Poem: Act of Faith


Act of Faith

Cold. Dark. Just outside the hospital.
A special kind of silence.
Thoughts broken as ice, disjointed.
Legs walking on their own,
ignoring the mind.
You would rather not be here
Rather not fight the dread
of not knowing
what you will find,
what form
the brokenness will take
and whether or not
you will have the words,
the grace
to heal

This is what you have chosen.
To be a missionary of sorts,
lacking evangelism
or wisdom, having no more
than your presence. A hodgepodge
of facts and
whatever spark of God lies buried
in your own struggles.

You stand on the elevator.
Ice dripping off your coat.
Your legs. Your cold mindless legs
moving forward, cold and fearful,
acting while the rest of you is stock still
and numb, the mere motion,
each step. the turning of the doorknob
an act of faith.

About this poem. 

The woman I love is a social worker. I am a part-time pastor. There are times we both are faced with situations that are beyond us.



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