Slow Jesus
I was slow on the boat in the Galilee storm
I was slow on the way to Martha and Mary
Dead slow for Lazarus
I was slow to find my parents
On the way home from the temple
I was slow to start my ministry
I was slow to make the wedding wine
I was slow to save the thief on the cross
I waited til his dying day
I was slow on the way to calvary
I was slow to die
I was slow to answer Pilate
I was slow to wake my disciples
In the blood bath of gethsemane
I am slow to answer your prayers
I am slow to save your prodigals
I am slow to stop your sinning
I am slow to come back
Through thousands of years
Of degradation in My Word
Twisting to make lies true
I am slow to stop the wars
I am slow to feed the starving children
I am slow to correct the corrupt
I am slow to stop the killing of innocent babies
Do you know the method
Of my maddening slowness?
You don’t do you.
Yes, surely I am slow.
Dare you argue with me?
Dare you challenge my timing?
Dare you anger at your failed marriages?
Your broken relationships Your disappearing dreams?
Do you see what I see?
You and I, in that moment,
When this hell is ended?
That is what I see.
The hell of this life ended.
Then, in our consummate glory
When all is completed
When every broken moment.
Rerooting the tops of our heads
Sculpting our bodies
And girding our rolls
To draw in the precious
Life blood of love
How do we find God?
It is a bad question
A better question is
How does He find us
Or why?
Or when?
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Poem 48
I'm in the yard
Poem 49
He would have been given
An imagination