Doubt:
Who are you
To write a poem
About someone else’s
Fire?
Me:
I must praise. I must.
Doubt:
For what?
Me:
You wouldn’t understand.
Doubt:
That’s not an answer.
Me: 
Ok. Well. The sweetest of Savior-Gods
Takes things so He can give Himself in their place.
He brings arms and coats and love for those
Watching it all burn.
And even in the tossing first night of shock
He holds and whispers and breathes,
“I will replace with more and better.”
Doubt:
Some things are irreplaceable, though;
They’re just gone.
Me:
I think . . .maybe not.
Doubt:
The ashes do not lie, foolish child.
Me:
Praise is the exchange,
The gift given to me to
Give back to Him. All the smallest
Particles of me,
Emptied of lesser joys,
Are filled with delight of doing
What they, even flecks of dust,
Ashes, if you will,
Were hand-made to do.
They ascend to priestly duty when they sing,
‘Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.’
Their lyric opens my eyes to see that
All the things I think I’ve lost
Aren’t lost at all. They are
Improved.
Doubt: 
Brave words.
What if
The thing He takes
Tomorrow
Is more than you can bear?
What then?
Me:
You
Aren’t
Listening,
Serpent-child.

Tomorrow you step onto
Marriage Road.
Tonight you hold hands,
And wonder what it holds.

Brother Trotter will present you as
Man and Wife
And your first step forward
Is a different life.
Not just two roads becoming one,
Though they do,
But more, one road that is
Brand new,
Through grassy sweeps and
Thickets deep
Where no road yet has
Thought to be.

This world will tell you
I exaggerate,
That you’re both still yourselves;
No need to overstate.
That the route to joy is in
Holding back,
‘Leave space between’
Is the common hack.
You’ll seek, yourself, to
Make this true,
Because giving all is
Hard to do.

But when does Grace
With this world agree?
Never,
Not in marriage, certainly.
Grace came down and opened wide
His arms, His heart,
His blood, His life.
He married us, for better or worse,
And took the sting from
The thorny curse.

In ten and twenty years
You’ll still need His grace.
And you’ll relearn this lesson
Every day.
But oh He makes it the
Sweetest lesson in school.
Because Grace gives more
Than my own self-rule.

And if I haven’t convinced you yet,
Ask Annie, Cynthia, Zelma, Bertha, and Paulette.
Saints and pilgrims ahead of you,
They walk by faith and know it’s true.

Tomorrow you step onto Marriage Road.
Give freely,
And know you can always come home.
~
For Colin and Eliza on the eve of their wedding, August 10, 2018.