Thomas where were you
when Jesus came?
What was so important
you couldn’t stay for a while longer?
Did you have to do that
all important
laundry, or groceries, or maybe clean a closet?
What could have drawn you away?
I know how it is to have all those tasks
to always have no time to finish those all important tasks.
I understand you
Thomas
I am like you, . . .
to busy to stop
to busy to listen
to busy to wait
You won’t believe
unless you see
you must feel the wounds to have faith
Oh so like you am I . . .
I too wasn’t there to see and touch the master
and sometimes I find it hard to believe,
to just have faith.
It took you the touch of the Master to believe I have the words he spoke to my heart to believe It took you putting your hands in his wounds to believe I have his love warming my spirit to believe I have not seen the Master as you have done But I have seen the Master in the face of a newborn child, in the morning sunrise and evening sunset, Yes I’ve seen the Master, for the he is all around me If you weren’t so busy you would see the Master too
They walked the dusty road with him not knowing who he was with every word he spoke, a fire burned within yet they didn’t recognize him
Are we not like Cleopas and his companion when with us in the dark he walks closed are the eyes of our hearts we cannot see the one who sets our souls on fire
It was the breaking of bread they recognized the source of their desire, their Lord
In the breaking of our bread we recognize our Lord we see our Lord, we hear our Lord, when . . . we share our bread with outcasts the disinherited it is in the eyes of the hungry we see . . .
A Quiet Walk 