Liquid Prayer

When two or more hearts beat in rhythm,

hope from the ocean's depth

defies gravity and pulses skyward,

seeking to be free.

The eyes have an escape route built-in -

thank you very much, God -

an aqueduct for release.

Those who've experienced

the true strength of Love's

vulnerability know better than

to struggle against the flow.

Instead, we simply pause

to revel in the power of their salty gift,

trusting in divine Grace

to unpack every scared and sacred plea.

 

Painting of Camp NaCoMe bridge by Ruben Torres

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

How Dare You!

Polite society cringes

when someone dares

to hurl this exclamation

toward the heavens.

It's not that anger

is taboo or unexpected.

On the contrary; rage unleashed

on the road or anywhere else

is standard fare in our culture.

But it is mostly aimed at others,

as lesser beings bearing responsibility

for our own unhappiness,

or even occasionally,

in our bravest moments,

at the mirror of our naked selves.

What those on faith's periphery

cannot fathom is the way

that such expression unveils

a deep and abiding trust

in a God not only strong enough

to accept such heat, but also

loving enough to hold us in,

through, and beyond the fire.

We call it grace – this wave

of unconditional mercy

that pours on all creation

like an ever flowing stream,

inviting us to risk self-forgiveness

before letting its flow continue

into lives all around us.

 

Photo by Holly Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

I Believe

Belief is not something

you defend while you wait

for the world to change or acquiesce.

It's not even something

that changes you.

It is the intellectual sum

of the actions you've already taken,

the questions with which you're wrestling,

and the relationships you're nurturing.

When your beliefs stop changing

and growing, so do you.

If this happens, no matter what else

you think you're doing,

you're mostly just waiting to die.

 

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Decorated

Photo by Todd Jenkins

It's painfully ironic that we use

the same word to describe

the delicate and often fru-fru trappings

of our everyday excess and eccentricity

that we use to identify both

the survivors of war's carnage

and our remembrance and honoring

of their final resting places.

May our decorating of the graves

of our decorated ones awaken us

to the deep truth of both

our debt to them and their families,

as well as our desperate need

to find our collective way

to a path decorated by Peace.

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Unexamined

Can we not dig below the surface

of our reverence for the men and women,

boys and girls who offer their hearts, lives,

and give up so much else to wear the uniform

and wield our nation's weapons of war?

Surely, a significant portion of that

lumped throat and trickling tear

comes from our amazement

at the courage welling up

in ordinary folk; from our respect

for service that sets aside self;

from the realization that battle

and all of its wicked cousins

accelerate the odds for mortality,

and those who volunteer to serve

are human barriers for our comfort zones.  

Safely tucked beneath that appreciation

lies another gut-wrenching:

the often-unconscious conviction

that armed conflict is not the solution;

the realization that there may

one day be a final war,

but it won't be the result

of a war to end all wars.

The universe's truth is that violence

cannot and will not end itself.

Even physics supports this premise.

This shadow emotion may be

the only hope to lead us along a path

to peace that has not been

irreparably rutted by war's machine. 

Photo by Mary Dumas Sgarlato

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Aim

"Ready, fire, aim!" is the way

we most often activate

the diffractor beam of our anger,

raging against others, and

occasionally, self, all the while

missing both the point and the mark.

"All forgiveness begins

with self-forgiveness." she whispers;

and the god against whom

I'm actually intending to aim

is no god at all, but only

the undeveloped negative

of an image from when I let

someone else hold

my camera years ago.

Anxiety and her trust-busting sister,

Fear, are the ones trying

to throw up the boomerang shield,

which only keeps the hate circulating.

Ego, who fantasizes that he's

from an alternate gene pool,

believes he can harmlessly

and heroically absorb it all like

a nuclear waste storage facility.

Meanwhile, Grace sits on the porch,

patiently waiting for us

to unlock the deadbolt;

just dying to transform us

into the transparent beings

for which we've been blueprinted,

so that pain passes through,

whether self-inflicted or otherwise,

leaving us whole and unscathed,

and others are free to answer

Grace at their own door.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Creation's Oath

How long will you squander

your precious time and energy

trying to fit yourself into

the imagined mold of divine perfection?

Jesus' earthly sojourn was

as a human; fully as a human.

Incarnation is not a blueprint

for transforming imperfect humans

into faultless heavenly beings.

It is an invitation to fully experience

the joy of humanity

for which we were created.

In that primordial order,

perfection comes from completely

embracing our creatureliness.

Peace and harmony come

when we all figure out

that joy arrives with living

as our true selves,

our whole true selves,

and nothing but our true selves,

so help us God.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Fox Holes

What if there are no atheists

in the paths of tornadoes,

like there are none in war's fox holes;

all of us "praying away",

instead of "praying up" a storm?

Then, God doesn't have to choose sides

or conduct evaluations to determine

whose prayer wins the essay contest,

and the storm is free to follow

her own wild and stubborn path,

like she was going to anyway;

and we all – survivors, victims,

and friends alike – can cling

to the divine promise of presence,

no one having to believe

that grace wasn't big enough

to cover them or their loved ones,

because it's far larger than that.

Photo by Owen Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Change

It’s funny how the church

is so averse to it, and yet it is

the fundamental purpose of prayer.

Then again, prayer opens up

the possibility for ANYTHING to change,

which turns out to mostly be us.

Once we realize that prayer

is really about transformation,

it's too late to take back

all those we’ve offered,

but it's never too late

to offer some more.

Photo by Lee Lindsey McKinney

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Reflective

(Genesis 1:27)

Photo by Lee Lindsey McKinney

Teach us how to be

less reactive,

more reflective;

relinquishing the reflex

of immediate response

and the volatile emotion

fueling flash-fire,

scorching innocent bystanders;

steeping ourselves, instead,

in the leaves of your image,

mirroring love, wisdom, compassion

for all the world to see and share.

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Calling

Loaf and cup call your name,

pleading for you to become

one with something larger than self,

something that both precedes you

and will far outlast you.

Give up the small self

that knows and controls,

but also hides and fears.

Receive the bread and wine

that pull you into both

your own pain and suffering

and the world's, but also

bid your fractured shards to rise

into the family of faith,

to both eat and drink grace

and become food for those

whose brokenness dares

to come out of hiding

in the presence of yours.

Yes, rise by dying,

not on your own terms,

but those of Love, because

it is the only path to resurrection,

the shared hope for all of creation.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

 © 2014 Todd Jenkins