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- On the Same Team
- Ready for Pickup
- My Personal Restrainer
- I Deny Him
- More than my Personal Best
- Precious scars, A Crooked Pot
- What I Want
- I Didn't Pray Today
- Thrashing, Splashing
- Tough Questions from God
- The Present is a Gift
- Call
- Be There
- It was a Month Ago
- Mashing potatoes makes me Cry
- Don't Weep for Me, Life can seem so Long
- A Light Went Out, Mission Accomplished
- Die to Self Today, Feeling Preachy
On the Same Team
(I Corinthians 12, Galatians 3:28, Colossians 3:11)
If we’re all on the same team,
there should be but one
pep session:
one in honor and in praise
of our Head.
In the Body of Christ,
there should be no
us and them:
neither Greek nor Jew,
slave nor free,
neither blue-collar nor white.
Neither employee nor boss,
stay-at-homes nor wage-earners,
no school spirit or party politics,
no natives vs. strangers,
neither rich nor poor.
We are all on the same team
aiming toward a common goal,
all different, but laboring together.
We are not a bunch of subsets
stroking our own egos
according to our interests,
our convictions, or our gifts.
We all are on the same team,
reporting to our Captain;
each thankful for the job
He has chosen us to do.
Lori Fiechter
April 12, 2001
We saw a Passion Play last week. When the actor portraying Christ ascended into heaven, I couldn't help whispering, "Come Back!" . And the throne scene in heaven affected me even more. The next day, when I looked up at the sky, I wondered, "Why can't one of those clouds be the One that brings Him back?"
Ready for Pickup
I was looking out my kitchen window
at the bright and puffy clouds,
thinking, "How I wish the Lord
would come back now."
I want to see the heavens opened,
my Lord descending in a cloud,
I’m a package: addressed and stamped,
ready for pickup.
I’ve been waiting twenty years;
ready for pickup.
The packaging is faded now,
it is wrinkled some and torn,
but I’m waiting to be changed,
perfected and renewed;
To be freed from all my
shortcomings,
my selfishness and sin;
To be like Him.
Loosed from all my faults,
my failings and my fears
when I see Him as He is,
when he finally appears
(I’ve been waiting twenty years.)
I want to reach out my arms,
kick air with floating feet,
to say farewell to earth
without a passing glance below,
Without a pang of loss
at what I’ve left behind.
For my eyes are on His face,
the One I’ve longed to see;
I want to walk right through
that open door
into eternity.
Lori Fiechter
April 8, 2001
This is also from "The Normal Christian Life" by Watchman Nee. A man once remarked to Nee that the law of the Spirit has the power to make anyone a truly refined, perfect gentleman, regardless of one’s upbringing. The Spirit nudges us to do the right thing, whispers to us "Your voice was too loud", "That was inappropriate", "Your motive in saying that was wrong". We each have our own personal trainer in holiness.
My Personal Restrainer
(James 3:3)
Holy Spirit, restrain me,
refine me, retrain me.
Put Your bit in my mouth
and turn me around.
Rein in my hasty tongue,
Rein in my thoughts;
Keep my actions
and attitude in check.
Prompt me when I’m hesitant,
when I balk at Your will;
Guide me when I have
a choice to make.
I know I’m a maverick
that no one else can tame.
But deep down,
I really want to obey.
And so—no strings attached—
I give you my reins.
Holy Spirit, restrain me
refine me, retrain me.
Lori Fiechter
April 12, 2001
I am reading Watchman Nee’s classic, "The Normal Christian Life". In his chapter on "Walking in the Spirit", Nee asks, "Why do men use willpower to try to please God?" Peter used willpower; it failed him. It will fail us as well.
I Deny Him
In my flesh,
I deny Him;
In my flesh,
I cannot stand.
I cannot keep
the promises I make.
When I go
in my own strength,
I fall short repeatedly;
I cannot force myself
to do His will.
Because I’m naturally sinful,
and naturally selfish;
I’m naturally fit
for nothing higher up than hell.
All my vaunted willpower
will eventually fail.
I cannot do the right thing every time.
That’s why I must deny myself,
my own way and my will
so that I won’t keep on
denying Him.
Lori Fiechter
April 12, 2001
(inspired by Watchman Nee's classic, The Normal Christian Life)
More than my Personal Best
I already know what I am;
I’ve already tried
the best that I can;
and I already know
that my best
will never be good enough.
My bootstraps are too short;
My willpower too weak;
I cannot push this car
uphill for long.
I need more than
to do better;
I need to shake off these
heavy fetters;
I need Christ to live His life
through me;
To trust Christ to live His life
in me.
Because it’s going to take
more than my personal best;
It’s not a work,
but a walk of faith
It shouldn’t feel like work, but rest
To trust enough to really
rest in Him.
Lori Fiechter
April 12, 2001
I have heard that the only man-made things in heaven will be Jesus’ scars.
Precious scars
(Zechariah 12:10; Luke 29:39,40)
Precious scars,
eternal price tag,
to remind us
what it cost Him.
