Overlooking the bougainvillea at the Honolulu Convention Center
Good Evening, God!
This morning began with RAIN as my husband Kit was getting ready to go off to run a half marathon (13.1 miles). Next I was off to a 7 a.m. church service followed by a lovely breakfast with friends. Then 4+ hours of shifting books (for a retirement residence library) then over the Pali for lunch and a board meeting. All the while the rain continued.
Then it was home to fix dinner for my beloved husband Kit. We savored it while we chatted and listened to the rain.
The day was grey but it was filled with wonderful people. People add warmth and color to life — just as the beautiful bougainvillea at the Honolulu Convention Center softened the buildings in the background. (I was at the center for Hawaiian Islands Ministries’ annual conference.)
People make the routines and work of life richer and warmer. It’s so important to make room in our days for real interactions with fellow humans — taking, or making, time to connect. Time to hear and see one another. That requires building margins into our days. Years ago You spoke to me about gleaning. In the Old Testament You commanded the owners of fields not to harvest the edges of the fields. They were to leave something for the widows and the poor to harvest or glean.
That’s a BIG message, God. For me that means not scheduling my day so full that I have to rush by people. I just redid my story Gleaning to make a 3 minute iMovie out of it. Wow! I’m still working on leaving room for You, God.
And . . . It’s not just about my Time, is it God? It’s also about my Money and my Energy.
Story teller,
A Moment with God 
Hi Margie,
So good to see you. I’d like to share two poems w/you. The first one hopefully doesn’t require any explanation but I’m seeing the second one with new eyes since I’m learning more about NDEs. It seems that, when I was seven I went into a coma for at least three weeks. The doctors ‘had given up on me,’ or so went the family legend. I had some strange perpera (where the blood wouldn’t clot). They ran some test where they pin-pricked my ear to see how long it took to stop and ended having to go across town to get a chemical to stop the bleeding. At any rate I wonder now if some of the ideas in “Maverick” came from a similar NDE on my part. I have no idea where else those ideas came from. Anywhere, here are the poems:
Easter
I am a Christian again this year—the vote was
fifty-two to forty-five in my Senate
and there was such chaos in my House
it never got out of committee.
Still I visited church on Good Friday. They said
You carried your cross giving no hint of your future—
when you dropped it
You performed no miracles
but quietly shouldered your burden
as we all have to do.
And Easter, the shock of the empty tomb.
Yes, perhaps separating “Christians” from “Jews”
but I need your resurrection this year,
Your promise all my mistakes will be forgiven.
If I can just quiet my legislature,
let your love guide my life
let your love lead me home.
Maverick
Harry will never forget the moment he first believed
he was born in God, part of a plan so intricate
he could never describe it to anyone.
That Friday he forgave Billy for tripping him
in the bushes and kicking him ―
all was forgiven that day. He was on the path,
and with each breath he let God
hold him
the way he’d held that stuffed animal when he got home,
that limp lamb he’d found when his dog Maverick got out
He’d found the lamb after a car had killed Maverick
and carried the lamb around the house ever since.
When he came from the bushes he held the lamb and
started yelling at his mother ― Why couldn’t she have
been there and told Billy that Harry had been sick,
that Harry had been in a coma, near death ―
yet that Friday he knew
no one ever dies ―
he was forgiven for yelling at his mother.
And knew after Billy was punished he’d be forgiven too.
Forgiveness would be like air.
Maverick was in heaven or on his way.
All things happen at once,
and the joy Harry found at twelve
is part of him (though it fades so easily)
still ever since that Friday Harry knows joy
should be now, can be for ever
and forever and ever.
It might be best to respond by Email: KevinArnold@UWalumni.com