A flick of glory, a flame of praise

An exclusive reading of my new poem and practicing thanks

As a church we’ve been reflecting on how God is enthroned on the praises of his people and how our tongues participate in a transaction of glory when we give thanks.

These reflections have pushed and challenged me to be vocal, and so I wanted to offer a poem of thanksgiving to offer a flick of glory, a flame of praise. Build an altar, even here in this digital space.

I hope you enjoy the words and find your own way to construct a phrase Heaven itself inhabits.

---

Enthroned, art by J.E. Serait

A flick of glory, a flame of praise

I’ve been to the lip of the falls
watched the waters spill over their
edge, tried to follow the trajectory of a single
drop
cascades of water tumbling
to the break
the enormous sound of power
loosed, power untethered
released.

I've seen the violence 
forced upon a body
upon one hundred thousand droplets
when they crash into the pools below
break their fall against the smoothed-out rock.

And I was near
not close enough to 
scorch
when fire moved across the prairies
charged faster, angrier than an
adult Grizzly
hectare after hectare of ancient forest
swallowed in a howl of wind and
flame, obliterated.

At once I have felt like that sole
droplet
tumbling over the falls
pushed without warning by a
careless hand. 

At once 
my bones crackled like kindling
so dried by drought
they combusted 
instantly sparked to flame by a hand I was asked to trust
who struck the match just to prove
it could set the bones to fire
immolate like a sacrifice.

But, when the enemy pushed me into the flood
I did not drown. For, Your spirit 
stronger than any waters, pulled 
me out of the 
deep.

And when he tried to burn the whole
house 
to the ground 
You flooded my heart with hope and
not a hair on my head 
singed.

Instead my heart became a deep well
of thanksgiving. My own 
tongue 
a flick of 
glory
an unquenchable flame of
praise.