His scars—our only
ticket into heaven.
Look on Him
whom we have pierced
with our pride and
disobedience;
Precious scars
to remind us
how we ever
got up here.
Lori Fiechter
March 22, 2001
I never was any good at Art class; and pottery making was a particular failure.
A Crooked Pot
I made a crooked pot:
ill-favored, uneven,
lopsided, misshapen,
listing hard to starboard.
I am that pot:
so crooked that
I am unfit for any use.
I ask forgiveness
for what I am:
a crooked pot.
But I will not let
the Potter remake me.
Though I am useless this way,
I fear to see
how He would change me
to make me useful.
I am a stubborn pot
and I am
still crooked.
Lori Fiechter
March 28, 2001
Think about it a while; what is it that you really want? "Give me neither poverty or riches" is a start. Good health would be another. And beyond that?
What I Want
Comfort, not pity
Hope, not luck
Respect, not flattery
Encouragement, not advice
Love, not bribes.
Friends, not yes-men
Loyalty, not charm
Truth, not tradition
Mercy, not judgment
Grace, not a scorecard.
Lori Fiechter
March 29, 2001
I read a comment in World magazine on Zechariah 10:1, explaining that we shouldn't stop praying once the rain comes. It's true, when the crisis is past, it takes more effort to keep our prayers real.
I Didn't Pray Today
I didn't pray today.
I bowed my head
and closed my eyes,
mouthed a few words
to the skies.
But I didn't talk to God
and what's worse,
I didn't listen.
The ritual is well ingrained
But I didn't really
pray today.
Lori Fiechter
March 15, 2001
It’s hard to save a drowning man who struggles against his rescuer.
Thrashing, Splashing
Thrashing, splashing;
It’s hard to save
a drowning man
who won’t hold still.
But I’m so used to fighting,
to being in control,
that even though
I know Your arms
are strong enough to hold me,
though I know that
they are strong enough
to pull me
back to shore,
I can’t quite
trust with my heart
what I believe
with my head.
I’ll keep on thrashing
and splashing
till I’m too weary
to go on.
Lori Fiechter
March 9, 2001
Tough Questions from God
I heard your prayer last night.
Do you really want me
to use you--
Even if I bruise your ego?
Even if I wound your pride,
If you look foolish in others’ eyes?
If I encroach upon "your" time?
If I have to break you,
mold you,
to be my chosen vessel,
Will you balk and give excuses,
will you render my plan useless?
(I can’t use you as you are,
you need a few more
chips and scars)
Can I take you at your word?
Can I believe your prayer?
Can I use you in My own way,
Are you willing?
Do you dare?
I heard your prayer last night—
but did you mean it?
Lori Fiechter
February 27, 2001
A friend wrote me that when his daughter was five years old, she said "Today is a gift daddy, that's why it's called the present" Out of the mouths of babes, indeed. His poem was better but it inspired my own:
The Present is a Gift
(James 1:17)
The present is a gift
But a gift must have
a giver.
Who is this giver who
gives us today?
A gift--wrapped up
in moments--
for this moment
is the only time we claim.
Yes, perhaps it's called
the present
because it is a gift.
But a gift must have
a giver;
Oh, have you thanked
the Giver
for this day?
Lori Fiechter
February 22, 2001
Call
(Jeremiah 33:3)
Cold and dirty,
lost and lonely,
afraid to call for help,
Unsure that there is anyone
close enough to hear.
You’re afraid of looking foolish,
too proud to seem so weak;
Why call for help
when there is no one near?
But He says,
"Call and I will answer
and show you mighty things.
Call and I will
take away your fear."
Call—He’s always listening;
Call—He is close by;
Call—yours is the voice
He longs to hear.
Lori Fiechter
February 27, 2001
I have such an aversion to being intrusive that I often sin at the other extreme. I will not "be there" for someone unless I am prodded into doing so. I say this to my shame.
Be There (for Jenny)
I babble and I blather
but she says it doesn’t matter,
it doesn’t really matter
if one’s heart is right.
I’m lousy at consoling woes;
I cannot feel her pain
and it’s no good pretending
that things are just the same.
I don’t know what to do or say
beyond, "How did things go today"
(If you feel like crying, it’s OK)
Perhaps the best thing one can do
is to be there, just to be there.
They say that half of life
is merely showing up.
(Or is it 95%? That seems a little high.)
Do you know someone who’s hurting?
Is there a duty to be done?
The self-protective instinct
is to run away and hide,
Let someone else take up the slack,
You mean well, but you’re busy.
The truth is that it hurts too much
to get close to such raw pain.
You don’t want to be reminded that
"it could be me"
It could be me
whose future just turned black;
It could be me who can’t remember
what life felt like before:
before I lost my husband,
my money or my health.
It could be me.
…and if it were,
I know that I would need a friend
to be there,
not to tell me how to feel
or what to do;
a friend to keep me company,
to listen without judging;
I want to be the kind of friend
that I would want for me.
Lori Fiechter
March 6, 2001
Some questions don't have answers,
which is a terribly difficult lesson to learn.
