Watershed Online

Vine Stylesheet

I don't know about you, but I often sleep walk through my days. Eyes are dulled and life becomes nothing more than what is before me, two dimensional and devoid of spirit. It's a malady that I suspect afflicts us all at different times. Happily, I have not been left alone, for I have a friend who keeps waking me up, showing me that there's a world even in a grain of sand, to use the words of the 18th century poet William Blake. Writing is this friend. Blake's idea was that every object or event points beyond itself to a transcendent meaning. The discipline of writing has helped me "take another look" at what crosses my path, speaking to me in a deeper voice and bringing life back to my eyes. My hope is that as you read poems, mine or anyone's, you too will share in the gift of wakefulness.

On a recent Sunday morning meeting, we looked at the passage of the master and servant (Luke 17:7-10). In it, Jesus says to see ourselves as servants who accept his humble station, not as the master who expects to be waited on hand and foot. This poem confesses that I usually see myself as a master. Becoming a servant is God's healing of me.

When I Was The Master

When I was the master
I always felt depleted,
Though I worked hard, I craved
comfort above all else.
When faced with a fork in the road
I listened to the voice of entitlement,
the one that asked, "What do you deserve?"
and chose the road marked "Me".
My highest calling was to develop my skills.
It all boiled down to my benefits.
When I was the master,
I became a slave.

Did I choose or was I chosen?
I don't know but one day
my shackled life ended.
Myself no longer the highest goal,
I became a servant instead.
Sights set on another,
I had nothing, yet I had everything.
Every need provided for
and every situation an opportunity
for life roots to dig deeper
in ancient soil.

It was a shift in perspective.
Nothing was ever the same again.

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