Matthew 13:44-46; Luke 15

And there it was –
     Clear
          Glistening in the sand
              A precious jewel
                   Once lost
                        Dis-covered once again.

It took a little cleaning up
     Once it was found,
          But lo! – there it was.

Sometimes those precious jewels
     Which ornament our lives
          With glistening beauty
               Are lost to our perception
                    From the layers
                         Of caked mud
                              Encrusted round
                                   Their glistening
                                        Facets

But that’s just mud –
    And though a little bothersome
         It’s really
             Nothing
                  To be bothered by,

For all that is removed
     Is sight,
         As they,
              With all their preciousness
                    Pass from our view
                         And look to
                              Us and others
                                   As indeed
                                        They are –
                                             Just mud.

For from that clay
     We come,
          Are fed,
               And of this clay remain.

But precious is
     Each earthen jar
          With spirit filled;
               Not any spirit
                    But the one
                         Long years ago
                              Entwined,
                                   Admixed,
                                        With all those other attributes
                                             Which make up
                                                   Human
                                                         Life.

Not only that –
     But also mixed with Spirit
          Of the one
               Who made
                     This precious
                          Earth –

Yes Earth –
     Same earth
          Which crusted
               Up the facets
                    Of that
                         Jewel.

Same Earth –
     Which amplifies,
          Supports,
               And fills our lives
                    With joy as we en-joy
                         With firmness
                              All its
                                   Wondrous
                                        Ways.

Now comes the Dawn
     As life renews for most –
          Most birds sing out
               Their early morning
                    Songs,

But not for all –
     For death is part of life,
          That life might move along.

               But best that life not claim
                    Too early
                         Those of us
                              Who still
                                    Have days,
                                         And weeks,
                                              And months,
                                                   And years,
                                                        To live.

But death –
     With all its endings,
          Is a precious part
               Of all our lives;
                    Bejeweled with tears
                         Wrought from the depths
                               Of joyous life together
                                    For a spell.

We get a chance –
     No guarantees –
          But all in all
               Sufficient chance
                    To play a part
                          In life’s long chain
                              Which flows
                                   To generations
                                        Yet to come.

Lord,
     Thanks for this –
          That though the coin,
               The jewel,
                    The son,
                          Be lost –
                               They're only lost
                                    Apparently,
                                         And not to you –

And in those days
     When even we
          Can’t seem to see
               The road we're on –
                    You see –

And know,
     And hold us in Your hands,
          And care –
               And send
                    For us
                         Some
                              Unpretentious
                                   One –

To fetch us
     From between some cushioned lair,
               Some mud-encrusted field,
                         Some rain-soaked hillside ledge –

Returning us
     To vibrant circulation of our valued life;
               Adorning role, enhancing life that otherwise seems bleak;
                        Or social place, in network of our precious kith and kin.

Lord,
Thanks for this.

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