Monday, April 25, 2011
Yesterday was Easter and I traveled to see old friends for the holiday. There were children there, playing fashion show, with the littlest sister as mannequin. The food, of course, was indescribably delicious and the conversation quiet and lazy in the heat of the peninsula's warmest day of spring.
The winter has been plagued by bad news from the far corners of the world, so it is no surprise that we are tired. Nor is it a puzzle that we do not understand the wars, the natural disasters, and the need to pump ourselves up each morning just to face the day.
Do you ever wonder why God allows such bad things to happen? No one in their right mind would order up a hurricane, a tornado, or flesh-eating bacteria - but all of these are with us, and the price of gas continue to rise, taking food out of our children's mouths and leaving his parents with the vague sense that they have not done enough to provide a perfect world for their offspring despite the exhaustion that leaves them on the couch.
One thing is for sure: we will always question what the Maker sends our way and hope that we can keep it all on the sunny side. Love, Terry
Sometimes I wonder what is the real news
And what the reporters, trying to keep their jobs,
Have cooked up to go with our morning coffee.
It is all so disturbing – the threats and talk of war,
The disease we bred by hand, irradidated now.
If we don’t watch out, all those old monster
Movies will come to pass and twenty foot lizards
Will lurk in the grass near the birdbath out back
Waiting to eat your cat or to take off your head.
Sometimes I wonder what people think is all right
When the sky is red with volcano dust and the seas
Spit up strange species upon the strand for us to taste –
And the spoiled mouse with two heads is the last one –
And the cow’s milk is gone bad and the meat spoiled.
How can that come to pass when God told us all
That there would always be enough to feed each Mother’s child?
But now we watch the surge of wildest sea and ask
If the children will have a world to run after all.
Sometimes I wonder what happened to our birthright
So that now we find each evening, dark with fear and
Dreams plagued with mud and fire on hill and marsh
Destroying Eden in their miserable march to the leaden sky
When what we crave is a good night’s sleep spooned
With love and trust while the stars waltz about the sky
And the Northern lights track friendly fire from desert bands
Bent on their particular translation of holy word,
And wonder why the Creator allows it all to go on.