Photo: Michael Smith

By Tommy Airey

A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion…
Mark 4:37-38a

A violent squall came up,
waves of shame-based codependency,
white supremacy,
addiction to efficiency,
fear of intimacy,
lack of emotional competency
flooding my boat.

Am I really capsizing or just
Either way, I’m fucking scared,
my soul pared down from a lifetime
of grinning and firstborn standard bearing.
I plead with Jesus, wondering if he
even cares that I’m perishing.

Quiet. Be still. Breathe. Release. Trust.
Easy for him to say. Anyways,
what kind of Master
sleeps through the storm and then
demands I stay awake
in the cool of the garden?
Beg your pardon, Lord Jesus.

All this is hovering over me,
leading me to discover that
recovery from fear, anger, pain,
loneliness, emptiness and unmet needs
is a Journey. Forgive me for
asking to inherit eternity
without seeking serenity

one day at a time. I play
the victim and plead for someone to intercede.
Will someone (anyone) just feed me?
Meetings are mustard seeds
growing us into trees giving
shade for the least of these.
Please give me courage to change.

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