Lights From Above
Too often, I would prefer you keep your lights to yourself.
Parts of me are more comfortable in the dark,
sins all comfortably warm, out of sight, out of mind,
an old suit that sadly, sometimes still fits
The tendency though, it to hide from all lights,
even the ones that bring grace, forgiveness, healing.
And so it is that you have learned to stand,
broken and bloody still, and stand, arms open
waiting for the light that finds you,
hoping, praying, it is God’s, not men’s.
About this poem
Inspired by a conversation at my favorite diner this morning. My mother used to say that a lot of people were going to be surprised who was in heaven. That God was far more forgiving than we humans are. Far more forgiving than we give him credit for.
That has always stuck with me.
The picture was taken, of all places, at the Lord Botetourt football field parking lot. I call it my Edward Hopper photo.