On Inching Back


I do not know how to open my palms. Wide enough

I manhandle the gift. Fumble and finger with all thumbs.

At least I’m seeing clearer. Now. I think.

At least I believe You will my good. Again.

I see where the translation erred, where words were misplaced.

Where I read between the lines You drew. My words to You slip out

in sighs and silences

And I am

all ears now. And thumbs still really.

But You are working with all I’ve got

For now.

Thank You.

On Reading God Between the Lines
On Being "Punk'd" by God
On Being a Silly Naive Christian
On Jesus Sightings Beyond the Jello