I Name You

You are the rock, the solid ground.
You are the mountain rock, impossible to comprehend up close.
From a distance, you are unmoving; the same, present, reference point.
I name you God, the rock solid mountain.

I promise that I will try to find you, the solid ground,
     and place my feet,
     my weight,
     my trust
     on you.

I promise that I will look for you in the distance
     to know always where I am by
     where I am in relation to you.

You are the one who walks, the one who laughs, and weeps.
You are the deep soul of shared meals, of sacrifice, of a new day, a new song.
You tell the stories. The stories shape the day.
I name you Christ, the laughable, laughing, singer of this life.


I promise that when I tell a story I will try to tell it as you hope
     I'll tell it.


I promise
     I will listen into the story they tell.

I promise to laugh and be laughable, to cry,
     and to walk.

You are mover and change-lover. You are knitter and sitter.
You shield us from the wind, you are the wind.
I name you Holy Spirit.


I promise that I will open the windows and let you blow through the room of me.
I promise to follow you through the doorways you open.

June 14, 2003