--Katharine Graham
(in memory of Stacy Fiechter, age 16, almost 17)
Not just another day;
We can’t pretend it’s
just another day;
The calendar marks it
all too well.
It was a month ago--
a month of endless days--
When eternity crashed in
and claimed
mortality’s fragile vase.
Time stopped and swirled
and focused all its
minutes on that head;
Our broken vase
lay swathed in white
upon the sterile bed.
Remember icy terror’s grip
and the warmth
of Heavens’ peace?
Of holding firmly on to hope,
and then—the sad release.
Life seemed unreal,
unreal as death;
A life reduced to
brainwave graphs
and artificial breath.
It was just a month ago today;
a month of countless tears;
It was a month ago today;
It feels like twenty years.
Lori Fiechter
March 1, 2001
My friend told me that is not the writing thank-yous for funeral flowers, or picking out the tombstone that is most difficult; it is the everyday tasks that call up memories and tears. Tasks like mashing potatoes. I couldn't get that out of my mind.
Mashing potatoes makes me Cry (for Jenny)
Mashing potatoes makes me cry;
I cannot blame the onions.
I remember when I mashed enough
to feed one person more.
Doing laundry makes me sad;
an unexpected jolt to wash
the hand-me-downs
that she once wore.
Memories in every room,
I must get out,
can’t shake the gloom.
I need some fresh air,
head outside,
and there I meet
her dog.
Lori Fiechter
February 23, 2001
Don't Weep for Me
Don't weep
for me;
I am where
I want to be.
This is
not the end;
This is where
I begin again.
So love life
and see good days,
Look for joy,
Sing His praise.
Wounds heal,
Hearts mend;
We will meet again.
Give your grief to Him.
Lori Fiechter
February 22, 2001
Life can seem so Long
Time weighs heavy,
Time lies long,
Endless days
stretch on and on.
When we're waiting
for relief,
While we're working
through our grief,
Life can seem so long.
Life can seem so short
when we look into the mirror;
when we see an older, wiser face,
and ask, "How did that get here?"
Old photographs of chubby babes,
sticky smiles, birthday cakes;
We wonder, where does time go
when the photos fade?
Life can seem so long
When a part we loved is gone.
Separation stings and smarts,
or else it throbs and drags our heart;
Remembered smiles
bring fresh tears
and life can seem so long.
Lori Fiechter
February 22, 2001
(for Stacy Fiechter, March 25, 1984-February 8, 2001)
A Light Went Out
A light went out;
A flower plucked.
A hole was rent;
A wound left bleeding.
A voice gone silent,
An empty chair,
words left unsaid
hang in the air.
The light is relit—over there.
The voice belongs to a
land more fair.
The flower blooms
to never fade.
But here, the scar;
But here, the void;
But here, the light went out.
Lori Fiechter
February 9, 2001
Mission Accomplished
"It is finished",
mission accomplished.
Though three years
seemed hardly long enough.
(What could He have done in thirty?)
But He said
His work was done.
As for us,
When we sign up
for our mission,
we sign up
for an unknown term.
And we do not know
why some missions
seem too drag too long
and some
are cut too short.
When He says,
"Mission accomplished"
He asks us to
Trust Him,
not to understand.
…But those are His arms
that enfold us
and those are His tears
that fall.
Lori Fiechter
February 8, 2001
I am reading a book titled, "No retreats, no reserves, no regrets", a compilation of Christian essays by Christian apologists. The chapter by Bill Jack affected me greatly—a chapter on fear and defeat. Here are some quotes:
"what one fears is what one worships…once you fear the true Creator, the God of the Bible, He promises to remove fear of everything else."
"the first thing a kernel of corn has to do in order to reproduce is to die. The same principle applies to people. Do you recall wanting to meet that special person who sat in your 9th grade biology class…? You may have been shy, self-conscious about …your complexion, but finally you introduced yourself…. How did you meet that person? You first had to die to yourself. If you had not died to yourself, you would have missed the friendship of a lifetime. That same principle applies to Christians. If a Christian is consumed with himself, he will never go out and proclaim the Good news because he is self-conscious."
Die to Self Today
I need this message
on my mirror:
Don’t worry about your
own little feelings,
about coddling and
protecting them.
Die to self and
self-consciousness.
Die to worldly reputation
and opinion.
Don’t protest,"I can’t"
but say,
"I will, if it’s God’s will to do so"
Walk in the Spirit,
not in your own fear.
Nothing of eternal value
can be accomplished
until
unless
you first die to self.
Ouch.
No, that was only a flesh wound.
I can’t kill it, Lord. You’ll have to.
Lori Fiechter
February 6, 2001
Feeling Preachy
Wrong way!
Turn around!
Watch where you’re going;
There’s a lion lurking,
a trap set.
Turn on the light!
Open your eyes!
…but whether blind
or hypnotized,
they follow the piper
anyway and call me
"preachy".
(see Jude 23, Romans 16:18, II Timothy 4:2-4)
Lori Fiechter
1-29-01