Psalms 40:7-10, 17
Here Am I
No wonder they showed up and stayed. This man was different. He came on the scene not like thunder, not like war, not seeking blood. The new law was spoken in the heart. No wonder the poor followed him. Their lives were the cheapest of all. Butchering found them first. The nameless ones who starved, who slaved, who couldn’t escape. Excitment pulled them together. I’m not sure what this is all about, but count me in.
Down to the beach went the crowd, wading into the water after the boat. Let me touch this healer, this prophet. Just a touch and all will be well. My help lies on the water.
That was then. Here am I. What do you want now?
A marker comes along and we look back over the years. A 50th birthday. Some class reunion. Looking back, we remember looking forward. Life was going to be Big. The world will hear from us. We’ll light up the sky. Anything but ordinary. Not aging parents, the morning paper, heating bills, in bed by ten, new shoes for school. Radical change, not reform. Not gray heads on a picket line. Not just as glad to be home. Life was supposed to be bigger than this.
We swallow the smallness slowly. The taste is not bad. Maybe some questions are answered. Some battles won. Some voices heard. Maybe we are going someplace after all. We live trying to be faithful to all that is true. The end is not nothing. Even a small life makes sense. It brushes up against mystery. I reach out to touch it.
Some things are not forgotten. They stick. Those who
hung in and made it through together. Their presence is a gift.
Just being there gives us hope. We are not alone.
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