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Fragments of His Face

I am missing Him.
Where do I search to find Him?

Shall I lock myself inside my room –
Keep still and let my soul fly free
If I empty my whole being
Will He come into my heart and my mind
Fill it with His love overflowing....

What if I cannot dismantle myself
From all distractions and preoccupations
That even as I am all by myself
A crowd of thoughts and images
Still occupy center place.?

I cannot see His face.
He shows only fragments of It.
I want to reach out to touch Him –
Like a shadow He moves away.
For I have not given up my mortal idols.

He is a jealous King.
Even as He imprinted His whole face
Onto Veronica’s handkerchief...
I can only see fragments of Him..
For I have not freed myself of mortal loves.

I should climb a hill to pray
There where the air is pure
And pristine clouds float
an eternal carousel
I become aware how puny and small
All my comings and goings have been.
Maybe He’ll appear from out the sky
In all His majesty and splendor
With trumpets blowing and cymbals crashing..
No longer just fragments of His face.
But all of Him – crucified Face and risen Body.

I need to climb no hill or mountain
Wherever I go, there I am –
Whoever I am, I carry myself
into all places...
If I learn to accept my incapacities
Surrender my will to His...

Then and only then...
He will cease to show just fragments of His face.
His whole countenance will shine
His voice will call out to me..
"Come and follow Me."


-----------------------© Jotte: March 27, 1999

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