Sunday, December 8, 2013

a poem: of peace during advent and after car accidents

A patch of ice. Sliding starts.
The brakes and tires not catching anything.
Somehow we start to turn into the median
instead of going straight into the intersection.
Bump. Thud. Crash. Shatter.
We are on the opposite side
facing the opposite way.

I look into the backseat.
Both of my boys are completely fine.
Crying, I am able to drive home.
I just want to get home
is all that I can think.
And Thank You Jesus that they are unharmed.

Why me? pops into my head a bit.
(It usually does in unpleasant circumstances.)
Phone calls made, questions answered, cereal poured.
I grip the counter and ask, "What do You want me to learn 
from this?"
I sit on my kitchen floor, finally,
head almost touching the ground, and I cry for a minute.
I ask my question again,
"What do You want me to learn?"

Providence, luck, or something in-between
I don't know - I'm not good with labels.
I know I am a bit frustrated, fighting back sarcasm at times,
but mostly I am thankful for how it happened
if it had to happen.

Peace is promised to me at all times
which I take to mean even in the moments I am the most restless,
the most stressed, the most annoyed.
I do not have to wrangle it or manipulate it
or conjure it up.
I only have to receive it.

The peace that is not of this world.
The peace that passes all understanding.
The peace that passes my understanding.
The peace that overcomes the world.

1 comment:

Thanks for stopping by and sharing your thoughts with me.