Monday, March 17, 2008

I was french pressing coffee

this a.m. at 8
and Jen tells me
Wayne died three days ago
murdered by the man who lives in his homeless home with him--
someone must've found his body in the campys by the railroad's off Ann st.--
Kathy told Jan.

I met Wayne once
he bottled up legions of voices in his body
hid beneath the cap of his hat and looked out into this world with
bothered, exhausted, dark eyes
quoted scripture to Brad, the beatitudes loud enough during Tony's prayer
we wondered who was in there

pulled a knife on our Joe one saturday night
Wayne, the tortured man that only God coulda cured
only God can cure any of us

Joe told me Wayne stuck his finger under a passin train once
so he could walk to the hospital bleeding
to get some drugs

_______________

I'm beginning to understand, [I barely understand]
the chains of this world that we have all been sent to fight against
our role as warriors, walkers of light
prayer, wow, I am beginning to understand prayer and it's incredible power

Guess what? God is really real

I see Him reshaping Don, Joe, Jeff, Marv, Steve, Roger--soon to be, Jules
those mighty hands of His that I am only beginning to love
mighty because
the rocks in their chests, my chest, your chest: becoming pools of water
I see the spirit bubble up within: Living water

And I see it, now, our highest priority in this life is to simply

love the God of Freedom
and then use scripture, which is sharper than a sword (Hebrews 4)
to cut the chains
that bind
the
sleepers

(Isaiah 58. )

______________________________________________________________
(Yesterday)

torture
(so I call it, daily)


leaving the boiler room is really why it's hard to go --
I want to be a part of this fighting here:
for people's souls, the capturing of hearts,
God is so good at romance, isn't he? and
it's hard to go where your heart is not
daily

Jeffery was perched in the smoker's nest
smoking
asking
where you headed?

I say, I'm off to school, the joy of my being, the torture of my year
he says

I'm sorry for your good luck

2.
it strikes me how blessed I am
how different I have it from other people who wish they could just go back
no choice but to just begin where they are now, gray hair
not even a week sober and
joyful

He, clearing the sidewalk out front that we never knew we had and
uncovering the green grass
(the exhausted brown grass trying to cling on, cling on, cling on
kind of like his alcoholic demon, so willing to kill the growth beneath or hide the pathway)

he probably bagged it, (the grass, the demon)
and set it out back where it'll get carried away on trash days

he might have to re-bag a few times, we'll help him re-bag a few times,
it's what we do because it's what Jesus' does, until we have a clean pathway
among other things

http://fairtradeclean.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/12/small-broom-1.jpg

he'll get there if he isn't already and we'll get used to seeing him around
asking for paper towel, shirt tucked in now, hair cut, clean shaven, inviting his friends to participate in freedom
[which kind of makes me feel like maybe I should learn from him]

it's amazing what a few days can bring a person
and I believe that for everyone
with God

__________________________________________________

With God, all things are possible. - Matthew 19:25



2 comments:

Anonymous said...

deep....thanks

brooke sellers said...

there's so much packed into this one post. so much. i appreciate your perspective on all of these things and how you find and so beautifully give voice to the meaning in all these occurrences.