We often carry in our hearts and souls lots of anxiety for the plight of our world, our cities, our neighborhoods. We fret over how scarce peace is, we worry about the “what ifs” so today take a short break and allow Sheenagh Pugh’s poem Sometimes to offer some rescue. I encourage you to take a moment and with a hot cup of coffee or tea to pause for a moment, read her poem, and ponder the possibility that all is not yet lost. The last two lines of the poem form my prayer for you.
Sometimes things don’t go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.
Lord God sometimes
my day is too full of the impossible,
sometimes there is just too much to wish for,
sometimes too much to attempt to change.
Into my day, O Lord, pour me some hope.
Into my pain, O Lord, pour me some ease,
Into my frustrations, O Lord, pour me some calm.
Open my eyes and my heart and make me ready
to seize those “sometimes” moments,
when the lost coin is found,
when the lost sheep is carried home,
when the hungry are fed
when the lame can walk and
the blind can see and the
rich share their wealth and
the strong extend a hand and share their heart.
May it be so with me and may it happen
sometimes multiplied by seven times seven. Amen.