They Come to My Window
My heart is only so big.
My mind even less in size.
But still, they come.
They come to my window,
Sharing places and pain.
Stories and stupidity.
Hearts poured out like a waterfall,
Into my waiting pool.
Their lives bring movement and stirring.
Turmoil to any stillness that might be found.
I am never untouched.
Pain reverberates. My pond is disturbed.
They speak and cry.
And, sometimes they use words.
Bravely revealing vulnerability.
Tender and precious each one.
They come to my window.
Sometimes their hearts are beyond my understanding.
'Pray for them with all sincerity',
the Abbess advises, and I listen.
'Then, give them over to God'
So, I must let go.
My heart is only so big.
My arms even less so.
I set them down
Leave them at His feet.
His grand heart, His kind mind, His strong arms
I leave them and close the window.
I pour them back into His hands.
But, still they come.
Written July 2020
"...you can't hold in your heart all the pain that comes to your window. Pray once and let them go"
~The Abbess told Julian of Norwich (1343-1416)
