Altars and Burning Bushes

Of Altars and Burning Bushes – Jan 28, 2013

Your still and quiet voice

Whispers softly to my heart

Cannot ignore its’ powerful call

Tears come as memory rises

You turn my minds eye

To look from this vista

Back over my life

Molded by your skillful hand

Catching glimpses

Of altars and burning bushes

Carefully placed

Where you met with me

You have made these promises

And you have never failed

Never forsaken me or any other

Your words our anchor

In life’s inevitable storms

Can’t take the credit

But I can treasure hope

For this thing I have never lacked

The blessings you’ve bestowed

And because of these blessings

I have built these altars

Where my eyes have seen

Your miracles and victories

I stand here and my tongue confesses

The truth of your love

Your undeniable hand

In these unforgettable moments

I have not faced the Red sea

And no oppressors like Egypt

But still you have heard my cry

To be saved from my enemies

And so I have looked back

Over a life like so many others

With its challenges and battles

And I have seen burning bushes

Moments where you have spoken

God moments

Where my heart beat faster

For I knew I was in your presence

Standing on holy ground

So when this old world

Does its best to drag me down

To drown my hopes

In overflowing sadness

I look back over my shoulder

Back over the distance

Down the length and breadth

Of this fragile life

And to my minds eye

You bring forth

Every altar set there

To remember each miracle

The greatest to the smallest

And warm tears begin to fall

Like joyful rain

On my grateful heart

For I have not forgotten

I have not let slip away

The burning bushes

Or the angel songs

The answered cries

For you are faithful

And I will not let go

Though hope is fragile

I have not let it go

So may those who read

These mortal words

And these finite phrases

Look carefully backwards

And may they never miss

Nor dare to overlook

The burning bush moments

And the altars reverently built

On their own journey

Over the sands of time

And into their present

Carried forward, this gift

And may they not let go

Of this same hope

That he will never leave nor forsake

Those that love him and seek his face

by Michael Meehan