Today while proofreading my fourth new book for this year, Psalms of My Harvest, I went over a poem that was somewhat of a segue to my forthcoming fifth book, Sage Brushings, which I was preparing to hand over to production. (Of course, I ended up editing it again! Please be patient with me.)
Truly I often feel like that look-alike, dangerous tumbleweed which is simply a
facsimile of the hearty, rooted, commendable sagebrush. The
tumbleweed is out of control and is blown anywhere at the mercy of the wind. It can easily catch on fire in its dry stage and threatens
nature and human life. I must be careful not to ignite my own
self-flame, also to avoid senseless burnout which blesses no one.
Burning
Bush
Burning
bush yet not consumed,
Lord,
I would be. But generally
my
lifestyle seems
more
like burnout to me.
My
frantic pace emanates
a
glow of sorts but hollow
mostly
my own aura
of
heat and sweat that repels
not
draws others to follow.
Often
consumed by my own ambition
weary
and depleted from speaking
my
own words in my own strength
sometimes
at length but with no effect,
I
don't think, Lord, that's what You meant
when
You ignited that plant in the desert.
Wasn't
it to show that You speak to man
through
any means You choose?
That
You can use the ordinary
fired
by Your power
yet
not altering intrinsic identity?
That
You can express Your might through
something
rooted in an unlikely spot
or
even through a tumbleweed like me
blown
about by my unceasing activity?
Burning
bush, yet not consumed, Yes, Lord
I
want to be. Go ahead and work on me
so
I can be Your spokesman and You
can
manifest Your flaming words through me.
****
“And
the angel of the Lord appeared to him[Moses] in a blazing
fire
from the midst of a bush, and he looked, and behold,
the
bush was burning with fire, yet the bush was not consumed.”
(Exodus
3:2-5)
No comments:
Post a Comment