Consolation

Consolation

It’s shocking how fast darkness strikes the heights

Where I’ve glued my feet to the narrow path.

The cry tears through my chest,

A song interrupted.

My foot is slipping!

Help! My foot is slipping!

Like Peter striding sure on the sea,

Right after left after right,

I’m stranded suddenly and sinking,

Smacked in the back by the wave of fear.

Curse that opportunist that follows so closely on the heels of faith!

Sheer terror curses, too:

Oh God! My foot is slipping!

Drop.

Is that really what I heard?

Yes.

Drop the heroic wave walking.

Drop from the high wire you strung up yourself

And named the narrow path.

Drop.

I will catch you.

I’m much too clumsy to execute a dismount.

I drop everything,

Good and bad both:

It’s all or nothing with me.

I freefall fast, flailing,

Wailing.

I told you my foot was slipping!

The jagged edged echo of my accusation follows me for a time,

But soon I’m so far removed from it

That it’s somehow ceased to be important.

With a grace not my own,

My fall is finessed

Into the perfect tuck and roll.

I’ve taken on the shape of a small smooth stone

That lands polished in the palm of your hand.

I meant to do that.

It’s not my voice that says it

To salvage a shred of my pride.

It’s yours.

I meant to do that.

There’s a chuckle in your words.

They’re not unkind.

After a time,

When the shaking has stopped

And my breath has slowed to match your heartbeat,

You uncurl your fingers.

I take my first timid steps back on high ground.

I can sing a little bit now.

The notes come out light,

And the words are small and distinct,

A trail of smooth white pebbles.

The path is indeed narrow,

But only where the light hits the pebbles,

Marking one sure step at a time.

“When I said, ‘My foot is slipping,’ your love, O Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.” ‒Psalm 94:18-19

‒erinrmsocha 6-24-2020