On hearing of a tragic farm accident, full of loss and guilt.

Grief, Like the Air

(Job 13:15)

Sometimes there is no good to be felt;
it is too early to look for the good.
The wound is too fresh for
cold explanations, cold consolations,
for well-meaning, blithe words
that ease nothing.
The mind is numb to all but pain.

There is no escape--
I breathe in molecules of grief,
omnipresent as the air.
Don't speak of blessings in the ashes,
I have no heart to dig.
I live in a black hole
where hope is crushed and
light cannot abide.

I cannot lift my eyes to heaven;
I do not have the faith to lift my eyes to heaven,
afraid that I might curse my day,
afraid that I might blame my God,
and accuse Him of being absent
or uncaring.
I know it is not so, but I do not trust my lips.

I hold on, stubborn and bewildered, like Job.
Wishing my birth undone,
and yet, somehow, I hold on.

--Or is it,Lord, that You are holding me?
I cannot see You;
I cannot feel You,
I have barely enough faith to believe
that You still love me.
I have barely the boldness to ask...

Yet, I must ask--
Lord, would You keep me,
guard me,
swallow me up in Your love and grace
until life is dear to me again,
until light is warm to me again?
Would You hold me,
just hold me, until then?

lori fiechter
4-27-05

Brief Visit

(Psalm 39; II Corinthians 5; John 14)

I had just settled in
with my hot tea and barely buttered scones,
When Mortality dropped by--
He didn't even bother to knock,
just opened the door
and barged right in.

"Have a spot of scones", I sputtered?

Rather sparing of words, he was:
"Get ready"--
that's all he said.

"Ready for what?"
But it was time to go.
I quickly perceived that I was the visitor--
I'd thought I was the host.

All the clocks and watches stopped
and unfinished lists fluttered to the floor.
It was suddenly cold and drafty,
And I realized it was too brief a visit:
although minutes sometimes dragged,
the days stampeded,
and decades vanished like clouds in the desert.

Am I ready?
Ready?
There is no time to pack,
and no room for luggage, anyway.
I've finished camping,
no more tents of fragile flesh;
it's time to go home.

Will it feel like home, right away?
Will I get along with the rest of my family?
What if they don't like me?
Do they have to like me?
Do I have to like them?

Wrong questions.
I just can't shake this visitor's mindset.
I'm going home.
Why am I not more excited?

It is so hard to let go.
Beginnings and endings are both difficult.
His visit was brief as well--with heart-rending farewells.
But He's gone ahead and made me a room--
I wonder why I'll need a room?
I get the feeling that I have wasted too much of this visit.
Have I done all I was supposed to?
Have I learned anything at all?
I did learn that I was not the one in the center,
not the one in control--
He is--
and it's better to do things His way.

I learned how to accept a gift
when I'd rather earn my own way.
Self-reliance won't get me far,
but God-reliance will take me all the way
to my new home.

I don't like change much.
My besetting sins are worry and fear.
Mortality is growing impatient.
I set down my cup, half-sipped,
and my scone, half-tasted.
Just one visit,
one brief visit.
It is goodbye, then, after all.
I blink.
It is hello, then--and welcome!

lori fiechter

Touch my lips with Thy coals
and I'll praise Thee.
For You've sent a High Priest
who can take away sin--
A Savior who carried my sins to His cross
A Redeemer whose blood is enough.

A Song of Cold Rain

(Hosea 6:3, Habakkuk 2:3)

A song of cold rain
Instead of bright sunshine,
Deliverance comes in a manner unsought.
For the vision is fading
and the coals have gone cold
And there comes yet more waiting,
More patience of thought.

But Lord, when You come
All our tears are forgotten,
And all the discomforts
of hopes that went dry.
When You come, like the rain,
Long-awaited and longed-for
We will lift up our faces and cry,
We will shout in surprise at that sky!

