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In this season of busy and quiet, almost and not yet, sparkles and shadows, I share with you this poem from Meta Herrick Carlson (www.metaherrickcarlson.com).
May we remember that God is growing new life even now. Yes, even now.
There's Room in the Chariot
Creation begins with a breath,
the Spirit’s wind moving
over waters and the deep.
Not only once and long ago,
but time and again, through
every chapter of formless void.
She blows through limits
and less than’s to declare
what should be, a symphony of Both:
light and darkness, dawn and dusk!
Chrome and compass of
God’s manifold image,
the treasures of darkness aglow.
Male and female, the fullness of being,
so good and enough from the start.
Creation begins with a breath,
snuffing out candles of category,
claims about who can tell it slant,
who can bear the full weight
of the Word made flesh.
Can you hear Elizabeth’s blessing?
She flings the door so wide and hard
the hinges wince! Her bold voice
is prophetic delight for every ear
while the men nearby remain quiet -
silent, sleeping, and not yet sure.
Can you hear Mary laughing?
It shakes her belly and her thighs,
it rumbles in her muscles and her milk.
She has felt the full weight
and she let him go for the whole world.
There is room in the chariot
for the full spectrum of beauty
still unfolding, still breathing, still blurring
harsh lines of gentile and gender
like watercolors expanding,
taking up space and announcing
new life even now. Even now!
We honor these anniversaries as
fifty years of Jubilee,
forty years of Wilderness,
ten rules on tablets,
a vision of expectations
broken and reborn.
We worship the God who begins with breath,
who anoints leaders anyway
and without our permission, the One who
raises dry bones and blesses the whole body
with more than we dared to ask or imagine.
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