Life for
most may seem so routine,
Hardly ever
do we realise our need,
Then a
calamity changes the scene,
Suddenly comes ‘an event’ and we
bleed.
For when
the suffering comes,
Cling to Christ’s
weathered cross,
That, for
which our soul drums,
Because our God deals with our
dross.
When life
starts making sense,
An irony
has taken place,
Sitting
above the offence,
Is God’s grace-filled space.
Absorbing
the moment, not to deny,
Bracing
the soul to contend,
This is
the practice of favour to buy,
Of copious grace to access and
spend.
***
God’s grace is sufficient for any
and all encounters of evil.
Most times we’re hampered in our
response to the evils as they occur to us. Clinging to the cross is a way of
‘buying’ time in a grace-filled sanctuary—patience when we don’t know how to
respond. Delay without denial is imperative. That’s the practice of dwelling
courageously within our momentary pain.
Life won’t always be like this.
Better days do come.
Clinging to the cross at our
varying need is the skill and presence of wisdom; to access divine protection
for when life has become untenable.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.
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