Home

Papa looks for home.
He can’t seem to find it
even though he’s in it.
We show him pictures,
hoping this will help.
It usually doesn’t.
We take him to the old place.
There are vines, rotten boards.
Rusty saw blades.
A bench with no legs.
Distance in his eyes.
No rest. No rest at all.
Always wandering. Searching.
Never finding.
Nothing is sadder than this.
But Papa, dear Daddy,
Look at me (Lord, still my soul.).
Be with me. Take my hand.
(I’m trusting to the Unseen Hand.)
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul.
Let’s listen to the crickets.
You are my sunshine.
I never knew you danced so well.
In this quilt (Mama made it)
let me hold you.
Home is here. With me.
Home is in my eyes.
Home is.
Home.

(art by Lester E. Potts, Jr., an artist who had Alzheimer’s)

Baptism

When I came up out of the river

I saw Him standing there

like a white oak tree

with light in His leaves

and shaggy bark

thick and ancient

as a temple wall –

a champion with roots

to the center of the earth

stretching east and west.

I came up out of the water

fell on my face before Him

reached up to touch His bark and at once

everything green in me rooted and grew.

Wet by river water with mud on my knees

I wept and was held.

Sheltered in the shade

I looked up through His limbs

and saw a dove.

In the Heart

In the heart there is a garden,

in that garden a new grave.

Life departed grants a pardon;

Love the guilty came to save.

Primal beauty of creation

much more beautiful became

through the Gift of this Oblation,

through the Glory of this Name.

Where the tree of good and evil

cast its shadow on the ground,

now the cross of the Redeemer

lightens everything around.

Those who mourned are now rejoicing

in the rising of the Son;

from each heart, with praises voicing:

“Mercy triumphs. Love has won.”

Door of My Heart

Door of my heart,

bolted and battered,

over the threshold He waits,

gently He knocks…

Yield to His voice,

peaceful and loving;

wounded and welcome and true,

calling for you,

calling for you.

Come to this table and dine!

Come Lord, though meager my portion.

Yours is the Body, the Blood,

the bread and the wine.

You bid me, come as I am,

clothe me in garments from Heaven,

washed in this life-giving flow,

the Blood of the Lamb.

Door of my heart,

opened to Heaven,

welcome the Father, the Son,

Spirit of Truth.

Let in the Light

of your dear Savior,

Loving the darkness away,

welcome the Day…

Eternal Day.