People Scurrying All Around

by Fashqn6/26/14

People scurrying all around escape the sound
That sadness, loneliness built within
the darkness of repeated sin

Blaming others for their strife
Mourning for their wasted life
Chances given; they denied
Ruled by ego, self and pride

Turning from the deep still voice
urging them to make a choice
One path clear that leads to peace
Instead , themselves they do deceive

Walking roads straight to despair
Asking why nobody cared
And yet the one who cared so much
Never noticed, never touched

Trying so to just fit in
never making room for Him
They crave acceptance from the rest
Reject the one who loves them best

Callously He’s pushed away
Ignoring Him throughout their day
Every night , a troubled sleep
haunted by a pain so deep

At times they do cry out in need
Not for His love, but full of greed
They take and take and never give
And wonder at this life they live

Ignoring signs..and wonders true
Facing the distorted view
They look away from truth so clear
And do not care that He is near

We look away others cry
Their needs we scorn..or just deny
Forgetting help they’ve given us
We wound their heart , betray their trust

We talk of change but never try
And still we wonder, asking “why’ ?

We dare to think He’s shunned our pleas
yet spend no time upon our knees
We give to him the crumbs discarded
And marvel that we’re broken hearted

We wait on answers from above
While shunning those in need of love
Never growing; time goes by
Standing still ..we wonder why…

And yet His love is ever true
He reaches out to me and you
Patiently each day He stands
Holding out a loving hand

Sadly..we will walk on by
Then cry alone…and wonder why…
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One Response to People Scurrying All Around

  1. Brad Nelson Brad Nelson says:

    People scurrying all around escape the sound

    That sadness, loneliness built within

    That’s nicely worded. As one who has read his share of John of the Cross, St. Francis, and others, I understand the doctrine of our inherent poverty.

    Such a notion is ludicrous in our current culture which has become acclimated to having every whim satisfied. I’m a big promoter of the free market and I resist dishonest or incompetent (such as that of Pope Francis) attempts to attack it in the name of “fairness,” “equality,” or just the excesses that come with it. The problem with most of these critiques is they posit government control as the answer to what is essentially a spiritual/ethical question.

    But we do need to keep our mind on something other than how much “stuff” we can accumulate. As Theodore Dalrymple adroitly writes in “Farewell Fear”:

    I have no vocation for discomfort or poverty, and suspect that concern for the environment, in so far as it really exists, would melt away faster than the glaciers or the polar ice cap at the first prolonged power cut. When one considers how much fuss people are now inclined to make when something in a hotel (for example) does not come up to the standards of comfort they have come to expect, I do not think a mass conversion to asceticism is on the cards. . .

    And yet I cannot help but think that this habit of throwing things away the moment they become defective leads to an unpleasantly disabused attitude to life. Computers, washing machines, televisions, refrigerators, clothes, out they all go the moment they break down or require repair. I know it is a tribute to our immense productivity that it is far cheaper to obtain a new machine than to repair the old, but in a world where everything is so instantly replaceable, what affection or gratitude develops for anything? What do we notice and appreciate if everything is instantly replaceable?

    The sheer productivity of the free market, combined with science and technology, has produced Narcissistic Man. He is the man who gripes (been there, done that) when some small thing — mistakenly getting onion rings rather than fries at a fast-food joint, for example — causes him to become excessively irritated or annoyed. Shades of “The Princess and the Pea” if you remember that old fable.

    And if one looks at how much of Christianity has become attached in some way to the “Prosperity Church” or “Social Justice” — both of which keep material possessions central to the dogma, not personal ethics — you may realize just how wedded we are to material comforts. And I’m all for having readily available food, affordable housing, and cheap clothes. But the things that people now get all hot-and-bothered over, even when they are up to their ears in material comforts, show a distressing lack of perspective.

    The Christian idea of understanding one’s spiritual poverty (and perhaps even reveling in it, as St. Francis did) is a foreign concept, inside or outside of modern Christianity in this modern world to a very large extent.

    If we don’t come to grips with the fact that we are not complete within ourselves, and cannot be, then it is too easy to reach for pills or iPods to try to quench what mere “stuff” or “good feelings” can never fill. This trap exists for those who try to fill it with too much “Jesus” as well. If the pursuit is for the ever-present buzz of good feelings, one is setting oneself up for worse than failure. One is setting oneself up for deep despair.

    “Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” probably has much deeper and less obvious connotations than most people understand. I don’t think it simply means, “Okay…life is shitty for you now, but you’ll get your reward in the hereafter.” I think it means, as St. Francis evinced, that by coming to terms with our essential poverty (for we all return to dust), it is then we can be free and joyful.

    Buddhists, of course, stop there. As G.K. Chesterton notes, that religion is a negation of life. The point is to find an escape from it. However, the spiritual poverty as understood by St. Francis was something different. The point was not just to acknowledge our inherent poverty, but to also do so in order that something else could find its way in. It was more than just negation.

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