Poems for Sunday, August 24, 2025

Jeremiah 1:4-10, Hebrews 12:18-29, and Luke 13:10-17

Invited Still
after Jeremiah 1:4-10

I can think of a thousand reasons
why I cannot
welcome God’s vision for my life.

I look too young.
My past hangs heavy like an old, worn-out coat.
My daily clumsiness tumbles down—
an avalanche of mistakes
burying me in something more palpable
than shame.

Surely all this disqualifies me.

So I say:
“God, choose someone else.”

But God answers:
“I am with you.
Before your excuses were ever born,
I formed you with intention.
Before you measured your worth in failures,
I set in motion poetic potential.
I invite you still

into something bigger
than your narrow dreams.

Trust me."

---

Unshaken
after Heb. 12:18-29

I stand at Sinai’s shadow,
where Presence once consumed
and thunder split the sky.

Somewhere in memory
Abel’s blood still cries
from fractured ground.

I lift my gaze higher still—
toward the God who is a consuming fire,
the One who makes me tremble
yet calls me near.

I'm ever intrigued
and ever afraid.

All I have built—
even the loveliest things—
cannot survive the quaking times.
even Sinai will crumble,
mountains will fall,
but Jesus calls forth something forever.

And there it is—
a kingdom unshaken,
unbreakable grace,
the Voice that remakes.

---

Unmasked
after Luke 13:10–17

We cannot heal anyone
while hiding behind masks,
pretending to be holy
afraid of being seen.

See Jesus—
he walks uncovered,
his words unguarded,
his love clear as daylight.
He sees the daughter bent low,
he speaks freedom,
and she stands.

I want to be like Jesus—
to open the way to healing,
to come fully into the light,
to live as if mercy is
the truest law of God.

I want the Sabbath
to breathe again,
to be a day of life,
not a quiet death
disguised as holiness.