Prefacing Note…
On the other side of a full and eventful season of life, I/we return to this blog… and, more importantly, to a time and a space for a more reasonable rhythm of life and living.
In late September, I accepted an invitation to serve (through the end of the year) as interim pastor of First United Methodist in Quitman, Texas – reeling in the unexpected death of their pastor and friend, Rev. Mike Cline.
In October, my sister, Anne, died – succumbing to a combination of factors that included and were complicated by Huntington’s Disease. (Her death follows the death of my brother, Bob (who suffered from the same disease), a few years ago.)
In December, they found a lump amidst Kathy’s annual check-ups – turning January and February into a time of surgery… and some follow-up radiation. (She’s okay, by the way. If you’re going to get the cancer diagnosis, hers was among the kind you want to get–detected early, as it was. We’ll live – and with a deeper respect for each other and the gift of each day.)
Again, it is good to have fallen back into a more “normal” rhythm of life. Life was never meant to be lived at the pace into which too many have fallen and settled.
T.S. Eliots words ring in head and heart: “Where is the life we have lost in the living?”
As I write — here, at the beginning of another Holy Week, one passage comes to mind — recounting the myriad responses of Zamperini and his fellow POWs, as rumor of war’s end first circulated:
“Bad Eye” [the nickname for one of the guards] said something in Japanese, and Marvin [one of Zamperini’s fellow captives] wasn’t sure he understood. Marvin found a friend fluent in Japanese, pulled him into the room, and asked Bad Eye to repeat what he’d said.
“The war is over.”
Marvin began sobbing. He and his friend stood together, bawling like children.
The workers were marched back to camp. Marvin and his friend hurried among the POWs, sharing what Bad Eye had said, but not one of their listeners believed it. Everyone had heard this rumor before, and each time, it had turned out to be false. In camp, there was no sign that anything had changed. The camp officials explained that the work had been suspended only because there had been a power outage. A few men celebrated the peace rumor, but Louie and many others were anticipating something very different. [Rumors were rampant: of a coming bombing of the camp, of Japanese plans to annihilate all POWs in advance of any American invasion,…]
The POWs couldn’t sleep…
A few celebrated.
Still, most fretted over the rumors–
unable to sleep.
Overhearing and taking it all in,
I find myself musing and praying–
here, at the beginning of another Holy Week,
here, in a world caught in a perpetual rhythm of Good Friday and Easter,
here, in the shadowlands:
Restless nights
spent amidst the rumors
that victory’s won.
Prisoners of war are we all—
seeking full and final liberation.
In the in-between
of barb wire and open tomb,
when will we fully believe?
When will we finally dance?!
Yes, Lord, we believe.
Help, Thou, our unbelief!