Tag: hope

Empty Nets

Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.”
They said to him, “We also will come with you.”
So they went out and got into the boat,
but that night they caught nothing.
When it was already dawn, Jesus was standing on the shore;
but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus.
Jesus said to them, “Children, have you caught anything to eat?”
They answered him, “No.”
So he said to them, “Cast the net over the right side of the boat
and you will find something.”
So they cast it, and were not able to pull it in
because of the number of fish.
—John 21:1-19

When all we knew was lost and gone,
our world unsettled as the wave,
still, wonder met us with the dawn:
We looked into your empty grave.

We sail now as we've always sailed,
but all our nets come empty back—
yet we recall the baskets filled,
abundance you brought from our lack.

Our hunger you turned to a feast,
and even death you turned to life.
But we must go on restless seas:
Can you bring peace out of our strife?

A voice cries, “Cast your nets once more.”
We do, though we have fished all night—
and you are standing on the shore
and all the world is new and bright.

Now all that had been emptied out
is filled with more than it can hold.
The long night of our dread and doubt
pours forth the morning turning gold.

And there you stand, the Son of God,
inviting us to break our fast,
in restless seas our solid rock,
our certainty and home at last.

Painting by Henry Ossawa Tanner, circa 1913 – Google Arts & Culture — LAHsSESclImgWA, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=71770460

Beacon

When my weary soul is aching
with the burden on me laid,
and I lose the road I'm taking
in the fading of the day,

light a beacon where you dwell here.
I'll lay down my heavy load
where you light shows me a shelter:
I will rest here from the road.

Lord, I know my way's been easy—
I'm not meaning to complain.
Nonetheless, my heart is bleeding:
Will you leave me in my pain?

For you travelled here before me
with no place to lay your head,
yet I'll find you in the morning
standing sentry by my bed.

Though I lay me down in shadow,
though I cannot find the light,
let me find your peaceful meadow
in the stillness of the night.

As you blessed the loaves and fishes
so your people could go on,
bless the coffee and the dishes
in the light of one more dawn.

Give me courage for the journey;
give me hope for journey's end.
Keep your beacon in me burning
when the darkness comes again.

Arkadi Monastery / Moni Arkadiou. Lamp in the church By Wouter Hagens – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4170241

Morning Star

Moreover, we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.
—2 Peter 1:19

It sits just below the horizon,
steadfast as we're losing the light;
what changes the world at its rising
now waits for the coming of night.

And we who have waited in darkness
and watched as the light fades away,
we see even now the first stars out
with us keeping vigil for day.

As midnight draws nearer and nearer
the shadows grow deeper than deep,
but in them we see all the clearer
the longing that draws us from sleep

to wait with a hushed expectation
that knows every shadow must pass
the gleam of the world's restoration,
the light breaking on us at last.

And all who have waited to see it
cry out with the strength it imparts,
“Shine out, holy light, from your zenith!
O morning star, rise in our hearts!”

Venus is always brighter than the brightest stars outside the Solar System, as can be seen here over the Pacific Ocean, Photo By Brocken Inaglory – File:Venus with reflection.jpg, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5223759

Axes

Will you, O God, look on my days with favor
and bless the feeble faithfulness you see
with mercy for the thousandth generation,
as graces from my forebears came to me?

Will you behold my striving with your kindness
and witness all my efforts from above?
The consequences of my self-made blindness
will you withhold from those I dearly love?

Or will you let the axes I have sharpened,
that I let fly, fall earthward as they will?
I fear them not, O Lord: My heart is hardened,
but how can I not fear that they may kill?

But if you will, reach out your heand from heaven
and turn all my destructive ways aside.
What I have loosed, bind into your indenture;
where I have prisoned, throw the portals wide!

Yet you will not, until the trump has sounded,
turn anyone aside from his own sense.
Instead you stand, unweaponed love unbounded,
and let the axes fall upon yourself.

Lord, I would be a blessing to my children,
as I am blessed by those who came before.
Then let me bear with patience all that kills me
and stand beside you here forevermore.

~ “He who does not keep peace shall lose his hand.” By Photo: Andreas Praefcke – Own work own photograph, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=169895

Living Waters

From spring to river streams will go,
and rivers to the sea,
and when the living waters flow,
Lord, let them rise in me.

For I have thirsted these long days
while fountains run no more,
and now bone-dry I wait for pain—
Somewhere your waters pour.

Like sentinels await the dawn,
I wait for clouded skies,
for rivers rolling ever on,
for fallen waves to rise,

for creeks to laugh until they weep,
for cataracts to shout.
I know that deep calls out to deep
while I sit here in drought.

But you, who closed in doors the sea,
set hills not to be moved,
if you have closed these doors in me,
Lord, let me call it good.

