Wednesday 1 August 2012


(In honour of Mother and Father)

I want to feel 

The heart of the Mother
The flesh-pang of the Father 

All dependent

She throws herself
In front of a car
To save the life

He holds a hospital hostage
That the child can be treated
And live

It is instinct
Not reason

That will do anything
To spare the fruit
Of loins and womb

Such love
Does not pause
To think things through

Only they know
How to pray
With such desperation

To take God on
At the coalface

Fighting to the last
Drop of sweat
For the last
Drop of blood

For life they wrestle
With Life
A blessing and a declaration

No matter what
The injury to self

It is the only prayer
Worth praying
The only worthwhile way

In it they are most
Like God


Jesus left Gennesaret and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. Then out came a Canaanite woman from that district and started shouting, ‘Sir, Son of David, take pity on me. My daughter is tormented by a devil.’ But he answered her not a word. And his disciples went and pleaded with him. ‘Give her what she wants,’ they said ‘because she is shouting after us.’ He said in reply, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.’ But the woman had come up and was kneeling at his feet. ‘Lord,’ she said ‘help me.’ He replied, ‘It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the house-dogs.’ She retorted, ‘Ah yes, sir; but even house-dogs can eat the scraps that fall from their master’s table.’ Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, you have great faith. Let your wish be granted.’ And from that moment her daughter was well again.

Matthew 15:21-28

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