Threads of the Messy Middle (My First Poem)

 

While on a recent trip Türkiye, my wife and I bought a beautiful woven handcrafted Turkish rug with a tribal design. As we journeyed with new friends for 10 days God was writing this poem on my heart. 

Remember, the Gospel describes a life that is on a journey of inclusion not one of exclusion

Threads of the Messy Middle

A poem still unfolding,
Lines of sorrow and joy,
Grace and struggle,
Held in the steady hand of God.

Between the beginning and the end
The river of life runs like a clock,
Not fully dark and wild,
Not yet fully light and tamed.

And yet there is room for every tree to rise,
Every creature to wander,
Every living thing to belong beneath the same mercy of heaven.

There is room beside Him
For every weary traveler,
Every wounded soul,
Every life longing to be held by grace.

The middle is messy,
But it is not abandoned.
The middle is messy,
But it is not Godless.

Along the way, friendships are woven
Threads crossing like a handwoven rug,
Carrying the weight of shared days,
Stitching laughter into sorrow,
Presence into loneliness,
Grace into ordinary time.

Even here,
Between what was
And what will be,
Creation keeps reaching toward heaven,
And Jesus still calls us
To make room for one another
As He has made room for us all.