity,
and Eastertide
with those huge pivotal moments
Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday
the vigil
Easter (white again)
And of Pentecost
our bright day of fiery red
those moments capture the imagination
and fire up our hearts
but now we are in “ordinary” time
almost half a year of unrelenting green
with no moments of high celebration
just the ordinary
the plodding along
tending the garden, pulling weeds
doing the mundane
ordinary
and I realize this is where life is
in the ordinary
this is where faith lives
in the ordinary
this is where Sacred dwells
in the ordinary
in the flawed and cracked adult
who no longer bright visage
and with eyes no longer quite as bright
who plods through each day
living out the Imago Dei
as best he can
knowing that even in this
messy, ordinary, daily existence
God is
and that there is a reason
even if I do not know what it is
for getting up in the morning
and welcoming another day
another week
it does no good to look back
at the good or the bad
no one who puts his or her hand to the plow
and looks back get anywhere
and so this morning
it is time to be again
that young soul
looking expectantly at the world
eager for what life will bring
Jesus once said, the kingdom belongs to the children
I suspect God wants us to be like children
those in whom the image has not been dulled
God want us to be eternal children
twisted, battered, grey, aching young ones
perhaps those with a long road behind
and a short road ahead
but still children
in whom, when God looks at them
God can still recognize God’s self in them
---------------------------------
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Open, all of you little old people!
It is I your God, eternal, risen from the dead, coming to
Bring back to life the child in you.
Michel
Quoist (Prayers)
