Old Friends

I recently came back from something called Men's Rites Of Passage, in Brisbane. It's not something that I can talk a lot about, but it was awesome. If it sounds interesting, do go and visit the page here.

But while I was out away on that, I wrote this. And thought I'd share it with y'all, because I quite like it.

Old Friends
"Life is hard," said I to the man.
"Tell me something I don't know!" said he.
"Life has always been hard, extremely hard,
And especially so for me!
You say it like it's some new revelation,
Something you've never heard before -
But it's been this way since life began,
If you stop and look at the score.
It's one-nil to life, first goal wins,
We never even had a chance.
Go ahead and play the game if you like,
But it's done - you're just doing a dance.
You can't win against life - so stop trying, stop doing.
That will never get you anywhere."
"So what are you saying?" I asked, "Give up?
Just pretend that I don't care?"
"Ah, but you see," he said, "there's not just one game.
This one might be finished, but that's not all.
Just because you can't win against life,
Doesn't mean that we're always going to fall."

"Life is not that important," said I to the man.
"Really?" said he, "I never knew!
I thought that perhaps I should bow down to worship,
Wondering at the splendiferousness of you!
You'd think that to look at you that Einstein was a fool,
And that Mozart wrote childish tones!
That Socrates babbled nonsense,
And Beethoven played the spoons!
Get down from your cloud, down from your throne,
You're just another simple man.
You breathe, you burp, you fart, just like us.
And when you need to, you use the can.
If everyone's equal, that includes you, you dolt,
You're not somehow specially exempt.
The picture is a lot bigger than your pretty face -
Pretty being a loose term here, but you get what I meant.
I'm not being mean, I'm just being true.
There's more life out there than just yours.
Perhaps pay a little attention to it, you know,
Before you walk through death's doors."

"My life is not about me," said I to the man.
"No shit, Sherlock!" he exclaimed.
"The world's a lot bigger than little old you.
But you don't seem to get that, so let me explain.
You were created - and not by you - for a purpose,
Much bigger and grander than yourself.
That purpose isn't about a job, or even a family,
Or what awards and trophies you put on your shelf.
It's about being part of a picture that glorifies God,
That points the way back to Him.
He's what life is really all about,
That's where you sink or swim.
We're a grand cosmic arrow, a beautiful display,
And aye, we may be the chief exhibit -
But don't fool yourself for a moment
That you are the only one in it.
God loves all his children, not just you,
He's got the biggest family in Creation.
And he's patient - he'll wait for all to come,
For all have been sent the invitation."

"I am not in control," said I to the man.
"Thank goodness," said he, "for that!
Or else nothing would ever really get done,
And we'd probably all be wearing silly hats.
I much prefer it this way, I think -
With someone who knows what they're doing.
He has been doing the job for quite a while now, you know.
Despite all your fro-ing and to-ing.
Even your own life isn't just your own show,
Because it intersects with everything else.
So it's all a grand tapestry, and you're woven in somewhere -
Though why he bothered with you, who can tell?
But you're part of it anyway, and one day we'll be able
To step back and take a good look.
Just for now though, you're just a thread,
Being woven in with a hook.
It's a bit like the worm, but not quite as messy -
And you're catching men, not fish.
It's no easy thing, and it never happens quickly,
But it works a darn sight better than a wish."

"I am going to die," said I to the man.
He smiled. "That isn't such a bad thing," said he.
"This broken and shattered earth
Is no place to spend eternity.
We are bound for a much better home
That has already been prepared
You can't take anything with you -
But what you need is all there.
While we're here, though, everything fades.
Nothing is here for good.
Some last longer than others, for sure,
But all have their time. It's well understood.
It's just not well accepted, or well spoken;
But all know that all things die -
Or at least, all things physical, that are on this earth,
Rather than in the spiritual realm lie.
For faith, hope, and love,
Will never truly have an end.
And a new beginning awaits us;
As does our oldest friend.