The Soul Felt its Worth
I wrote this poem last year but it felt right to share it again. The world continues on its path of ‘sin and error pining’ as well as sometimes feeling just one nudge away from―well, I’m not exactly sure what. It changes with the progression of days and the cumulative effect of events and news about the events and good people trying their best to do what good can be done.
Here’s my Christmas wish in the midst of all that is real and true: the holy, the inhuman, the devastating, and illuminating: May each soul feel its worth, as it is―not a worth measured against some sort of value-chart or set of market/culture/media driven criteria. I mean the value of each soul as a unique facet of God’s image and likeness, the value of each soul as the nearness of a God who came to earth and whose love can not let go; each soul as breath, love, and potential, given as gift. May that be the steadying weight that fills voices calling for change; may it be the motivation to help a neighbour who might be too numb to feel it for themselves; may it ground and may it set free; may it keep reminding us to look for the horizon light, sign of tomorrow blooming, sign of earth moving, sign of promise to come.