“Worry” by Adrian Plass

No burglars came again last night

Just as they failed to come the night before,

and for all the nights I can remember

No burglars yet again although I listened, 

as I always do, for them 

Once more they did not oil and ease 

the rusty bolt that holds the garden gate

Behind the shed beside the house 

Nor did I hear them moving in the yard

at some hear-sobbing wretched hour.

It was the ticking of a clock upon my wall. 

That sounded like the pad of evil steps a hundred feet away. 

They did not creep inside, their blind-from-birth brutality 

reduced to stealth and whispers

They did not stand above me. 

Were not there with threats and ugly promises, 

intoxicated by the scent of fear incontinent 

Nor did they then, with weapons 

that I meekly placed into their hands, 

proceed to sever from my chilled insides the screaming child 

who has evaded birth for so long now. 

They did not not come

They were not there again last night.

And what if they should never come?

Such a waste of nights

I might have slept

But if I had, I feel quite sure

They would have come

Those burglars – oh, yes, they would have come. 

From “Silences and Nonsenses – Collected Poetry, Doggerel, and Whimsy” by Adrian Plass. Published 2010 by Authentic Media

"Be Still My Soul" Finlandia

1. Be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side;

Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain; 

Leave to your God to order and provide; 

In ev'ry change he faithful will remain. 

Be still, my soul: your best, your heav'nly Friend 

Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

2. Be still, my soul: your God will undertake 

To guide the future as he has the past. 

Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake; 

All now mysterious shall be bright at last. 

Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know 

His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

3. Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart, 

And all is darkened in the vale of tears, 

Then shall you better know his love, his heart, 

Who comes to soothe your sorrow and your fears. 

Be still, my soul: your Jesus can repay 

From his own fullness all he takes away.

4. Be still, my soul: the hour is hast'ning on 

When we shall be forever with the Lord, 

When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone, 

Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored. 

Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past, 

All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Tr. Jane Laurie Borthwick (1813-1897)

Blessing in a Time of Violence

Image: Holy Even in Pain © Jan Richardson

Which is to say

this blessing

is always.

Which is to say

there is no place

this blessing

does not long

to cry out

in lament,

to weep its words

in sorrow,

to scream its lines

in sacred rage.

Which is to say

there is no day

this blessing ceases

to whisper

into the ear

of the dying,

the despairing,

the terrified.

Which is to say

there is no moment

this blessing refuses

to sing itself

into the heart

of the hated

and the hateful,

the victim

and the victimizer,

with every last

ounce of hope

it has.

Which is to say

there is none

that can stop it,

none that can

halt its course,

none that will

still its cadence,

none that will

delay its rising,

none that can keep it

from springing forth

from the mouths of us

who hope,

from the hands of us

who act,

from the hearts of us

who love,

from the feet of us

who will not cease

our stubborn, aching

marching, marching

until this blessing

has spoken

its final word,

until this blessing

has breathed

its benediction

in every place,

in every tongue:

Peace.

Peace.

Peace.

Source: Jan Richardson: This blessing appears in Jan’s latest book, The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief.

Sophia Scholl

Sophia Magdalena Scholl (9 May 1921 – 22 February 1943) was a German student and anti-Nazi political activist, active within the White Rose non-violent resistance group in Nazi Germany. She was convicted of high treason after having been found distributing anti-war leaflets at the University of Munich with her brother, Hans. As a result, she was executed by guillotine. Since the 1970s, Scholl has been extensively commemorated for her anti-Nazi resistance work.

"The real damage is done by those millions who want to 'survive.' The honest men [sic] who just want to be left in peace. Those who don’t want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes.

Those who won’t take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonizing their own weakness. Those who don’t like to make waves—or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honor, truth, and principles are only literature. Those who live small, mate small, die small. It’s the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you’ll keep it under control. If you don’t make any noise, the bogeyman won’t find you. 

But it’s all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what? Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn."  -- Sophie Scholl

Source: O2 : Breathing New Life Into Faith (2008) by Richard Dahlstrom