The Great Mandela

 

I have been struggling with whether or not I continue parish ministry. This week two liturgies, one on Ash Wednesday (remembering we are but dust) and an infant baptism this morning affirmed my direction, In these two events I was assured that this was still my call in the few remaining years of my life. It is what I have been called to do 25 years ago. This morning, it was God’s voice, a song from the cosmos, and the turning of The Great Mandela which picked me up from my mat of grief. A poem came out of this encounter on my drive home.

_________________________________

traversing the great

wheel

learning to walk

alone

without her

2 months ago

i midwifed 

the departure of 

her

beautiful

gracious

soul

it was ephemeral and

translucent

as it

slipped away

leaving me 

alone

gasping for air

yet i

found my

footing today

still wobbly 

as i again

midwifed a soul

in-coming this time

newly-arrived

enfleshed

ready

ready to be 

what God 

created this child

to be

baptism 

marked and sealed

him as

Christ’s own

for ever

just as you

my beloved 

were 

marked and sealed

67 years

ago.