The Art of Understanding

The Art of Understanding

I have to be honest with you,
I didn’t get it.
Not at all.
Not even a little bit.
But I tried an ancient trick of old.
Of New.
Of talking to the One who has always been
And always will be.
The one who knows all things;
The portrait of Revelation.
I asked and cried and probed and questioned.
I sought and ran,
Dug and buried.
Running baths to cleanse my soul,
And to spend some time
In everlasting water.
I found some peace.
A little bit of healing.
And a lot of understanding.
Bitterness turned to lemonade
And malice to empathy.
Frustrations are working they way
Towards forgiveness.
Strawberry Jelly takes a while to set.
Step by step,
Inside the One who is Love at its’ finest.
So many nights you spent,
hurting yourself to cope,
longing for a bit of freedom.
A release from being so alone.
Your strength was your weakness,
And your weakness, your strength.
Control at any cost.
You know your Father’s name,
And he increases your bank balance.
How you wish he would increase
your sense of self,
your sense of ‘loveability’.
Oh how that would increse
your love-ability!
You and your mum are bezzies.
What a laugh you have!
Pity you won’t let her
see your night-time tears.
You join in with her feminist rants,
And watch the odd TV programme.
Do you know she loves you?
Where oh where did your assurance
Run to...
That relationship you had
At oh so young an age
Was called manipulation.
Used and abused and misused and confused.
Played for a fool.
You quickly learned how to stop caring.
Took up the building profession, didn’t you?
Everyone everywhere envy your walls.
Or do they just stare at them in
Astonishment and dismay?
The Israelites longed for freedom.
Slaves no longer.
But it was too big a risk -
They longed for the familiar.
No wonder when you find yourself
Amidst the good.
The great.
The godly.
The gracious...
You run.
And long for the familiar.
It hurts, but you can harden yourself.
You’ve learned it,
So you can control it.
You didn’t understand those green pastures too well.
So in this ancient old-new tradion,
Of speaking to Love,
I will hope unswervingly that you find them again,
Regardless of my seeing it or not.
Notice the grace.
Learn the new place that is available for you.
Strawberry jelly takes a while to set.
Bless your soul.