Just A Hunch
We live haunted by the remains
of a paradise half-seen in dreams,
half-heard in birdsong, half-felt
in the aftermath of love’s making.
Though some insist we are headed
for a heavenly city, the child inside
us all knows that even if that is true
we couldn’t abide that long. The first
chance we get we’ll make for greener
climes where the iris grows wild and
trees hang heavy with good and evil.
And based on little more than hunch
I believe the good Father will call out:
Wait up, for I too am coming quickly.
I am blessed each time I visit here
your words, John
your words…
Thank you very much. Really.
A great image. Thanks for that.
You are very welcome. Thanks for stopping by.
John you ought to reread 1 Cor. 2:9 – “But as it is written: Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” Those are things Christians can look forward to here and hereafter — definitely — for sure!!
I don’t know where you were headed with your article today, but to me it borders on sacrilege — especially your ending words about God. I realize you need to keep up your “image” and put a certain amount of “shock” in your statements, but this article, friend, seems to be out of bounds for a Christian, a minister of the Gospel, a former pastor — not to even mention the present position you hold with DAVID C. COOK, one of the great publishers of Christian literature.
You said…”Though some insist we are headed for a heavenly city, the child inside us all knows that even if that is true… ”
God says that we, who are His children, are definitely “headed for a heavenly city.” John, it IS TRUE. However, its truth lies, for us, in our faith in the shed blood of Christ, to pay for the guilt of our sins. That is how we can be SURE of going to the “heavenly city.”
Oh my lands. Chill to the out.
This piece speaks to me because it’s difficult for me, in my human form, to imagine a perfect place, let alone happiness there. I love Jesus with all my heart, but if given the choice, I would choose to stay here–in this imperfect place–a little while longer. I’m enjoying this season w/ my imperfect husband/marriage and imperfect children/family. I’m enjoying my free will, the wrestling I do w/ God, and the working out of my salvation.
Obviously, God requires us to choose Him. He’s the author of free will; He could’ve made us robots, and He didn’t. My 5yo leaned over in church the other day and whispered how she doesn’t understand why God allows Satan to do bad things. It’s a question w/ which so many of us wrestle even as adults: if God is omnipotent, why? Why, why, why?
Because there’s beauty in having options and choosing Him. Because there’s beauty in being free and wild. He’s pursued each of us into the wilderness, else we wouldn’t be here, now, discussing what the hereafter will look like.
Thank you, Brandee. I’m glad the piece spoke to you in many ways…there are so many questions.
Lindsay, I’ll tolerate much from a man, but not rude behavior/talk. I don’t write articles. I write poetry, and I strive to be very faithful in calling things like I see them. If you disagree, fine, but don’t make it personal. If you find my words out of bounds or sacrilegious, I’d simply suggest steering clear of my blog/poetry. Its really that easy. And not that it has anything to do with anything, but I no longer work for David C Cook.
Lindsay,
I think you are reading this wrong–you’re missing the nuggets–and, it’s ironic that you use I Corinthians 2:9. This poem is a hint–a “hunch” at the more. Read it again, please, and ask yourself if you really believe Glory is going to be a city with streets of gold.
He’s not being sacrilegious, unless it is sacrilege against our pre-conceived ideas.
When I read this poem, I actually see worship. Thanks, John.
On one side, there’s perfection and fingers wagging in shame then, huh? And then there’s Eden on the other. Where would God choose to walk? I believe in Eden, with the rest of us in our birthday suits. Imagine how unembarrassed we’ll be.
When I was a child, my truest self, I walked in the garden with my daddy, and yes there were snakes.
Even still, I read this less as a theological statement and rather that you’re trying to get to the heart of a God who roves intimately for us. That’s what’s so wonderful about poetry. Thank you for it, John.
Hi, Amber. ‘Unembarrassed’ – what a wonderful, wonderful word. Thank you.
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John, I am sorry if I offended you. Please forgive me. I was trying to speak honestly and forthrightly as you always seem to speak — expressing “poetically” what is on your mind. Maybe in the future I will be able to “SEE” your “POEMS” in the way you intend them. I suppose my definition of poetry is old school. In fact, I’m sure it is. Hey! Be patient with an old guy!
What I would really like to do is go horseback riding with you. That is more fun than reading poetry.