At 5:30 A.M.

 

An awakening: into steady loss

Dreams escaping into the darkness before dawn

Beloved voice cut short, echoing in the void

To a bereaved daughter, groping

Her way past slumbering husband and child

To a lamplit corner in the pulpit shadow of her father

Cold apparition reaching beyond the grave

Promising all he had failed to give her

Had given to countless others in passing

Like confetti, in deliberate clerical abandon,

Overlooking the child craving him, idolizing

With all the passion of the forgotten lonely.

 

She sat now in disciplined lamplight

Opening the Scripture chapter by chapter

As if to uncover the key to all mythologies

Of the patriarch, under headstone, after all these years

By her alone lamented, having rested in the peace

He had never thought to reveal to her, to say to her,

That she by grace had a Father who chapter by chapter

Spoke to her His love, a Father who would never fail her.

 

Many times I think of her172px-StAlbansFiveDock_StainedGlass_JesusKnock

And many times in prayer

Many times I’ve wept for her

Wondering through the years

If she ever heard the still small voice

That called her in the dawn

The voice of our dear Savior

Each day

At 5:30 A.M.

 

 

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20 ESV) 

 

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