Of Deity and Bones

“Does God have bones?”
David asked me that today, Lord,
and I couldn’t answer him.
Well—do you?
Have bones I mean.
His question was serious, you know.
He wants to know who and how you are.
And where, too.
And if you’re like us.
I don’t always know.

Bones?
You did have bones once, didn’t you?
Bones and muscles and fingernails
that collected dirt, feet that tired
from miles on dusty roads
and hands that bloodied
from driven nails.
You became like us, didn’t you?

Thank you for reminding me.
Now I know the answer.

Tomorrow I’ll tell David again
that old old story
that even a child can understand.
About a God who filled his lungs
with earth air, tasted bread,
listened to cricket song at night,
held other four-year-olds
on his lap and personally
answered their questions.
About a God who loves so much
he put on bones
and more, much more.

Tomorrow I’ll tell him.

More poems from 2 Corinthians

Swallowed
… what is mortal [will] be swallowed up by life…. (2 Corinthians 5:4)

I can hardly imagine.
These skinny legs, wrinkled hands,
broken promises and disappointments
will one day face the wide open
mouth of Life.
One huge slurp and mortality dissolves.
Swallowed up.
What happens next?
Like I said, I can hardly imagine.


Now
Now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation. (2 Corinthians 6:2)

Good morning, world.
Here I am, ready to go,
ready to stay, ready to leap
over a wall, ready to find a shovel,
dig a while and crawl under that wall.
I’ll find a way.
I’ll be the way.
Today is the day.
With nothing on my schedule,
I know without a doubt--
my time has come.


Blessed Contradiction
… having nothing, and yet possessing everything…. (2 Corinthians 6:10)

I’m a genuine imposter;
I take my clown act seriously.
I’ve forgotten my name
but I claim my fame
and enjoy the limelight
here in my dark corner.
My body tells me I’m dying
yet I’ve never been so alive;
every tendon vibrates.
Sobs or songs can erupt
at any moment, simultaneously.
I’m a penniless spendthrift,
a shameless millionaire
without a bank account.
Having no wings,
see how I fly!


 Recipe
… their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity.
2 Corinthians 8:2

If you wish to be known
as a richly generous person,
here’s a sure-fire recipe:
take two pints
of overflowing joy,
pour them into a gallon
of extreme poverty,
mix well, and serve
to those who need it most.
Expect left-overs.


Cheerful
God loves a cheerful giver. 2 Corinthians 9:7

George Fox told his followers
to walk cheerfully over the earth.
St. Paul tells his to sow their seeds
generously, enriching the atmosphere
for miles around. And so we go,
poor as we are, enriching the poor,
humming like happy bees.
Pollinating our world.



Armed and Dangerous
The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. 2 Corinthians 10:4

Girded with gentleness
I enter the field of battle.
Humility is my bullet-proof vest.
Fastened to my belt
grenades of truth and justice
are at my disposal.
The Holy Spirit does reconnaissance
as I advance slowly,
with calm confidence.
I’m armed and waiting
to wage war against war.
Against injustice, deceit in high places,
and the futile stubbornness
of an army of devils
with many faces, many names.
They don’t stand a chance.
Any time now, ready or not,
here I come.


Thanks for the Anomaly
When I am weak, then am I strong. 2 Corinthians 12:10

Thanks for making me an introvert
then putting me in leadership roles
for setting me on the front row
telling me to get up and talk to the people
be creative, be funny, be wise
and all of it out loud.

The mouse inside peaks out,
shudders and scurries back in.

None of this is natural.
None of this is me.

Yet here I am.
a behind-the-scenes creature
in an up-front job.
Privately quiet, publicly articulate.
Not bold. Obedient.
Gifted they call it.
Your gift doesn’t fit, my Lord,
but the package says, “No returns.”

Even so, thank you.
Comfortable or not,
I am, as ever, at your service.

Some poems from 2 Corinthians

 A Simple Conversation on the Trail
No matter how many promises God has made,
they are all “Yes” in Christ. 2 Corinthians 1:20

We head down the canyon trail,
the one we usually take.
He smiles and tells me, Yes.
I know, I reply.
We pause at the bridge
and again, Yes, he reminds me.
Water gurgling over rocks
supplies exclamation points.
I think I’m beginning to get it.
We round the bend and start to climb.
It comes this time without sound.
Yes slips through the branches
along with winter sun.
And so it goes as we walk
through the forest.
Yes yes oh yes, I respond.
All morning long.

Captives
Thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives
in Christ’s triumphal procession…. 2 Corinthians 2:14

I love a good oxymoron
so learning that I am
a triumphant captive
makes me smile.
A giggling slave,
a precious prisoner,
at least I know
whose side I’m on.
Lead on, King Jesus!
I lift my chains
and skip.

Worn-out
While we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed. (2 Corinthians 5:4)

Groans and burdens aptly describe old age.
My tent has become threadbare with time and trauma.
Soon nurses will expose me, wipe me, wash me
as I silently lament my nakedness.
No one wishes to be unclothed.
So I groan and long for home.
For my new body.
For my new clothes.

Perfect Fit
… to be clothed … with our heavenly dwelling. (2 Corinthians 5:4)

I look forward
to putting on my new house.
The outside walls, of some strong and flexible fabric,
fold my body in heavenly comfort.
I don’t worry about curbside appeal
for the beauty is obvious.
The door is sturdy redwood
and always open.
A wall of windows lets in light
and more colors than I knew existed.
No need of artificial electricity,
and the plumbing works
though the pipes are invisible.
Living water is instantly and eternally available.
My house clothes me well, blesses my body.
A perfect fit.