Poems from the 70's, my Christian years

Music starts chills to running
up and down my spine.
I'll love it always.
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The cross of Your Spirit,
the burden is great.
It led You to wilderness thirst.
Its leading is painful,
for wisdom comes late;
we stumble and hurt ourselves first.

The cross led to Easter;
the desert, a spring.
The wilderness bursts forth in flower.
Your peace dwells among us;
Your joy makes us sing;
Your righteousness fills us with power.
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In the pause between thoughts, between breaths, You come.
Your word, although quiet, is clear.
You call me to laughter, to giving and love,
to living a life without fear.

You have told me the past cannot hold me back.
You say I can change and be new.
Your love gives me courage to trust You and try.
I know that Your promise is true.
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Forgiving yourself ain't easy, but it's something you must do.
It's no fun to be in battle where the enemy is you.
There's nothing unforgiveable, no flaw you can't amend.
Be sure you keep on trying, you'll get better in the end.

Think how it is you love your friends, you wish them all the best.
You overlook the faults they have because you love the rest.
You need to love yourself that way; accept your faults, don't fret.
Rejoice that you're still growing; life ain't finished with you yet.
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Praise for the magic that makes the world bright.
Praise for the artist renewing our sight.
Praise for the music that lifts up my soul.
Praise to the One who has made my life whole.

Love is the gift that God taught us to give.
Love is the only secure way to live.
Love Him whose mercy has set us all free.
Love is the reason She made you and me.

Hope, for the darkness can last but a night.
Hope, for our faith brings us into the light.
Hope, for the One who puts sadness to flight.
Hope in the Spirit whose plans turn out right.
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Meditation in the Tub

A soap bubble forms on the shampoo bottle. Iridescent red and blue flames chase each other in circles around its surface--a galaxy spinning in curved space. The flames live only for a few seconds and then the bubble bursts.

The most profound and magical beauty is often fleeting and easy to miss. If I had missed the beauty of that bubble, it would not have nourished me, nor would it have touched the eye of any living creature with its momentary existence. Why then the creation of such wonders? Surely God appreciates their beauty, but can that be enough? Isn't our first reaction--or perhaps second, after marveling ourselves--to want to share what has come to our attention? Perhaps God is like that too.