On Mayday

Lord, teach me to NOT WANT,

Not even spiritual comfort

Teach me to detach my desires from myself

So that I desire

Only what you desire

 May 1st, 2015

Tonight I experienced a feeling I had not experienced in over 6 years. The last time it had been a cold night in Frankfurt. I felt like exploding and so I left the house after dark to go downtown. I felt like I was running but really I was walking very slowly. There was something about the city lights amidst the darkness that comforted me. Something about the searing cold helped me empty myself, pour out my soul into the half-emptied streets.  The deafness of the concrete welcomed me, my silent cries bouncing off the steel, the glass, the modern facades… These lights shining in the dark drew me, and their reflections on the Main spoke of peace, hope, beauty. I wandered through the night, through the streets, seeking answers.

The moon stood as my graceful companion, without complaining...almost full, so open, so bright, so comforting. It was God’s way of saying he was there... in my anger, in my confusion, in my restlessness.

Sure, in times of discernment I always look outside to see beyond; I take long walks, seek places of quiet and solitude. Except that this time I am not just searching answers for myself, but for others. And I feel helpless not being able to help.

It may seem silly to do so, but only human.

I am reminded that everything in this world is passing… and I try not to hold on… not to question, just to trust.

Not what I desire Lord, but what you do… do with me as you will, to lead others to you…

Whose land is it anyway?

You say kick them out
They don’t belong here
You say they steal your taxes
Yet half this land was Mexico’s
So who’s to say
That it’s not rightfully theirs?
California, Arizona,
New Mexico, or Texas
Once Mexico’s, once Spain’s
Once not even theirs
Once it was from natives,
Not yours, not mine, but theirs.
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It all depends how far back you go
But in the end, not yours nor mine
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And this nation pridefully says
We are a nation of immigrants
But hypocritically says stay out
We don’t want you here
But what do we say of the land we usurped
But what do we say to poor nations today
That are how the nations we came from once were
But don’t come here with your misery
Stay there and don’t have children
That will solve your problems
We don’t want you to come and flourish
We don’t want you to have the chance we once had
But I ask is this really yours to say?
I will ask you now
Whose land is it anyway?