"Do you think that could have been God?"

Carrying home upon his back

everything strapped and secured

declaring himself a free spirit

a lone adventurer

With wind pulling apart long wavy hair

 eyes of deep blue crinkled at the edges

he story tells, reflects, and shares life

We speak of faith, God, doubts, experiences

 voices of skepticism, mistrust,uncertainty

words begin to mismatch face

with a pause he leans forward

Questioning me if secret telling would be okay

the refuge of a cathedral is spoken of

the seeking of peace away from the chaos

face full of wonder, beauty and bashful excitement

He shares the mysterious invisible presence that sits beside him

suddenly he is not alone, and it feels good to be with

safe, comforting, wonderful

A smile creeps across his face as the moment is recounted

"Do you think that could have been God?" 

Arms,kisses,words,eyes,presence...of Jesus.

Small slightly tucked forward

bent knees, little steps

fingers intertwined together

working to manage constant shaking

eyes drooped she searches faces

with cane clutched in one hand, cup in the other

she endures long days full of rejection,physical pain, and exhaustion

she offers her heart, unconditional friendship  

pouring words of extravagant delight and affirmation 

Her life is simple, profound and powerful

The light, the comfort, the love that expresses itself in pure frailty is beauty

difficult to process, a mystery to behold, forever pointing me to the face of Jesus

I have never left this woman without sensing

the arms of Jesus  somehow holding me

the kisses of Jesus  somehow upon my cheek

the words of Jesus somehow warming and overwhelming my heart

the eyes of Jesus  somehow looking at me declaring me beautiful and special

the presence of Jesus with me holding my hands on a subway ride

" This precious treasure- this Light and power that now shines within us- is held in a perishable container, that is in our weak bodies. Everyone can see that the glorious power within us must be from God and is not our own."

2 Corinthians 4:7

He sees the oppression, the cries, the suffering...

"I have certainly seen the oppression of my people In Egypt

 I have heard their cries of distress yes, I am aware of their suffering

I have been watching closely

I am the Lord

I will free you from your oppression 

and rescue you from your slavery in Egypt

I will redeem you with a powerful arm

I will claim you as my own people, and I will be your God

Then you will know that I am the Lord

who has freed you from your oppression."
( pieces from Exodus)

I am comforted by the heart of God our father
it is timeless, consistent, faithful
his heart draws me to hope, to trust, to have faith

he sees the oppression of my friends on the street in Toronto
 trapped in the firm grips of addiction
bodies being used, mistreated, abused
tormented by mental illnesses
hearts wounded and torn up by grief
those forgotten, homeless, left alone
he hears their cries of distress, he is aware of their suffering
he watches closely
he is the Lord

I must cling to the father though my faith is weak and shallow
He longs to free my friends from their oppression
to rescue those in slavery of many kinds
to redeem with a powerful arm
 to claim each dear one as his own
 to show them he is the Lord

Your presence is essential.

Rage spits unfiltered

eyes brim with fire

harsh accusations condem

attacks upon identity

hatred flares up

ugly words released

lunging violently

threats yelled

degradation muttered 

separately they walk off 

Jesus your presence is so essential

You are Peace

You are Healing

You are Restoration

You are New Life

You are Hope

You are Redemption

You are Forgiveness

You are Reconciliation

The tiniest gate

Her usual stance is harsh and hardened
features full of a fiery irritation
eyes that skitter back and forth
a wall massive built high around her
speech steeped in sarcasm, doubt, discomfort
I approach with my guard up
prepared and ready
she stands defeated, shoulders slumped
eyes holding back tears, hurt
her wall for a moment seems to open the tiniest gate
her words share with vulnerability, shame, ugly reality
she allows for the moment to be truly seen
her act leaves
hurting heart, exposed
wordy confusion revealed
processing cycles and struggles
lost and answerless mindset