A Fine Line

A fine line it is
between fear and trust
peace and panic…
crossed it many times,
back and forth…
privately

Fear and Trust …
my next door neighbors
whichever way I am facing…
the other one is right behind me
it is a very short continuum…
a fine line

Left to my own devices...
in my foolishness…
I visit fear
and dwell there…
though it has never been a friend…
For we know…
that perfect fear
casts out love…
Your love…
and I most certainly know …
that Your love
has always been my Friend

In my weakened state of trust…
fear is more familiar to me,
more logical
than trust…
which is not natural,
and uncomfortable,
risky…
vulnerable
Trust, it seems,
must be grown…
developed…
chosen…
a muscle,
so to speak,
stretched…
strengthened…
tested,
proven

I must choose…

in Your strength…
to move away from fear
and move in with Trust
permanently
regardless of the neighborhood
of circumstances around me

Lord
in your grace…
strengthen my trust…
distance me from fear…
turn me
again
to face You…
in Trust
where I find peace
in You…
my open Door
to freedom
from …
fear

Patricia Spreng

Written in March of 2010 just prior to my husband’s brain surgery.   We give thanks today for the successful removal of the benign tumor.

Sharing with Jennifer at Getting Down With Jesus

Lord, have mercy...

Her eyes wide with want, I bent over the bed and into her hug.  

This mother woman child reaching for me with fingers wiry, mangled.

Reaching still, with both hands.... for touch, any touch.

I held my cheek next to hers and lingered. 

A stranger to me, yet I know her well.  

Taking both hands in mine, I am undone.

I block thoughts of my own mother’s last days. 

My heart strings fall like the strands of hair across her face, loose in resignation.

She is close.  Where are her children?   

So softly,  I stroke her forehead and sweep those strands out of her eyes.  

Cradling her cheek as though she were my  own. 

And there, in her hands, her last possession…  a string of colorful wooden beads. 

The kind she would have strung,  like strings of popcorn for a Christmas tree. 

Is she counting memories, or moments passed? 

Feeling  the roundedness of tactile time slipping through her hands.  

Uncurling her fingers, I find your cross embedded in the grip of her hand. 

This rosary, her final comfort. 

Oh Lord, have mercy. 
Your gift of life. 
Your gift of death.

Patricia Spreng

I found it no coincidence that the recent meditation below from Henri Nouwen helped me understand exactly what I could not say....

Solidarity in Weakness

Joy is hidden in compassion. The word compassion literally means "to suffer with." It seems quite unlikely that suffering with another person would bring joy. Yet being with a person in pain, offering simple presence to someone in despair, sharing with a friend times of confusion and uncertainty ... such experiences can bring us deep joy. Not happiness, not excitement, not great satisfaction, but the quiet joy of being there for someone else and living in deep solidarity with our brothers and sisters in this human family. Often this is a solidarity in weakness, in brokenness, in woundedness, but it leads us to the center of joy, which is sharing our humanity with others.

Henri Nouwen

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.                               

God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort.  

He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others.

2 Corinthians 1: 3-4

Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer (sung by Patricia Spreng with accompaniment track)
(lyrics and music by Keith & Kristin Getty)


I'm headed over to Deidra's place at Jumping Tandem to join the worship there... care to join me?

Last Call

Those words spoken
before ‘good bye’
lingered long…
stowaways

fed by morsels
of rewind, replay, remind
daily…
yearly, now

some things never change

except when

those words spoken
before ‘good bye’
are breathed upon the air
released from spirit to Spirit

carried away by winds

of change

patricia spreng

Boundary Lines

what would they say
if boundary lines could talk
of first steps taken

in courage
fear
ignorance
foolishness
confidence
faith

what would they say
if boundary lines could talk
of first steps regretted

patricia spreng

joining d'Verse Poetics where you will find the wonderful words of poets.