Skip to main content

Doubting God (Part II of Many)

By Mango
I wished the words of prayer
would come
Full and resounding
Bursting with the confetti
Of a faith of celebration
A triumphant declaration
A reverent adoration
Something
Anything
But tonight,
Despite the stuttering syllables
Tip-toeing on my tongue
All that emerged
Was the smallest mumble—

“Yes. Please God, Yes.”
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Like a Tree

By
Or consider that tree  In the dead of winter See how bare-bone it is? How affected and exposed it is?  How sturdy and mortified it is? Every year, you know  New life Fresh beginnings a creation, a refuge planted by streams of living water  Sparks along the limbs Every year, you know  Old death a sorrowful bow braced by wind and storm roots creaking Stripping the body clean Every year, again and again  At nature's mercy secure, yet defenseless sheltering death and life  Together  At once The tree bears it all Do you need me to tell you?  God is like this tree naked, unashamed, other, known mercifully at our mercy invaluable, yet commodified incomparable, yet ignored struck down, but not destroyed bearing fruit in and out of season   Teeming with Life everlasting God is like this tree And we cannot imagine it without him
Post a Comment
Read more

Be Free

By
Morgan Harper Nichols I saw myself in the mirror and for a brief moment, I loved what I saw. Then instantly I corrected. No, don't like it, don't accept it. You need to eat healthier. You need to workout. Then, x pounds later, you can like it. I loved my body, then instantly doubted that love. "Don't love that, then you won't take care of it." Why was that my natural narrative? Why do I expect that loving my body means I won't do what's best for it? I'm all for discipline and doing the hard but good things in order to be healthy. But I'm not even a little bit for letting hatred, dislike, disappointment be how I'm supposed to feel toward my body. I'm calling that moment of love a miracle. I loved my body in its ordinary, everyday state. This body of mine, that carries my pain, my fears, my shame. This female body--so often hated in word and deed. It's a miracle for a woman to love her body, given the history of harassm...
1 comment
Read more

Pondering the Pandemic III: Cruciformity

By
As this pandemic continues and its effects take a toll on our communities and collective morale, I feel a responsibility to spur fellow white American evangelical Christians away from the grotesque roleplay of the political martyr--a role I admit we have been trained in for at least two generations--so that we can mobilize to meet our neighbors' needs. Churches should be thinking creatively and compassionately about how to bring healing where there is suffering, and to do so with the confidence that we are welcoming the presence of Jesus each step of the way. I am more convinced than ever that the white American evangelical church has utterly forgotten cruciformity --meaning that we are a people who, as Jesus taught, deny ourselves and carry our crosses. Said differently, we are a  people shaped by the cross and its implications.  I fear we have forgotten this basic truth, and along the way, our imaginations shriveled up. We have become so consumed with obtaining ...
Post a Comment
Read more