December 7, 2012

My Journey to God

Gospel Teller

When he tells the story,
He doesn’t lightly tap us on the shoulder
Or give us some gentle nudge.
He shakes us
And shouts, “Wake up!”

We’re not meant to just sit there
And be a casual observer.
We’re supposed to get up,
And step into the scene
And into the skin of another.

We become the woman at the well,
Not realizing at first
The depth of our thirst
And that it can be
Forever quenched.

On bad knees, we run
Propelled by forgiveness and love
To wrap our arms around and kiss our son.
He has come home.
We are Lazarus coming forth
From the doldrums
Of darkness and death,
Arms outstretched,
Feeling once again the warmth
Of light and life.

“What do you want me to do for you?”
We hear the words He speaks.
Our lips part and,
From the depths of our heart,
We say, “Master, I want to see!”

Every story is alive.
Every story infuses life
In us.

By Cathy Lamperski Dearing
 

(Cathy Lamperski Dearing is a member of St. Barnabas Parish in Indianapolis. She wrote this poem as “a tribute to all those who infuse life into the Gospel in the way it is preached and in the way it is lived.”) †

Local site Links: