Respecting the awesome power of words!

inspiration

Tanked

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I've had my life
         flash before my eyes
          on rare occasions.

Far more frequent
   and disturbing,
               though much more subtle,
                however, are the ways
                      life slowly evaporates,
                day by day,

like water in
       an open cistern
            in an arid clime.

I have this inner conviction
       that there are people somewhere,
  maybe even everywhere,
who are hoping
                   to have their souls quenched,
                     and our lives could be part
                      of what fills their cups,
                 if only we don’t
                           dry up and drift away.

Maybe it's just me,
        but silence, wilderness,
           reflection, and writing
                are what fuels the rain
                           that keeps my reservoir full,

and I need them all
       more often these days.

© 2018 Todd Jenkins
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Savoring

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Sometimes I think
punctuation should be
electrically charged,
to shock us
into slowing down,
when we race through
its intersections
with nary a glance
to either side,
our toes firmly curled
‘round the accelerator.

I’d put a 12 volt battery
on my commas,
just to help you
ingest each phrase,
before wolfing down
the next one.

We read like
we’re starving for words,
but our true hunger
is for meaning,
which only appears
when we savor the text.

Mmmmmmmm!

© 2018 Todd Jenkins

If I Told You…

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... that the earth is round,
or at least nowhere near flat,
I bet you’d believe me.

... the power of love
dwarfs the love of power,
would your heart perceive
enough evidence to agree?

... that fear’s division
can never overcome
hope’s ingathering,
would you dare
to walk this way?

... the economy of scarcity
is a lie exposed
by grace’s generosity,
would you risk investing your life
in your neighbors?

... that news and entertainment
have become commingled
to the point of no return,
would you seek
to set aside both
your predisposition
and your privilege
in order to discern reality?

... the Justice of God
has a twin sister named Mercy,
would you invite them both
to the celebration
that is your life?

© 2018 Todd Jenkins

 


Cell Whispering

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There is but
one great conspiracy.

Its name is Love.

In the end, if not
in the beginning,
or at least somewhere
in the middle,
we will all find
that it is true;

at least all of us
who dare to risk
who we’ve been
told to be,
for the chance
to become who the cells
in our deep-marrows
keep whispering
that we’re meant to be;

Yes; true.
More true than anything
past, present, or future.

When we do,
our world will never
be the same.

If we are courageous enough, 
our world never
being the same
will also make
THE world never
be the same.

Let it begin and continue
with me, with us;
now.

© 2018 Todd Jenkins

Abiding Love

The story of my Malawi-born son, Patrick, was a key part of yesterday’s sermon, titled, “Abiding Love.” Here are a few pictures of Patrick. At the bottom, you’ll find a link to the sermon.

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The sermon link:


Harmony

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    Grace is a haunting melody,
  if anything, and
the best that
  any of us can do
    is lay our stories
  within her measures
and dare to sing
  the narrative of our lives.

    Of course
  you’ll sing off-key.
We all do.

    And we’ll sing
  through the rests,
screeching like a
  testosterone-enraged
    tom-cat on the prowl,
  or a love-sick mother
wooing life-giving resources
  for her brood.

    But the day will come,
  not all at once,
and not when we notice
  or expect it,
    when it almost sounds
  as if we’re harmonizing,
even though
  we don’t know how.

    The voices of those
  nearest and dearest
will also begin to blend,
  as we learn to use ears
    more than mouths;
  navigating the hallway
between head and heart.

    Belt it, baby!
  The world is hungering
to hear your cover.

© 2018 Todd Jenkins

 


Full Flow

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Greed is total surrender
to the fear that,
despite today’s sufficiency,
tomorrow will leave us resourceless;
and therefore,
too much is never enough.

It’s a frenetic piling-on
creating utter breathlessness.

We are (meaning “I am,
and I invite you
to confess your complicity.”)
slow to recognize
that the ability
to tightly hold things
with our tiny hands and
the small part
of our mind and soul
that value such grasping,
is the greatest impediment
to accepting all that for which
God has created us.

Hope is the antidote,
as holy respiration,
allowing us to breathe
deeply and slowly,
palms upturned and open,
so that more of who we’re
meant to be can settle on us,
even wash over us.

© 2018 Todd Jenkins

 


One Foot

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Shadows cast themselves
across the path,
entirely convinced
they are chains,
if not barbed wire,
fully capable
of strangling all movement
in any direction.

But I, vessel
of light and dark,
fire and ice,
have burst
across their boundaries
time and again,
brimming with hope
in a sea of despair,

not because
of who I am,
but because
of what love’s done;
not because
of what I’ve done,
but because
of who grace is.

Let us,
both you and I,
break into
an all-out sprint,
flinging ourselves across
these penumbral barriers
like Olympians
at the finish line,
leaning into
and breaking the tape
of victory’s wreath.

This is the courage
by which we 
who’ve plumbed
the depths of despair
keep putting one foot
in front of the other,

because our deeps
keep telling us
there’s not only light
beyond the valley
of the shadow of darkness,
but life
in its richest manifestation.

© 2018 Todd Jenkins

 


Wild Words

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When language is also open
    to emotion, as opposed
    to intellect alone,
    it is less controllable,
    and thus threatening
to the status quo.

Feelings, and words infused
    with their energy, can be
volatile change-agents.

I suspect that poetry,
    with its clandestine double entendre
    and metaphorical open-endedness,
    rests near the limit
    of our privileged ability to hear,
    without being shocked
into shut-down.

Narrative preaching,
    in its often-predictable 
    fairy-tale-ness,
    is good for the business
of the stock-market classes.

One of the few challenges
    to that is parable,
    which Jesus either
    used a whole lot,
    or it was about the only thing
    that survived generations
    of oral transmission and memory
between Golgotha and the gospels.

Even the remembrance
    of Jesus’ parables rarely,
    if ever, includes 
    the Nathan-to-David
    prophetic table-turn of,
“You’re the man!”

Security, prosperity,
    and social dominance
    are mammon
    of crack-cocaine allure,
    depriving those addicted —
    both speaker and listeners —
    of the essential gift
of life-giving manna.

Their anesthesia-like qualities
    stand guard at the door,
    duct-taping emotion’s mouth
before it ever leaves the heart.

“Big boys don’t cry.”
    the guards say, and,
    “Frozenness is a sign
    of chosenness.”
    as well as,
    “He who controls his feelings,
    and thus his words,
controls the world.”

And then the poet
    bursts upon the scene,
    or maybe just scribbles a few stanzas
    on a sea of blank space,
    threatening to unleash
    a marrow-deep flood
of soul-wrenching response.

Lord, in your mercy,
uncork our hearts.

© 2018 Todd Jenkins

 


E-Strangement

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How much more has our access
to a virtual world exacerbated
our isolation and identity
of both other and self as stranger?

We are, are we not, e-strangers;
limited-character replies
passing in the night,
hell-bent and fear-rent
on steaming full speed ahead
so we don’t dare take on anything,
much less anyone?

Neighborhooding, friending,
working, voting, and churching
ourselves into social, economic,
and religious homogeneity
are not the answer;
they are the problem.

Open the door —
the actual physical one —
and break out the food —
the kind that satisfies
real human hunger.

We must gather ‘round a table
where all have a seat
and none are on the menu.

This is our only chance;
our only path away
from mutually assured destruction;
our only road to hope.

© 2018 Todd Jenkins