A poetic picture of gospel hope.

June 3, 2012

Now that I’m in the tail end of shingles, I think I can focus long enough to write a complete thought.  I never knew how persistent physical pain could disrupt the flow of thought or jolt you awake in the middle of the night … but even in this small glimpse of what that might feel like, my respect for those persevering in the faith with chronic ailments or pain has grown exponentially.

It’s been a quiet season on this blog, but I’ve had the opportunity to read and read like I always dreamed of doing once I didn’t have homework waiting for me at nights or wedding planning.  Haha.  And I’m currently reading S. Pearce Carey’s biography of William Carey (JohnE’s copy; hooray for the marriage between two libraries, too!) and poems by John Piper.

If you have a relatively free summer, I recommend both.  Biographies are a great way of enjoying “a heart at leisure from itself,” and this is a particularly good one … and Piper’s poems are pretty poignant.  I read the poem below yesterday and was encouraged by the illustration of a woman whose ultimate hope isn’t in her husband or in his “safety” or “preservation” but in the God of the gospel, exemplified by her submission and willingness to hear Truth from her pastor.

Oh, to cultivate such a heart by His grace.

John Piper wrote this poem when he heard of a newlywed waiting for her husband after the Interstate 35 bridge over the Mississippi collapsed on August 1, 2007.

Waiting For My Husband After the Bridge Collapsed

O God, please let him be unconscious,
With his wallet lost, unknown
In some draped cubicle, with nurses
Near, and scrolling through his phone.

You never stayed so late. O Jesus,
I would give this house, and weep
With joy to know he stayed at
Work, until he fell asleep.

It’s midnight. I’m afraid to call, or
Even look too closely at the cars
Above the water, with the broken
Windows, glimpsed between the twisted bars.

I sleep. And you are there, the current
Of the Mississippi in your hair,
Caressed, so still, so still, so breathless,
Love, as when last night I touched you there.

I wake to hear the doorbell ringing.
It is two A. M.  And through the hues
Of porch-light, Yes! No matter
What. My pastor always brings good news.

©2012 Desiring God Foundation. Used by Permission.


2 Responses to “A poetic picture of gospel hope.”

  1. MaryAnn :) Says:

    Hi Tia! I made an annotated bibliography on Wm Carey for my church history class. I think you might also enjoy “Dorothy Carey: The Tragic and Untold Story of Mrs. William Carey.” by Beck, James R, Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1992. Blessings to you on your fun time of reading sans homework!

  2. tia Says:

    Thanks, Mary Ann! Hooray, I love reading about their wives!!

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