Lord, You had never forgotten us!
You bent down and listened,
We looked up and sighed.
And now, You say "Come!"
and no tether can hold us--
We fling every bauble aside;
We cast every earth-weight aside
and we rise.

lori fiechter
3-19-05

Love for the Other Sheep

(inspired by this day's devotional reading in Oswald Chambers My Utmost for His Highest)

But what of the other sheep?
--The pushy ones who jockey for position
around the watering hole?

--The complainers who are greedy for
attention, always bleating about something?

Are There Few?

(Luke 13:23; Isaiah 30:21; John 14:6)

Everyone gets saved eventually, don't they?
Well, most do, right?
Few? Why would there be few?
They can't find the narrow gate?
Do they know what they're looking for?
Is it hidden?
Is it lost?

Or did no one warn them about the choices
in gates and paths and destinations
and so they take the road more traveled,
the gently sloping road with lots of company?

How many souls stand loitering
outside the gate,
waiting for someone to walk with them,
to say "This is the way; walk in it."?
There they stand, weighing the pros and cons,
debating, stalling,
waiting for a better time to decide.

Did no one tell them
that not choosing is a choice itself
and that Heaven is not the default destination?
So which is the way?

--Wrong question.

Who is the way?
Jesus is. He said so Himself.
There is no other way that leads to life.
He is the way, the truth--

Must you hit that snooze alarm again?
Stop it!
It's time to wake up!

lori fiechter
2-22-05

Recommended reading: Ray Comfort's "Hell's Best Kept Secret"

I want to go to Heaven, Too.

I want to go to Heaven, too--
If such a place exists.
Perhaps I ought to buy insurance,
just in case,
Although I don't see why I'll need it;
I'm just as good as most:
honest and moral and law-abiding.

Which law?
No, not that one!
Even Moses broke that Law
(all ten, at once!)
God doesn't hold me to that standard,
does He?
What?
He does?
There's more?
Jesus made it even tougher,
going straight to the seed of sin that starts in the mind?

Now I'm in trouble.
No, now I'm lost.
But then, you are too!
If that is the standard,
then no one is good enough.
There is no way that anyone
can get to Heaven.
Well, that's depressing. That's terrible news.

Wait, there is one Way.
If you are sure that you are lost,
There is a way to be saved.
Are you interested?

Great!
I'll tell you
--some other time.

(I say--you give up easily!
You were supposed to beg. They used to beg.
I would have told you had you begged.
No need to be so polite.
You weren't really interested, were you?)

lori fiechter
2-22-05

Jonah 2; Psalm 107; Psalm 69:1; II Timothy 2:13

Remember

Because I can't remember,
Because I won't remember,
Because I must remember
that You are faithful, Lord,
even when I have been faithless.

I took my eyes off You and
saw the waters deep around me,
lapping at my soul,
lapping at my soul.

I was sinking to the bottoms of the mountains.
and could not save myself;
I could not save myself
from my own foolishness.

But Jesus, You stretched out Your mighty hand,
Reached down with Your strong arm
and picked me up.

I stand in awe of You,
I am amazed by You--
You are so faithful
in spite of my own faithlessness.

Why do I think
You do not hear me
When I cry?
Why do I act as though
You do not care
or feel my pain?
When You have been so ever-faithful
and have never let me down--
How could I doubt?
How can I doubt?

It is because I don't remember
because I can't remember
because I won't remember--
Oh, Lord, I must remember,
make me remember.

lori fiechter
2-14-05

He did.

The title comes from the third verse of a hymn whose title I can't recall.

You walk on life's very edge,
heedless of falling,
mindless of the only Hope of escape.
And that cross around your neck
is just a lucky charm
or fashion statement.

You've been a fool long enough,
Haven't you?
It's time to take another look at that cross.

Woke up to an ugly, cold and gray rainy Saturday, a leaky ceiling, dead truck battery, and a melancholy mood. And now I remember the hymn "I must tell Jesus all of my sorrows...I cannot bear these burdens alone."