Aftermath

There was sickness at the youth lock-in. One poor child threw up in church yesterday. I stayed home, to avoid doing that very thing.
But I am still in love with kayaking, and trying to figure out when I can get out on the water again. I'm already planning to rent a different brand of kayak than the one I used Saturday, so I can be thinking about what kind I want to buy. I'm not picky, though; if anyone wanted to give me one, I'd gladly take it!
I came into the office for a little while, thinking that a change of scenery might improve the nagging sense of illness.
Nope.
So I'm on my way back home, but here's this week's Chimes article:

I’ve been reading a book of poetry by Brian Wren, who wrote “This Is a Day of New Beginnings” and several other hymns in our hymnal, and I ran across this one, which captured my imagination.
Hope it touches you, too.
Anne


I met three children in the street
They did not give me trick or treat
but whispered, laughed, and called my name.
I nearly walked away,
but something made me stay
and join them in their game.

“Now let’s pretend that we are God,”
they said, and ran to where I stood.
They danced around me in a ring
and sang, “You must agree
to give us questions three,
so ask us anything.”

They waited, sitting on the ground,
and did not move or make a sound.
I thought and puzzled long that day,
and then to my surprise,
I looked into their eyes,
and knew what I would say:

“Now listen to my questions three,”
I said, “and you must answer me:
What is your name? and Are you real?
and Can you see and know
how humans think and grow,
and fathom how we feel?

The first child stood up tall,
and suddenly I felt quite small
as solemnly she said:
“We never give our name away,
but listen hard to what I say:
God is not a she, God is not a he,
God is not an it or a maybe.
God is a moving, loving,
knowing, growing mystery.”

The second child moved so fast
I hardly saw her spinning past
as all around she sang:
“I’ll dance my dance of destiny
till you are all as real as me:
I made you. I know you.
I love you.”

The third child took my hand
and whispered, “Yes, we understand.
I know what children think and do,
for I have been a child like you.
I know how it feels to walk and run,
to sing and shout, and play in the sun,
or cry in the night,
or fall to the ground,
or tremble with fright,
or be lost and found.
I know how it feels to look at the sky
and keep on asking why and why.”

I met three children on my way,
and never knew, in all our play,
their age or name or why they came,
yet all the world is new,
and everything I do
will never be the same.

God is not a she,
God is not a he,
God is not an it or a maybe,
God is a moving,
loving,
knowing,
growing,
mystery.

“I met three children” by Brian Wren
©1996 Hope Publishing Company.