God, we need to know You read us:
may she trust You see her heart tears;
let all affirm his honesty.
Weigh our attitudes, Holy Love:
scan each quiet mind at midnight;
hear her soul voice, observe his work.
God, we loathe fighting; hate losing
contact with You, People Lover.
Your grace guards us, brings out our best.
Stone-hearts hold sway; braggarts hold forth.
Step in, Master; step up for us.
We see Your face and rise in peace.
God, we turtle people need Your
diamond-solid transparent shell:
we minus You equals zero.
But heaven-tuned heroes tend Your
garden joyfully, free of mad
efforts to please designer gods.
You plant us in holy households,
nests lined with happy morning song;
through long nights Your wise voice whispers
Love. Yes, You, our true Contact Lens,
Steady Rudder, Life Preserver.
We swim in Your glad ocean currents.
Who is wholly with You, Holy One?
If we could find some truly good people,
sincere, kind, reliable, generous–
those people would always be at peace.
Are there any today? Where, Jesus?
God, You know my foolhardy heart.
You see our foolish impulses,
ways we delete You; we are all
online, cutting and pasting You,
thoughtless of the billion offline
families whose faint heart cries You hear.
Can I even hear my own heart?
Judging others, calling them fools
we negate Your loving wisdom.
All we do is fruitless, worthless;
without compass we veer, heartless.
Your human-foolish God power
crossed our hearts. Jesus, You are here:
You care for the poor; You will come.
You know my longing to be poor,
to drop out of the consumer
race, stop competing, stop living
like I have no need of You, God.
Remember that schoolyard game Mother May I? There were baby steps, giant steps, scissors steps (seems like I take a lot of those in life!), and maybe others. We each had to ask “Mother may I?” before taking any step, just as in Simon Says you only followed the direction when it was preceded by “Simon Says.” Maybe we enjoyed being the mother or Simon because it seemed godlike, and maybe being followers helped impulsive kids like me see the need for God’s ordering of my steps, as in a favorite hymn from the African-American tradition. Long before I learned that one, about the same time as I was playing “Mother May I?” one of my favorites that I still play on the piano occasionally was “Stepping in the Light.”
Paul, an early retiree friend, walks up to 40 miles a day. “Two days a week I only walk 10 miles,” he said yesterday; “a dead person could do that!” Jim and I walk around Greenbelt Lake once or twice a week and to the aquatic center another day or two. We’ll probably do some 10K Volksmarches again and occasional hikes with family and friends. All of our walks are under 10 miles. I hope we, and Paul, are not dead: I trust God is ordering our steps as the Spirit brings hymns and scriptures to mind. “Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:25).
Last week I had the privilege of attending (for the fourth time!) the biannual Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College (my alma mater). What heaven-on-earth joy to walk that lovely campus among old and new friends, students, writers famous or not, with “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path” singing our hearts together! As always I picked up new journals and books. One is CONVERsations: A Forum for Authentic Transformation. In the Spring/Summer 2010 issue Jeannette Bakke interviews Arthur Paul Boers on his book, The Way Is Made By Walking: A Pilgrimage Along the Camino de Santiago (same as in the movie The Way).
Two of my heroines are Peace Pilgrim who walked from 1953 till her death in 1981 promoting peace and Granny D. 
who walked cross-country promoting campaign finance reform. While most of us won’t spend our senior years walking coast-to-coast or take a 500 mile pilgrimage, we may cover that many miles on foot in a lifetime. Will it be only a rat-race or marathon? A walk in the park, a mountain hike? “O God, you are my God, and I will ever praise you. I will seek you in the morning, and I will learn to walk in your ways. And step by step you’ll lead me, and I will follow you all of my days.”
Holy One, how many years?
Are You gone from earth forever?
All-Seeing One, how many times?
Are Your eyes closed to hurting people?
Tender One, how many hours,
days, weeks, months must these wounds fester?
How many decades will violence rule?
Is Your name still LOVE? Let us know You care!
Give us hope before the system kills us;
aggressors chuckle at our fall.
Your name is LOVE ALWAYS.
We will dance in body-spirit joy
for Your constant generous gifts.
Good God, HELP! Your good people are gone!
Everybody lies, spins, paints, and brags.
Silence them, God-power beyond words.
YES, replies the Raised One. Yes, because
I see my children lured, raped, enslaved;
I hear homeless, hopeless people’s moans.
My Body will embrace and shield them.
My core truth radiates diamond pure.
YES, Great God over all gods: You rise
with, for, even in us to resist
opinions, fads, ambitions, slogans.
