LORD,
I don’t know how
to look at your ascension
in the same way
as the Twelve.
I really don’t.
You see, we don’t
wear the same sandals
(my walking shoes
are sneakers)
nor do we have
the same dust
on our clothes.
I haven’t eaten
beside of you
or laughed with you;
I haven’t wept with you
or looked into your eyes.
I haven’t walked with you
in quite the same way,
questioned as they have,
feared their fears
or stared at your hands
like they must have
stared at them.
I don’t know how
to look at your ascension
in the same way
as the Twelve,
with the same history
or intimacy.
I really don't.
But what I do know
is that I long for something.
Perhaps it is the same longing
of one of the Twelve.
There are times
when I sit
in the dark coolness
of the evening
and look heavenward.
There is a longing
that I don’t fully understand.
There are other times
when I look into the eyes
of everyone
I pass on the street,
hoping to see you …
longing to see you
in the faces of others.
Have you come back to us?
Have I looked into your face?
The longing is there,
so strong ….
to stand before you
in awe,
to walk with you
and listen,
to be filled
with God’s Spirit
and be surprised,
to be sent out
as a most unlikely disciple.
Is that why you ask us
to gather in one place?
Are you telling me that others
have the same longings?
I am bound by earthly thinking
so perhaps I will never
completely understand
your ascension.
What I am slowly understanding
is that I am not so different
than one of the Twelve.
I just wear different sandals
and have accumulated
different dust
from my journey.
In my anxiousness,
to understand,
O LORD,
I shall wait ...
yes, I shall
joyfully wait
as you have
asked your
disciples to do
for I am one, too.
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