Co-Incident

The words on your screen

(or page) are not really written

about you as much as they're about

what I've seen and felt

along the journey of life.

If they comfort or cut you or both,

it may be because you have

felt, heard, and seen things that,

though they're quite dissimilar,

have burned and illumined

you with the same fire and light.

Many years ago,

a regular at my doorstep

was a man who'd seen

more of his share of bad luck

and run-ins with the law.

One day, as he explained to me

why his most recent stint in jail

was quite longer than expected,

he described an altercation

with another prisoner

by the malapropism: coincidence.

Maybe co-incident, instead,

is an appropriate construct

to describe the way our lives intersect

along their spiritual journey;

an apt description of light and fire

from one’s path illuminating and warming others’;

how and why we're never quite

as alone or in the dark

as we might imagine.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Hurry Up and Wait

“Time is of the essence.”

Schedule and plan for treatment carefully

balanced between speed, accuracy;

agreed upon by consulting professionals,

plotted for patient, family, friends to follow. 

Operational risk deemed necessary,

surgical trauma’s recovery time measured,

monitored; maximum strength, recuperation

desired before next step can follow; 

and then insurance inserts its monkey wrench.

Hands of the clock, O Lord,

have been spinning out of control since

the first visit’s diagnosis erupted

into our lives, shattering all

previous measuring devices.

Time as chronology has become the new enemy,

upping the ante from wrinkles, creaking joints

to an all-in that is beyond our ability to cover;

minutes, hours, days, weeks, months threaten

to become obsessive-compulsive vortex.

Torturously second guessing ourselves,

squeezing all talismans in hopes of going

back in time to replay the scene;

frantically seeking a holy do-over,

begging the clock to cease its unpredictable palpitations.

Give ear, O God, to swirling chaos;

bring us a new understanding of time–

a measure of holy kairos:

clock of your love, grace, plan;

birthing in us the gift of your “right time.”

We don’t just need pie-in-the-sky

assurance of unimaginable glory beyond

our breathing; give us measuring gifts

for these days, scales by which

to compare our fear and pain

in the balance of your

mercy, forgiveness, wholeness.

Bring us to the place where we can touch

the in-the-flesh promise of Messiah:

one who pitched a tent in our yard,

not as temporary tuxedoed visitor,

but daily companion in the struggle.

Let us synchronize our watches

with the balm of Gilead’s tears;

give us a sense of the palpable presence

of the one whose healing flow washes

over all who cry out for help.

Photo by Katie Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Desert

I'm coming, more and more,

to the realization that the critical question

of faith is not, "What do I believe?"

but "Why do I believe it?"

Until we examine the "Why?"

we will never be able to see

all of the ways we are protecting

our own interests at the expense of others.

Truth is, most often,

found in the desert, because that's where

we either abandon one another in fear,

or cling to one another in hope.

Most of what passes for international relations

and interfaith dialog is fearful abandonment

with an illusion of extended hand.

Photo by Anna Kallschmidt

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Perfection

Lexus may be the pursuit of perfection,

but Love is more about the acceptance

and valuing of imperfection.

First, in yourself: the core of grace,

overflowing as God's gift

that’s self-applied; finally,

forwarded to all within your reach.

Comparison and score-keeping are

the path to total destruction;

imperfectly perfect, the way

of creation's grand design;

interaction and appreciation

the universe's modus operandi.

Live into the wonderment

that both your artwork and

your picture are on eternity's fridge,

not because of who you are,

or what you can do/have done

but because of who God is.

Artwork by Max Kallschmidt

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Free at Last

When it's a reward withheld

from all who either refuse to

or cannot protect us

from our fears,

sacrificing themselves as pawns,

by taking blame for the littered trail

of our relational carnage,

life becomes an angry progression

of bridge-burnings in which

we one day find ourselves

on the wrong side of the river

with no way to reach

those we need.

Love only blossoms when

it is unconditional gift,

shared not to turn a profit,

but to set others free

to reach their created purpose;

when ownership and responsibility

replace all excuses

for failure and estrangement,

offering paths to transformation.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Lover

More of who I am is what I’d like to give you,

not as if the me-ness of it makes it grand,

but because love– desire is its face–

drives me to know as I want to be known;

to risk the whole of who I am

in the comfort of your presence,

trusting you to hold my self-ness

dear and safe with tender care;

to hear, feel, taste ourselves let go

of all that frightens us about

who we are from skin to deepest deep,

reflecting God’s gift of unconditionality.

Photo by Jennie Jenkins

That’s my Valentine dream for us,

this day and this remaining lifetime.

Join me if you dare, and make appointment

to live and love and share forevermore.

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Home

Love always has 

home field advantage,

no matter where 

the game is played.

When it all seems long-over

and even the most loyal fans

have left the parking lot

and headed for what

they believe to be home,

Love comes up

 in the bottom of the ninth.

For some, it is the bottom

of the 18th or 23rd or even 50^th+.

No matter if the stands are empty

and even the announcers

have called it quits,

Love has a way of walking,

singling, and sacrificing

the game back to a tie,

until all opponents run out

of relievers and the winning run

crosses the plate.

Yeah, Love wins. Always.

 

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Freely

We're given life to be set free.

You be you and I'll be me.

If, in your you-ness, you find in me

a heart with which you want to be,

and in my me-ness I do declare

you're one for which I deeply care,

then may we bring our us-ness together,

being two-plus-one in love forever.

Photo by Holly Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Beyond

Love is a power for others.

If what you have makes you want

a special someone to live and act

in ways that please you,

it is not love.

If what you have makes you feel

warm and tingly, but does not

change the life of someone else

for the better, it is not love.

Love can't be kept to yourself;

it can't exist without making

other people's lives more hopeful,

more meaningful, more joyful.

It overflows to fill

empty places in the universe.

Photo by Cyndi Bagley

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Prayer Poet

The psalmists knew very well

how carefully loaded phrases

strung together in surprising ways

can be explosive in both

hopeful and dangerous ways;

how hurling guttural truth

toward the heavens changes

the world in ways we can

neither explain nor predict;

how leaving wide margins

of blank silence leaves room

for the other voice to speak.

The pieces that both come from

and travel to the deepest places

often begin with empty lines,

which represent the ways

we duct-tape the voices in our head

long enough to hear the one in our heart.

Those are the ones asking us

questions which most need answering;

questions that all creation asks daily;

questions that weave us into

the tapestry of history and hope.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins