Love again at first sight

When my son was born 15 months ago, I wrote this poem (found in my blog dated 1/22/2011):

Outside the rain is falling.

Silver clouds drip their tears of joy at this new birth.

The evergreen trees, washed out in the fog,

Speak to me of my worlds, then and now, here and there;

All is quiet after birth, and I hold my new-born son,

Gazing out at falling rain.

~ stc

This morning as my wife was in labor, I wrote this one:

I sit and wait, gazing out at spring fog.

Slowly, slowly, the time goes by as we wait

For our second baby to be born.

Listening for her heartbeat,

I sit and gaze at spring fog.

~stc

Now that my daughter has arrived, I wish I could write as elloquent a poem as I did in 2011; but today I am compelled to give voice to a different kind of prose…

Once my daughter  safely arrived, I took a walk out in a beautiful spring day .  The mysterious fog from earlier in the morning had dissipated, and the heavens were as blue azure as they could be.  Mt. Hood rose up in the distance, its white peak stark against the heavens.  As I walked back from the plant nursery with potted flowers in a basket, it occurred to me that this would be my 40th post.  I am 40 years old.  Shouldn’t there be a special reflection tying things all together?

When I returned, slightly sweaty from the walk in the warm sunny day, I took a shower, empty of words I wish would come.  So I sang a prayer of thanksgiving:

O Lord hear my prayer, O Lord hear my prayer,  When I call, answer me.  O Lord hear my prayer, O Lord hear my prayer, Come and listen to me.

O Lord hear our prayer, O Lord hear our prayer, When we call, answer us.  O Lord hear our prayer, O Lord hear our prayer, come and listen to us.

Living Water, fill our thirsty souls; Holy Spirit, come.  Bread of Life, fill our aching need; Holy Spirit, come.  For we are nothing, without your love.  Breathe new life in us!  Then may our lives bring glory unto you; Holy Spirit, come.

As I sang, wordless prayer took form and was lifted up; now looking back and trying to recreate it with words, I find that I still cannot do justice to the wordless poetry of my spirit and an aching longing for love, calling, and vocational purpose.  None-the less, I will try:

I pray, Lord, for a life of love; love to be spilled out for my children and my wife.  Love to bloom and grow for others and for a ministry to bloom and grow as well.  Fill us with your love, teach us how to love, may your unending love reach deep into our lives and meet our deepest needs.  Lord, love is hard.  Even if my own soul does not receive enough to keep me going, I pray that you will fill me and keep me strong.  Help me to be loving and giving and forget the gift.  For it is in spilling out my life for others that I might, in some way, come close to emulating what you have taught us to do.  You have the way of life, O Lord my God.  Help me to follow you and be your instrument of love and peace.

O Lord hear my prayer, O Lord hear my prayer,  When I call, answer me.  O Lord hear my prayer, O Lord hear my prayer, Come and listen to me.

Amen