Octave of Peter and Paul - Day 7 - What?

The Fisherman and the Tentmaker

What is it to be a man?

To be bigger, stronger, louder?

To have brain, brawn, both?

What is it to be a leader?

To have responsibility, authority, right?

To see the way, to be the way?

What is it to be an apostle?

To listen, to follow, to serve?

To love, to know Love?

What is it to be a disciple?

To let go, to lose family, to find friends?

To come and see?

What is it to follow?

To be humble, meek, blessed?

To know him, to be his?

Blessed be.

wordinthehand2012

Octave of Peter and Paul - Day 5 - Blessing of Simon Peter

Blessing of Simon Peter

Blessing of the azure sunrise

over softly lapping waves

 a morning fire

of anticipation

Blessing of the noonday sun

across glittering currents of light

 the comforting somnolence 

of companionship

Blessing of the setting

in a rainbowed basin of light 

 the hands dipped

in thankfulness

Blessing of the fulsome moon

guarding dark clouds 

the shadowed waiting

of what may be

Blessed be

wordinthehand 2012

Octave of Peter and Paul - Day 4 - Stand up

Acts 9: 18

'something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up' 

There's a fine balance between fear and faith; especially in these times where the Way followers are being persecuted from all sides. We had been warned that Saul was on his way. His reputation leading the road; breathing murderous threats; reports that he held the cloaks clear of the dust and blood as Stephen was stoned to death. That a stone would have missed it's mark and found another...that Saul would be the one laying cold in the ground.

I prayed; I am not a brave man. Forgive me, Lord. That is not your way. O Abba, send your Kingdom; deliver us from evil. I prayed until I fell to my knees. And heard His voice asking me to go to this monster; to bring him both the gift of the Holy Spirit and the price that must be paid.

By myself I could not have done it; could no more have left the shelter of my own lintel than walked a pace on Straight Street.  Then the Lord shifted my yoke onto his shoulder and near dragged me the length of the way. 

At the threshhold He left me. In prayer I wrapped his strength around me as a cloak. This was my leap of faith; my moment of being the prophet; my angelic act.

A breath and I was within -  the coolness of the shadows like a blanket covering  the silhouette of a man bound in prayer as I had been not an hour since. Another step and I was at his side as a brother, holding his head against my chest.  My tears baptised him as his own tears took the scales from his eyes  and fell into the healing earth. 

In my fear, I had wished Saul dead and the Lord had taken my prayer and healed us both. Together we stood up.

In Jesus' name

wordinthehand2012