The Stash
I do not wish to get this wrong, O Lord, I'm sure you know,
As forward I grope onwards towards vocation's open door;
It's scary, moving on now, been away so long it seems
Through sickness, loss of way, and from a lesser life redeemed.The details pile on detail – modules scanned for insights there
Inform my way – yet something, holds me back from what I dare;
Like tea-leaf readers shifting data right to left brain know,
With outside aid of pondered text, I scan before I go.Why now – because it's like a time in high-stakes poker game –
Observing ‘tells’ from deep inside – life soon won't be the same?
Or timing – knowing when to cut one's loss or play the cards?
Am I just scared, cut off – no sounding board, which makes it hard?Why no! – for time's not right for sounding board to come in play;
When it's all done, the detail scanned and indexed out this way
I'll have a stash to edit text, enriching from my store
So I'll push on – I'll plumb the depths and add in so much more.I was confused – both modules, books, reflect a life I've lived;
I've pioneered that paradigm, played out the thoughts which give
An answer to that question posed to me five years ago:
“If you we hired, what impact here would be church life you know?”Right brain to left – I played it out for them in fiction books –
A life made up to show development – how it might look;
Now back I go, to mine once more this treasure-trove of gold
I stored away when “Scripture scan” assembled what I know.I've worked, reworked, now index, all the parts which speak to me;
As charts are done, great sections cluster up what I have seen;
So as I edit, need to fill some scene, enrich some part,
I'll have this stash of insight drawn from past, from mind and heart.navigation