Stand in the Door
Stand In The Door
Can anyone describe chronic pain to those who’ve never suffered?
Tell me why madness knocks on the alcoholic’s door,
Why his body fights with his mind until every cell screams for Heaven.
Can anyone but the crucified know a protracted death on the cross?
We cannot learn suffering. We experience it, intimately, with large brush strokes.
And suffering gives us a unique identity and compassion.
Once I lived in Hollowtown, near the corner of Agony and Dread.
Hanging in dark places with bourbon and fear,
But before I was fitted for a deadman’s coat
A good man knocked on my door.
Today, I stand in the door of God’s House to be seen,
Not hidden in a fellowship hall, or watching from a tower, or reclining in sheltered gardens.
Today, I stand in the door as a beacon, to guide the seeker and usher in the curious,
Today, I carry good news.
Sisters in green, brothers in blue, believe … leave doubt and contempt to the devil.
Listen, incline your ear and pray, and one day a good man will knock on your door.
Good news, he knows the way home.
James E. Cressler
January 17, 2019
© 2019 James E Cressler