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Cracked 30 September 2015

Posted by Dr Moose in Church, Faith, Memory, Poetry.
Tags: ,

We are all cracked.
Vessels scarred and starred
By this life-journey.

The bruising knocks of accident,
Or cruel design.
Jarring impact of years’ collisions.

Fractures held by tight resolve,
Part-set glue
Or frailest grasp.

All cracked,
Imperfect seconds,
Yet not rejected.

Holding still within,
light and love,
Divine and human,
Bleeding brilliance.

(2 Corinthians 4:6-7)

I spent three years in Kings Hill, Kent, effectively doing what the C of E now calls pioneering. I came across news today of developments there, good ones, and they re-awakened very mixed memories, riddled with regret, dominated by doubt, and yet the awareness of having brought a congregation to birth. Out of those, these words came.



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