Is this the fasting that you wish?
Not to my name but yours 
be all the glory, even if
the waters never pour.


Niagara Falls, from the American Side (Frederic Edwin Church, 1867) – qQE5jAFm16XHjQ at Google Cultural Institute maximum zoom level, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21865696

Love

 Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, [love] is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
—1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Give me love's patience, Lord my God,
when mine is wearing thin,
and let it whisper in my heart 
that I have been forgiv'n,
and then love's kindness I will learn
and love's humility
when I have known you will not turn
your love away from me.

Give me the love that hopes all things
when fear says hope is gone,
that knows the Spirit spreads bright wings
o'er every coming dawn,
that bears all things and still believes
that we can be made new,
that can endure the world of griefs
and still rejoice in you.

Beyond all I desire or need,
far, far above all else,
this greatest mercy grant to me:
Give me your very self.
You are the source of all my hope;
you are the end thereof.
All other things are but to know
that you, O God, are love.

Christ Child in the Sacred Heart, Between 1475 and 1480, By Anonymous – https://www.nga.gov/content/ngaweb/Collection/art-object-page.3738.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62473824

At Last

As sentinels wait for the dawn
and wonder if day will arrive,
or if they have strength to go on,
we wait for your mercy, O Christ.

When they who have waited so long 
can finally lift up their heads
and see justice righting the wrongs
and peace at last comfort the dead.

For over the fields of our wars
she spreads out the shade of her wings,
the graves that will hold us no more
where paupers lie buried with kings,

and they who have fallen will rise
and sinews will cover dry bones.
The Spirit will fill them with life
and all that was hidden be known.

But when is it coming, that day
when mercy and truth hand-in-hand
shall lay down their straight, level way?
The promised land waits at its end.

Remember your promise, O Lord,
your covenant made ages past.
Come, turn all the earth with bent swords
and replant your garden at last.

13th century depiction of a ploughing peasant, Royal Library of Spain By Baudouin d’Arras – photographie, travail personnel, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3837028

Lilies

Learn from the way the wild flowers grow.
They do not work or spin.
But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor
was clothed like one of them.
If God so clothes the grass of the field,
which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow,
will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?
So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’
or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’
All these things the pagans seek.
Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness,
and all these things will be given you besides.
Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.
Sufficient for a day is its own evil.

—Matthew 6:24-34

Don't worry for tomorrow,
but let it go its way.
Sufficient is the sorrow
that comes in every day.

This one has got its evils
enough for you to meet.
Your sowing and your reaping
cannot delay its grief.

Then let your hands be open,
come laughter or come dread;
your reaping and your sowing
shall be your daily bread.

Consider well the lilies,
how gorgeous they appear:
Not all the threat of winter
can make them bow to fear.

Though to the year they've fallen
and faded into death,
they know the spring is coming,
and they shall rise again.

And so their blossoms open
that cannot last the day,
their hope forever sowing
beyond the leaves that fade.

François Barraud: Nature morte de fleurs aux lys, 1934 – http://www.sikart.ch/ImgRenderer.aspx?id=6004010, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10277705

Hold Fast

O God, who made the mountains firm,
the earth not to be moved,
when we are shaken by the storm,
oh, shelter us in you.

The mountains bow to winds above;
the hills wear down at last.
Help us to hold fast to the love
that always holds us fast.

The seas that held beneath your feet
or stood as walls of waves,
are rising up now, swift and steep,
to carry us away.

Upon their peaks or in their depths
or swallowed by the whale:
Wherever we shall find ourselves,
your love will find us there.

What mother could forsake her child
or father could forget?
But if they did, our hopes, our lives,
would be in your hands yet.

Though we may walk through fire and flood,
through want and pain and fear,
oh, let us hold fast to your love
and find you ever near!

Mount Everest, Earth’s highest mountain By I, Luca Galuzzi, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1810976

Seed of Hope

When I grow weary with my days

that never seem to bear your fruit,

Lord, lead me to some sheltered place

where new life stirs in leaves and shoots.



And when I sink down on that ground,

give me the strength to plant my seed,

to let its hidden roots reach out

and grow again your hope in me.



Although I cannot see it thrive

while buried in the ground it sleeps,

teach me to trust the source of life

that hope is stirring in the deeps.



Though what I plant is all too small

for everything tomorrow needs,

you made both the seed and soil.

You bless the bread, and thousands eat.



So if I cultivate this hope,

though I may water it with tears,

it is your harvest I will grow

to feed the joy of coming years.



O Lord of bounty, nourish me

with days of sun and days of rain.

Call all I have into your feast

and grow your hope in me again.

Phone photography. Birth of life. Seedling of unidentified plant By akshatsgi – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=74067396