Poem: Bedouin God

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Bedouin God

You enter the sanctuary alone.
There is no congregation, no choir.
The lights are off. The heat is turned low.
The morning sun comes through the windows.

God, they say, lives here.
In the shadows. In the light.
But you have always suspected he was more Bedouin than that,
wandering with the wind, traveling

to meed the souls where they are.
Fields. Mountains. Cityscapes, hidden
in the corners, dancing in the streets,
he is there

and today, while you wait, he is here too,
never waiting, always chasing souls
determined, like two-year-olds
to do it themselves.

About this poem

This whole two-year-old “I’ll do it myself.” thing works great. Until it doesn’t.

The picture was taken at Lithia Baptist Church in Lithia, Virginia. I took it through the window because the doors were locked.

Tom

3 comments

  1. Yes. I’m always amazed at how God works. I was just meditating this morning on how God runs after us and engages us in His holy dance.

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

  2. My verse for today is to be still and know that I am God. I’m to be still instead of flailing around…He is God and will come to me even as I come to Him or even before.

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

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