The Celebration Song of EBL, nod to T.S. Eliot

This is what I have to say

On my celebration day

Emancipation day

Graduation day

A Toast! To the one who invented JOY, FREEDOM, WISDOM and WINE.

May our Celebration be By His Grace and For His Glory.

And I think we’ll find He’s here

Because He’s promised always to meet me in my fear

When I decided to use words

To give glory where it’s due

He said, “Hey! Let’s up the ante!

I’ve got a challenge for you!”

“Why don’t you write a poem

And put those words in rhyme?”

I said, “Dear God! I’m doing finals!

I won’t have time to make it fine!”

“It won’t be good.”

“Did I say it should?”

“It’ll be LAME”

“I’ll take your shame”

“But--- Lord---it will be--- cheesy!”

“Don’t you trust me?”

Okay.

So this is more

Than what you bargained for

When you came here today

But you know by now

With God and me

This often is the way.

You’ve all supported and encouraged me

Through my trouble and trials

Rebellion and rejections

Bitterness and brokenness

Hurts and hard times

That I can’t make rhyme.

That’s why it means so much to me

That today you all are here

To REJOICE in my rejoicing

And share in my good cheer!

A Toast! To you who’ve listened to all my endless talk, who indulge me in my metaphors and creative aspirations, who have loved me well and welcomed my love in return.

May our love ever be By His Grace and For His Glory.

Freedom, Hope and Gratitude form the backbone of this poem

Those simple mysteries of grace,

Seeming pup tents till you enter them

And they unfold into unending space.

My Hope is in the backwardness I’ve found in Gospel writ

And a small experiment

To take my Maker at His word

And put my weight on it.

He says he uses weakness to show how He is strong,

And the foolish ones to show the wise ones where they’re wrong

So I have Hope my insignificance

Is insignificant to Him

And He’ll use this very ordinary girl

In unusual ways to save the world

But where is Joy without Godly sorrow?

 It’s superficial, passing vapor, shallow

Let us speak for a moment of trenches and fences

The gritty parts and broken hearts

Five years now, and

Hardly hell

But

Purgatory perhaps

A painful purging

An uncomfortable earning

Learning while constrained

Trapped in town

And saddled with semesters:

COLLEGE

According to me.

It hasn’t really been my cup of tea.

I say this not to complain

I’m glad for all the knowledge gained

Better still, I kept each book

And organized the notes I took

So though the semesters went too fast

And realistically I barely passed

I haven’t tried to grow a tree

So much as run around collecting seeds

Yes, College has been full of difficulty

Yet here I stand, getting my degree

That’s God’s fault, you can’t blame me

Ebenezer means hither by God’s help I’ve come

But “help”’s a silly, quiet word

That just won’t bring this concept home

Ebenezer’s like a windmill

That thanks the wind with every spin

If you can see it moving,

You know it’s due to Him

Or maybe like a bicycle

Which cannot ride autonomously

So you know if I am moving

The Lord has pedaled me

A Toast! To Him who propels and powers us in His good plans, and who has brought me hither by His hand.

By His Grace and For His Glory.

Oh the many fears and failures

My God has had me face

He’s turned me toward the lion’s roar

And spurred me to give chase

I’ve found glorious freedom

In following these tugs

Little nudges with his knees

Inconveniently interrupting my intentions

With his incredible ideas

Let me tell you- God is hilarious.

(Just check out the platypus!)

How I love to hear God laugh!

So I often tell Him my plans.

It’s become a game we play

Guessing the possibilities planted in His paths for me

I sniff the air and say

“I smell singleness! And adoption!”

And He just sits and smiles at the surprises He has in store

He’s promised plans to prosper me

But I’m also braced to bear

A more eternal estimate of affluence

Hardship now and heaven later

Rooted in the spirit

And powered by the wind

The goal is not what I can do

But how close I can get to Him

So now we’re tacking wildly

As He gives and takes away my goals

But with each change in direction

I zigzag closer home

Oh the great commissioning

This day threatens to bring

Expectations and ambition

“GO! From GOOD to GREATER things!”

Oh, and I have heard the stories

Of great deeds done for God

I want to be a part of them

And I always have.

This secret I’ve heard whispered

By those who’ve had it trod

You don’t get what you aim for

Unless you aim for God.

If I pursue even great stories

I will fall flat on my face

Only one ambition may I keep

To depend daily deeper on His grace.

Though I wrote more pages

I have just two more toasts to make,

For my story isn’t over and

I’ll refrain more time to take.

A Toast! To ordinary Christianity, which creates extraordinary lives in tired and simple people, and to the God who has refused to give up on me even when I run fast and far. To His Grace and For His Glory.

A Toast! To God who has given me already a full quota of life abundantly: Today we look forward with breathless expectation, because every moment more I have is pure bonus, by His Grace and For His Glory.