All content © Elizabeth Lynn Rakphongphairoj 2005, unless otherwise noted.
I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.
- Isaiah 42:16
The rain pulled long fingernails
clackity-clack on the windowpanes.
Sullen child running to greet
the dancing
rhythms
outside before the
streets of Bangkok flooded
over.
Those days were
the
days of bittersweet joy
emulated by
nature.
Those days I could love the rain
more than I loved You.
Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say, "I find no pleasure in them" - before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars grow dark, and the clouds return after the rain; when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men stoop, when the grinders cease because they are few, and those looking through the windows grow dim; when the doors to the street are closed and the sound of grinding fades; when men rise up at the sound of birds, but all their songs grow faint; when men are afraid of heights and of dangers in the streets; when the almond tree blossoms and the grasshopper drags himself along and desire no longer is stirred. Then man goes to his eternal home and mourners go about the streets.
- Ecclesiastes 12:1-5
The bell - sweetly sounding,
Eternally ringing, summons me
To be kissed by the vacuum
Of night, that pulls me from this
Physical existence into the neverending
Depths of Your perfect love.
I declare to you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed - in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."
"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.
- 1 Corinthians 15:50-58
I woke today
and smelled You in the concrete.
Hello, it's been
a while.
How are you?
Smile.
This little hill that shuts
down at eight was covered
in mist this early morning.
The sprinklers touched
me lightly as I
passed. Dog barks, little children
shouting a random "hewwo!" from their
balconies where their fathers hold them.
I thought You'd forgotten
me or I'd forgotten you. But the scent registered
softly and woke me. In my head I
talked to you and we sang
all the way to school. Your smell clung
to me all day in a smile.
But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task? Unlike so many, we do not peddle the word of God for profit. On the contrary, in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, like men sent from God.
- 2 Corinthians 2:14-17
I speak not
of the grandeur of stars
or how You planted each one in the sky
or how it seems You make every bitter tear
sparkle more brightly and shamelessly than those.
But here in my chair
I know that my mind is not meant to be
as scattered as the papers across my desk
or directionless as the dust
that dances in endless circles around my feet.
Safer than under childhood blankets,
free to be silent in Your presence
and to know how to dance away into the night
unhindered by atrophied muscles and old bones
or the stiff scars of years.
Should I shout praise
across the empty streets
in the excitement of the night?
I could,
and You would not stop me.
But I choose to be silent
of the blessing You fashioned for me,
savouring its sweetness
before it fades across the dream-crinkled sheets.
I don't have to,
but I choose to cry for You
in hope that lasts beyond the circumstance
even when everything is going well.
Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
- Romans 2:11-12
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