A gentle reminder ...

The goal of this blog initially was for Mr. Mc to show his students and friends what he doing while in Pennsylvania and DC in 2011. Now it's being used as a place for him, travelling colleagues and former students to discuss edumacation and history related "stuff" as well as ... well, anything which pops into his head. Mr. Mc would never knowingly embarrass either the school he loves or the family he is devoted to. By joining in the discussion, he expects the same of you.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Finding God with wet feet

Well, it's midnight again. I'm on lights out patrol. A days drive from home. I haven't posted in a couple days. We've been busy. Thursday was a normal day until early afternoon. A raft of God moments, but I'm gonna let those marinate for a bit. The afternoon was a trip to the Martin Luther King, Jr. historic Site. It was something I was probably more excited for that the kids. They graciously indulged. It didn't disappoint. I'll post pictures in a separate post.
Friday was a free day and we spent it at Six Flags. Three wooden rollercoasters, twice on Goliath and a few more smaller ones reminded me that it's not 1979 anymore. It's not even 1989 anymore. Again I'll post pictures later. 
Friday evening is Senior Night. It was a high point for me. Grant and Bryson are phenomenal young men. I was honored to have them lead us in worship. As I prayed that evening I started composing. It is how my brain and spirit process. Again, raw form. But raw isn't a bad thing.

The circle

I'm sitting in a circle.
A circle of little puddles and awkward silences.
A tradition older than most of its adherents.
Amy Grant and Green Day serenade the circle and I wait.

I wait and I pray. 
I wait and think on the past week.
A week of moments.
Miles and hours from home in an alien place.

Alien and exactly home.
Home has been a wrestling point;
between God and his Jacob.
We know how this ends, don't we?

The idea has been so clear for so long.
And now it isn't.
Tina and Anderson have shattered it.
The original idea seems so little; so human.

Gods loves this little cat and mouse-

...But it's my turn.
The ancient rituals played out;
This time on this place's red hills.

No girding of loins.
But everything else exactly as it has been.
Basin and towel. 
The upper room replaced by halogens and this makeshift circle.

The act is secondary to the voices.
Voices for whom this act is profound-central to their week.
Voices who make my soul gasp.
Gasp in awe and pride.

Tears are acceptable, but I don't want them to come.
I want to soak these seconds in without blubbing.
I am surprised by what I hear.
Humbled. Inspired. Honored.

-My time is done and I've survived unwept.
Their voices dim as the exhortations pass;
from one chair to the next as the fragrance travels with them.

My thoughts move back to home
But a hearth is replaced by an overpass.
And a Rose of Sharon replaces
the burnt out shell of a house on the wrong side of the tracks and of hope.

The flower, though, reminds of a truth as old as the ritual.
Both Hope and it's Namesake,
they're very much on the wrong side.
They never left; you just have to be patient, wait, look and listen.

They never left the circle.
The circle isn't about burnt out timbers or "lunches and Jesus!"
It is, but there's more to it than that.

The circle is about submission.
Home is about a safe place.
Or is it the other way around?
Either way, I suppose.

The circle has become home.
A holy sense of humor continues its little scavenger hunt.
A hunt for truth from Truth.
Truth, Hope and it's Namesake revel in the destruction of silly notions.

The circle isn't done.
The ritual is its closing act tonight, 
but it's as much a ritual of beginnings as ends.
Circles don't end, do they?

We'll leave the circle and take these moment home soon.
To beds uninflated, but lives just as tenuous.
There, but for the grace of God, the adage goes.
The adage is Truth.

I'm sitting in a circle.
My thoughts are here;
but so is the Namesake, Hope, Truth and Grace.
They'll travel with me,

They'll travel with me,
to a home rethought and back under holy reconstruction.
Cat and mouse reconstruction may take awhile.
But Patience joins the builders.

It's a fan of circles, too.

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