Still Making Contact

Still Making Contact Pandemic Notwithstanding Copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo ON, 2020 April

https://feerfoild.blogspot.com/2020/03/taking-this-hill.html

Wondering I wonder just how This strange virus came The stores and the homes Had all seemed the same.

The families and school kids Went through their routine

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Until news and government Showed a new scene.

Of hospitals racing Of groceries sprayed Of parents with jobs closed And students delayed Of banks gone to on-line The sweet tellers missed Of family in Rest Homes Can’t even be kissed.

But faith sees new inroads As tense families pray And worship with videos This new Sabbath day.

And letters and phone calls Like never before.

Since love, hugs and helping Can’t enter your door. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7T9q7NH8XY&t=22s This script brings up a video to my Mom Bev Blair in residence

Touching the Hem

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He couldn’t possibly see me, hear me. Such a crowd here, and all struggling for his attentions.

But I am sick, sick to death of my condition.

Humiliating, unstoppable bleeding.

Separating me in my embarrassment from the community, the family and the Temple.

Doctors have no answer. Past hopes and let-downs plague my memory. Money almost all gone.

Oh, but the news of this Galilean and his willingness to help and heal. Must be of God. I hear that no one is disappointed. All is excitement and hope. Why not my hope

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too?

I awoke this morning with a strange urging.

Today was going to be different. The sunshine seemed a little more poignant.

The birds a little more musical. I couldn’t explain it. I hadn’t heard anything yet about our Visitor. But something was up. Then came sounds of commotion down the street.

People shouting “Jesus, have mercy”. Yes mercy. I had almost forgotten about that.

For me faith and the divine had gradually become like a dark cloud of sternness and

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obligation. I had felt myself beyond hope.

Woman on the outside, looking in wistfully.

But as the crowd passed by I caught a glimpse of His face. No irritation, panic or haughtiness. He was looking, really looking at the people with the expression of One getting down to business, heartfelt business.

Without another thought I joined the throng. They wouldn’t notice me. I had the strangest inclination to draw near, to touch His garment. Would He notice me?

I reach out. There, done. It seems like some strange accomplishment. But look, he stops;

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He is turning around. I feel different. Oh Jesus‌

Labels

compassion

gems in Luke

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Joy

Medicinal

A Changed Church Militant

Shut out of the church building? Missing the up close, warm and personal engagement with faith siblings. Forget the lawsuits over right of assembly in Florida. We have a role to play in this mos t important widespread health crisis.

Yesterday, Saturday, our short drive showed us almost no people on the streets. The grocery store had an exemplary approach to monitoring head count inside; to one-way aisles; to six foot spacing everywhere; to plexiglass shielding of dedicated cashiers; to the sweet tonic of courtesy and smiles.

We the Church must not give up on the essentials, encouragement, prayer and praise. We have extraordinary on-line means of communication. We have the unbeatable, creative Holy Spirit indwelling us, the Word of Life, Peace and Hope, perhaps in several translations, and with columnar cross-references.

We are being forced here to approach again the prayer closet, the delicious pauses for meditation, the meek attempts at song in a lonely room or terrace, the writing of a heart-warming letter (God bless those postal workers).

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On the other side of this COVID19 thing there will be the fruit of all of our reverent and contrite wondering. A greater vitality in house gatherings, in street witness, in hospital visitation, in simple care packages or phone calls. In the universal priesthood of the believers and the stepping back graciously in the “professionals”. In effect a much needed departure from all of those seeker-sensitive gimmicks and strategies. A relieving return to simple, considerate Godly life and community, as in the Book of Acts. Hear, oh please hear, the poem linked here, and the altered point of view: https://momentsmidstream.blogspot.com/2011/12/just-jesus-there.htm l https://momentsmidstream.blogspot.com/2012/05/he-just-wants-strai ght-answer.html https://momentsmidstream.blogspot.com/2011/11/revelation.html

Downy Posted on ​April 3, 2020

Tap tap tap tap. While I was just shaving. The bugs in the tree bark

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His morning delight. He sends now the message, this telegraph tapper.

I’m back from the south lands. Is everything right?

The streets they are empty. No kids rush to school. The grass now is greening. The mourning doves coo.

I can’t get the message. How now to exhort. These neighbours are nervous. Where hides good report?

The mailman he’s happening. The garbage trucks too. The skies springing sunny. Those robins trot through.

But I bring a message. Percussion so dear. And speaking to rhythms for this time of year.

Rejoice my dear humans. There’s plenty to eat. And I need your welcome on this humbled street.

By something you’re bothered. Your patterns are lost. No getting together. No ball gaily tossed.

As I take to winging. So closer comes God. Friends you have your singing of Psalms over-awed.

Easy to panic When will this end?

Can’t really gather Face to some friends Hospitals frantic Newspapers’ gloom

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Children now school-less They race room to room.

Jobs on the shelf now Workplaces still.

Lord can this measure With your matchless will?

Still we find courage Song script and prayer Small bits of goodwill We spread everywhere.

Thank you, Ron DiCianni for your sensitive paintings

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