The Shepherd is Here

The Shepherd is Here

I shall not lack…


And this seems to be key:  You are always enough in the present.

I am the one who runs ahead

into lack, who runs ahead

into fear and smacks my head sharp.

If Your Kingdom-spreading Presence is with me, for me, how could I lack?

You are HERE and that news is like spring water starting to run.  Fear drives me to lack as a frozen stream, stuck.  Your Presence heals my fear of not enough, my fear of new, my fear of the unknown skin-tearing judgment.

You are HERE. I shall not lack.


Sheep are dumb.  This is what I heard over and over in sermons.  But now I hear: “Sheep are simple.”

I AM simple to You.  You know my needs hidden and how to hands-open meet them in the here and where to hit the rock to see the water spill.

This awkward, leaping frog jump into the future was never made for me. I am simple.  I was meant to take measured steps, gathering starchy manna spread in front of me.

To deliberately live simple, to live one ear pressed up toward You



body brushing crook and rod,

pulled in close

to the Shepherd.

Summer Gross

Just A Sip

One of my favorite songs: I AM by Jill Phillips. Lyrics under the embedded YouTube clip


Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you
Like a mother while you rest
The tide can change so fast,
But I will stay
The same through the past,
The same in future, same today

I am constant; I am near
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears
I am holy; I am wise
I’m the only one who knows your heart’s desires
Your heart’s desires

Oh weary, tired and worn,
Let out your sighs
And drop that heavy load you hold
Cause Mine is light

I know you through and through;
There’s no need to hide
I want to show you love
That is deep and high and wide


Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you
Like a mother while you rest


Counting Thanksgivings with Ann:

Calvin’s Festival of Faith and Writing and Ann calling out prophets to speak Word and poetry to a world enamored with industry and smeared production.  I wept silently.

No more pain lingering, erased as if it never was

A clean floor, a friend spreading almond-scented straight-up gift across my dingy hardwoods.

New book for the children, the friendship and march for justice by Martin Luther King and Abraham Heschel.  A call to march out our anger, see the image of God in each.

Whole milk yogurt from the neighborhood store (!) to beef up children

April 23rd, anniversary of our first date, a walk through the white trilium and three years later, my saying yes, the beginning of the hard beautiful work of grace.





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