- “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” Rilke.
Prayer is a Place by Bob Grier
Where do I really
Want to go?
And in the going, arrive.
I wait, and my heart is drawn,
Like a magnet to true north,
Like a mother to it’s child’s cry,
Like a hungry man to the smell of simmering soup.
I see it, this place where He waits.
And being as He is,
The wait’s no hardship.
One day as a thousand, a thousand as one.
He knows where my going began.
Calls my heart,
Which beats to the song of His calling.
I arrive, and,
It’s as if,
I’d always been there.
There’s silence at first,
There is mercy in silence.
Trust develops,
Words come to heart,
Then mind,
Then to lips.
He looks at me as we talk,
His eyes never losing their focus,
or looking off into the distance.
His attention’s on my heart, too.
Then, my heart starts to speak the truth,
He’s been waiting to hear.
The truth hurts,
How many times have we heard that?
But can we find the courage to let it heal?
Our world shrinks down
To eyes and words,
An exchange is made,
A bargain struck,
My truth, His love.
My, love, His truth.
Now that I’ve been in that place,
I’ll always come back.
Our Hearts Cry
By Bob Grier
The cries of our hearts are heard.
Heard by the ears that listened to the crowd.
The crowd that heaped so much scorn.
Scorned the one that heard the Father.
The Father that was well pleased.
Pleased to send healing and health.
Health and healing was a person.
A person born human and for humanity.
Humanity could not hear.
Hear the words that could free.
Free us from the chains.
Chains that clanked in our ears.
Ears that could hear our own cries.
The cries of our hearts are heard.