On wind and gale

take flight and sail

our lives

unmoored, untethered be.


Through pitch and toss

we grip the floss

and believe

all that we see.


Yet eyes are not

nor what I’ve wrought


to see us through.


What once had flown

now anchors alone…


His work is true.


Right here in the middle of the Lenten season, I find life very much to be as this little boat, sailing in a tempest of wind and gale. Riggings are stretched in every direction straining to hold the forward push of daily living. Almost daily I can hear the snap of chord strands giving way under stormy pressures. One can understand the disciples as they cried out to a sleeping Christ.

Stitching holds treasures in fabric and thread and this small patch brought an assurance that even I could not conjure. There, in the boat, as if waiting for someone to notice, is a kite. Is it waiting to be to picked up, to hang onto and let it pull us out of the storm? Or, is it there, after having made its flight, waiting to be tossed as anchor for steadying the small craft. Either way, the message was sure…

…In the Crossbars of a downed kite, lay the hope for rescue and security. As we walk toward Easter, we are confronted with the frailty of humanity and the strength of God. Thank goodness we have both in our Savior’s frame.

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