Moments of Our Days


The days of our lives
And the moments of our days…

When the joy is exquisite.
Or the labor feels too much.

When the pain is bearable.
Or when it is excruciating.

The moments filled with thanksgiving and gratitude.
Those when our eyes seem blinded
to all that is good in us, others,
or our circumstances.
And we see only that which is
lacking in ourselves, others, or
our circumstances.

The moments of clarity.
And those rife with confusion.

The moments when our doubts roar.
And those when faith is all that
 keeps us moving.

The moments of our days,
amidst the days of our lives.
God inhabits them all.


Five Minute Friday: Thirteen


“Known. Loved.”
I am
completely known
and eternally,
and completely loved
by the Eternal God.

I have failed
and others repeatedly.
My God has never failed.

Life has obstacles.
There is One
true source of help
for each one.

My life
seems to be
an ongoing lesson
of learning to trust God.

I am joining the Five Minute Friday writing community, hosted by Kate Motaung, for our weekly writing adventure. Please click here to learn about Five Minute Friday. This week’s prompt is, “Thirteen.” I wrote four poems, each comprised of 13 words. The titles were added later and are not included in the word count.

Those who know, trust

“Trust in and rely confidently on the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own insight or understanding” (Proverbs 3:5, AMP).

“Trust Me.” Next to the words, “Do not fear,” “Trust Me,” are the words which God seems to say to me most frequently. No surprise here because the process of trusting my Father constantly and unwaveringly, in all seasons, is an ongoing lesson. Do I have any witnesses?

The original version of the poem below, “Those who know, trust,” was first published on this blog on March 16, 2015. Of the poems I have written, it is one of my favorites because it is an accurate depiction of my process of learning to trust my Father. I thought I would share this slightly revised version, with the hope that it encourages someone.

“Those who know, trust”

“I am with you always,”
The Eternal, Always-Existed One has promised.

Sometimes I stretch full out on His words,
like a home on its foundation.
Pull them up like a blanket,
to keep the chill of the unknown at bay.

At other times I inspect the words carefully,
as if He has a reputation for being untrustworthy.
Testing them like Mr. Beaver in “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,
tested the ice of the frozen river before trusting his weight to it.

But He is the unchanging One
and the distrust I sometimes feel is baseless,
an inheritance, as Ann Voskamp notes,
from the first ones created,
who heard a question and believed a lie.

So I reach for the antidote
bottled in Psalm 9:10,
“Those who know Your name trust in You, for You, LORD,
have never forsaken those who seek You.”

Your Name embodies Who You are.
Personal, intimate, growing knowledge of You
is the antidote to distrust.
Seeking to know You intimately must be my primary pursuit.
For those who know, trust.



Not history

I know the death of the four girls:
Addie Mae Collins,
Cynthia Wesley,
Carole Robertson,
Carol Denise McNair,
killed as a result of the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church
in Birmingham, Alabama
on September 15, 1963,
only as history.

But the murders of the nine adults:
Reverend Clementa Pinckney,
Reverend Sharonda Singleton,
Dr. Daniel L. Simmons,
Mrs. Ethel Lee Lance,
Mrs. Cynthia Hurd,
Ms. Myra Thompson,
Mrs. Susie Jackson,
Reverend DePayne Middleton-Doctor,
Mr. Tywanza Sanders,
murdered on Wednesday, June 17, 2015,
in the Emanuel AME Church,
in Charleston, South Carolina,
almost 52 years later
by the same weapons –
evil –
this is not history to me.
And their murders ushered in unexpected levels of grief
which seem to grow with each passing day.

For the spouses and children.
Siblings and grandparents.
Uncles and aunts.
All whose lives have been unequivocally changed.
Including my own.

“We have come,” wrote James Weldon Johnson,
“over a way that with tears has been watered,”
“We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered.”
Oh, God, why are we are still on this path more than half a century later?
“God, of our weary years,
God of our silent tears
Thou Who has brought us thus far on the way,”
Give us grace.
Give us strength.
Give us unwavering courage and resolve
to eradicate racism and prejudice from our own hearts.
And be instruments of Your peace, justice, and reconciliation in our broken world.

© E. Wright 2015


Used to refer to profound thoughts
To people seen as wise, reflective
Hues with rich tones

Also used for places
In the earth
In the waters
Which share the characteristic
Of having areas not visible on the surface
Or easily accessible

Also includes places You call us to
As in Your instruction to the disciples
“Launch out into the deep and let down your nets.”

Launch out – not associated with ankle deep water
It involves leaving where I am
Moving away from the shoreline
Letting go

Peter asked, “If it is You, bid me come to You.”
Unlike Peter, I am more likely to ask, “Can You come to where I am?
In the boat, hugging the shoreline
Or toes in the water, the rest of my body anchored securely on the shore

It is true that You do come to where I am
In the shallow water
Behind self-erected walls
In prison
In the pit
In relationships that are poisoning me
Food. Habits. People.

You do come but it is not to keep me company
But to lead me out into the