the face of God

our eyes met over a sea of faces
making their way to the exits of our
industrial white beamed church.
we embraced,
talking of weight loss
and pretend wedding rings
[both of us got too fat for our
real ones so we improvise]
i remember how much i love talking to you,
you will always,
always keep it one hundred percent real
and in that space it is always safe.
the conversation quickly dips
deep below the surface,
as it always does
with us,
we don't like floating at the top.
you pull me downward,
down past where the sun touches,
and you look in my eyes
with yours
filled with sorrow and a tired anger,
"they will now remove 
both of my husband's legs,
it is the only way forward."
you ask,
will you and your husband come pray with us?
of course we will.
of course.
who are we that we would be invited
in this sacred space.
we cram into the room next door,
a room used for 
moms and boobs and babies,
it is dim and the mirrored glass reveals not many people 
left in the sanctuary.
people have long since left for 
sunday after noon lunch.
there are about 20 of us huddled,
along with you and your husband, 
in his wheel chair,
brave as always, 
in the face of another wave of suffering,
lightly jokes that at least he'll be 
lighter
and easier to transfer without the 
extra weight.
he jokes how he can pick 
what ever size shoe he wants,
but the sadness and immensity of this loss
is not lost on any of us.
you speak, 
meeting us all in the eyes.
no one looks away. 
we all want to be here 
and this moment is holy ground. 
the heaviness of this is great, 
it is hard, it is sad, it is pressing. 
and your josh. 
your man among men 
softly says to us 
"therefore. 
we do not lose heart.
though outwardly we are 
wasting away,
yet inwardly we are being renewed 
day by day.
For our light and momentary troubles are 
achieving for us an 
eternal glory that 
far outweighs them all.
so we fix our eyes on what is 
unseen, 
for what is unseen 
is eternal."
every heart is wet in that room.
we can only bow our heads in 
reverent silence 
for God is among us. 
the flame, 
that fierce and holy flame
that i've only seen a few times before, 
ever only on you and your husband in his 
steel chair, 
it shines above your heads. 
it will not hide. 
do we even recognize the holy ground 
we are standing on?
that we get to witness God 
standing before us, 
His hand on His anointed son,
the man about to lose his legs?
we pray. 
not knowing exactly how, 
but the Spirit himself intercedes for us 
through wordless groans.
it is not us that are ministering to you,
but you and him, 
who are ministering to us. 
it is you 
that proves to me that God is real. 
and i can see him and touch him 
in that room.
He stood there, 
His arms outstretched 
on the back of your head 
on the back of his, 
weeping with all of us, 
weeping with you.
and  we long for the day 
with you when all is made new. 
the old and torn things 
will be put together again. 
we wait in anticipation to worship 
Him with you, 
in your robes of white. 
the glory of the Lord shines 
in and through you. 
there are no easy flowery words 
for what is about to happen. 
we do not shy away from the pain and suffering 
you are enduring, 
but we see your hope. 
we see your unrelenting faithfulness 
to Jesus Christ that 
does. not. waver. 
we are put to shame. 
we are humbled. 
great will be your crowns of righteousness 
for His name's sake. 
we love you
we bow our knees with you. 
may God have mercy. 
i love you shelly.