Jesus, what in the world?
“Whatever you ask in my name, I
will do….” John 14:13
Jesus, what in the world do you
mean?
I’ve asked for so much, asked so
many times.
But now as I think of it, haven’t
you said
the times of fulfillment, unknown
to us now,
are all in the Father’s command,
all integral parts of His heavenly
plan?
Ah, yes, Love, tread lightly this beautiful earth.
You’re learning to trust in the wisdom of God,
to grasp that God’s timing, God’s bringing to birth
is part of the answer. So leave all with God.
We’re taking good care of every request
that comes from the center of your heart at rest
in the will of your Maker, Redeemer and Guide.
But that qualifies it, Lord. What
of the rest?
The request in great anguish: Is
that not heard too?
Will that not be answered? Is that
not of You?
Requests made in anguish are heard straightaway,
just as my cries from the Garden, the Cross,
were heard and were answered so gloriously.
But that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t go through
all the Father intended, all I came to do.
When I said, “It is finished,” I had yet to die.
So, commending myself to the Father on High,
I let it all go, let the answer unfold.
Now, Daughter, be bold in your asking of God.
Just know that that the timing, the ways and the means
must conform to the plan to confirm you in grace.
To “ask in my name” means to ask in my place,
in the likeness of Christ and reflecting my face.
Then my Spirit will come like morning dew
and awaken Creation to answer you.
May 18, 2019
I amuse myself with the rhythm and rhyme scheme of this
poem. An exalted subject worthy of the most stately treatment, it has come to
me primarily in anapestic tetrameter, often used for whimsical verse (“T’was
the night before Christmas, when all through the house”), and with an
increasingly childish, singsong rhyme scheme—not at all what I would have
expected. But maybe that’s part of the message that the answers we seek so
often come in unexpected ways.
When I ask from the heart, it seems that God sees an opening
into my heart that the Spirit can use to gain further access, to further
transform me into the Likeness—not just the Image—of God, of Christ. When I ask
“in His name,” I’m saying, though I may not realize it, that I want to ask as
He would. When I ask in Jesus’ name, God sees the “center of [my] heart at
rest/ in the will of [my] Maker, Redeemer and Guide.” And the answer will come in
the way and moment that perfectly fulfills the desires of that center. To the
extent that I allow myself to be conformed to the “heavenly plan,” I will
recognize the answers as what I actually do want. Having asked, I can “let go and let God.” Then,
like Wisdom personified in the book of Proverbs, I can be “ever at play in His
presence.” In this light, maybe the childlike rhythm and rhyme of the poem are
suitable after all.
Sister Gail, my spiritual director, keeps bringing up the
topic of play in our sessions. In fact, she’s the one who introduced me to that
passage about play (Proverbs 8:22-23, 30-31). Surprised that I wasn’t familiar
with that passage, I looked it up in several translations later and saw that in
the King James Version I grew up with, the term was “rejoicing,” not “at play.”
Delighted at the connection, I wrote in my journal
·
rejoicing = playing
·
playing = rejoicing
So I’m dedicating this poem to Sister Gail. Thanks for
reminding me that God is playful as well as solemn and that we are meant to have
(or return to) childlikeness, which trusts our God to give us what we’ve asked
for in Christ’s name, and then lets go, rejoicing—“at play in His presence.”
The Spirit that is channeled in your poems reveals ancient truths that are somehow both familiar and revelatory to me. For example the notion that Jesus' anguished cries in the garden and on the Cross were heard but that the answered prayer of His Resurrection was not revealed until He went through all the Father intended. His obedience led to the answered prayer. Because the Father's plan is to 'confirm (us) in Grace', but we have to 'let it all go, let the answer unfold.' A message that is both comforting and terrifying when one is in the midst of suffering, but indeed, a message of hope.
ReplyDeleteLaura Steltenpohl