God of the Hollows
The woman, it’s said, was barren. The long, long wait had turned hopeless and then resigned. Now they were old and shame had aged with them. Sadness barely creased their faith. Years went into accepting their losses. When disappointments no longer pinch the heart. The wall that blocked out the sky had fallen. Now they could see. An emptiness familiar as the other’s dear face remains. Once pitied, now they were admired. They could accept what cannot be changed. Call them wise. But what was unseen comes to life. God finds the flicker that remains. From desire comes a wild man, one who eats grasshoppers and rouses people from sleep. Not in all our dreams could such a fiery messenger spring from these forgotten loins.
Your promise sounds wild as the desert dweller. Give us ears to hear, since we don’t see very far. It is easier to accept than to listen. Listening moves in another direction. We are called in our youth to follow. Back then we listened hard. At some point, the search was called off. Time to settle down. Time to accept. Didn’t we already answer your call?
But Your plan doesn’t call for surrender. It follows us into barrenness, where repetitions ring like wisdom. You come like ancient desires. Like dreams of our youth the call returns. What was almost lost is born again.
Jeanne Schuler
We live in the city near the university with our three children, so work and family form almost a whole…but not a seamless whole. Family, faith, work, old neighborhoods, leftist (leftover) politics, and enough community are my measures of reality. Also, a good dog named Sid.
Scripture has depths missing from other forms of wisdom. This is closer to the ground we walk on.
