The Picture
I laughed when first I saw it –
That right-brained sketch of ideal home,
For “710” it was – grandfather’s house –
Where we first waited dad's return.For though it sat and looked at me
Yes, my ideal – that I could see –
It was impractical at best,
At worst a nightmare, worse than rest.Strange how those items we first see
Locked to our deep emotions be;
We do not buy from left-brain thought,
But from such bonded right-brain rot.That's why I love this poetry
And products of art therapy –
They shift the stuff in right-brain lodged –
In left-brain light, truth can't be dodged.Thus, now I see – I renovate
So current house I then can make
What lives today in image past –
To comfort-zone return at last.Or if we bought some housing new,
We’d dither ’round until some view
Drove us to buy in modern form
The house we lived in when we're born.Now that makes sense – “so this means home”
We thought when first this earth we roamed,
And thought all that when life was best –
All play, and food at mother's breast.“What else?”I wonder in this light
Is bonded to emotions tight
So I am guided on my way
To live out life of yesterday?Is that why form of ministry
Holds such a grip that I can't see
That what was good for yesterday
Would be no good if done today?A house with rooms for families great;
Along with space to congregate;
No outlets where we plug things in;
No room for cars, recycle bin –So with the ministry today:
Folks from all cultures come to stay;
Quite educated are most folks;
With Internet for facts and jokes.Now boundary-crossing is the task
Which lies before us as we ask,
“How can we make community
When folks don't view the world like me”?The Apostolic Ministry –
To walk across those boundaries
Between home cultures we love best,
To see how life’s viewed by the rest.navigation