if ever there was a time. a poem.

never seen anything like it in all my life
the man in the ball cap said
coffee steam rising
floating over Main Street
even as flood waters receded
still

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the only way I could get out of town was the old highway
his buddy said
then gulped down a scorching swig of his own bean juice

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hard to find those old highways
these days
we’ve strayed so far from the grace of
worn tried and true paths

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if ever there was a time for groaning
it is
now
for a way out of town
a way to dodge
the bullets

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the crescendoing groan for Eden
for weeping in the streets to be of joy and
not lament

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if ever there was a time to groan
it is now
for no other sound captures the rending of hearts except that
perhaps of a mourning dove
unassuming prophet
perched on a rooftop in the early hours

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even the rocks
carved with names
(((too soon)))
etched
cry out

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mercy
mercy
mercy

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“Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him . . . “
Job 13:15 NIV

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discovered

Do you see it?

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There, in the great, marbled, dusty hunk of rock.

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Can you see it?

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Look again.

I tell you, it’s there.

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I see you shaking your head.

Maybe you don’t have the eye for it.

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He did.

My Grandpa Joe.

Nearly 96, he’d be, if he hadn’t left the earth one year ago today.

For a large part of a century, he hounded out designs.

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Beauty.

The essential curve of a prehistoric layer of sediment which, if cut and carved and polished just so, would turn into a treasure.

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A portrait.

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A scene.

Mountains with a river, running wild and rushing, through the middle of a lush and fertile valley.

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And so I ask again, do you see it?

What The Maker sees . . .

. . . in YOU?

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No mishmash of petrified scree.

No haphazard flecks of sediment sealed by heat and pressure and pain.

Just dreams, wild with hope and waiting to take flight, like wild geese over land and lakes, wings hugging and trusting the invisible wind.

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So let Him shape you.

Let Him cut away the raw and unruly edges.

Let Him hone in on the beauty, the gift, the treasure that you are.

Waiting.

To be discovered.

By The Craftsman.

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This blog post is dedicated to my grandpa, Joseph Kossack, who passed on this day, February 13, 2012. He carved all the stones in these photographs, and tens of hundreds more. Cabochons. Faceted gems. You name it. In addition to being a fisherman, he was a rock hound, as they’re called. And most of the stone in these photos are chalcedony, also known as “crazy lace.” If you know your rocks, you’ll also notice turquoise and cat’s eye in the bunch.

Grandpa Joe passed one day shy of Valentine’s Day last year.

We like to think he picked this day so he could make it to Heaven in time to spend the 14th with my grandma.

Mary Jane.

Soulmates since grade school.

She’s long been saving a seat for him.

And I’m sure she had a note ready.

Tucked between folds of a waxy, transparent envelope.

Still warm from the press of her lips upon its seal.

Beauty for ashes.

Amen.

one word for 2013

depth

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That’s it.

That’s my one word for 2013.

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depth: noun \ˈdepth\

a part that is far from the outside or surface (3) : abyss 2b (1) : a profound or intense state (as of thought or feeling); also : a reprehensibly low condition (2) : the middle of a time (as winter) (3) : the worst part 4: the degree of intensity ;; also : the quality of being profound (as in insight) or full (as of knowledge) 5: the quality or state of being complete or thorough ; : beyond the limits of one’s capabilities

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Like 2012, I don’t know why God might be pressing this word upon my heart, but I have my hunches.

See, I’ve heard it said scientists know more about space than they do about the unexplored, unreachable caverns of the sea. Places where unknown creatures wait to be discovered. Places so deep and under so much pressure, even the latest technology cannot probe there.

Places which–if I’m honest–parallel places in my heart and soul which hide from Him.

Places which, if I let Him in . . .

. . . if I let Him in . . .

. . . well, I guess I can’t say for sure what would happen.

But I’m willing to find out.

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“In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him.” Psalm 95:3

“Out of the depths I cry to you, LORD…” Psalm 130:1

“If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” Psalm 139:8

“They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths; in their peril their courage melted away.” Psalm 107:26

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What about you?

What’s your “one word” for 2013?

And why?

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