Life for most may seem so routine,
Hardly ever do we realise our need,
Then a calamity changes the scene,
Suddenly comes ‘an event’ and we bleed.
For when the suffering comes,
Cling to Christ’s weathered cross,
That, for which our soul drums,
Because our God deals with our dross.
When life starts making sense,
An irony has taken place,
Sitting above the offence,
Is God’s grace-filled space.
Absorbing the moment, not to deny,
Bracing the soul to contend,
This is the practice of favour to buy,
Of copious grace to access and spend.
God’s grace is sufficient for any and all encounters of evil.
Most times we’re hampered in our response to the evils as they occur to us. Clinging to the cross is a way of ‘buying’ time in a grace-filled sanctuary—patience when we don’t know how to respond. Delay without denial is imperative. That’s the practice of dwelling courageously within our momentary pain.
Life won’t always be like this. Better days do come.
Clinging to the cross at our varying need is the skill and presence of wisdom; to access divine protection for when life has become untenable.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.