Hospitality

Well, poems have been few and far between at The Consolations of Writing recently, mostly because – I must admit – I’ve been slightly distracted by my recent engagement to an absolutely wonderful girl, Hannah. This week I have distractions of another kind: a week-long, short-term mission in my own city, Melbourne. Today’s poem is a reflection on what it means to open ourselves in Christ-like love to the stranger in our home.

Hospitality

Open my hands:
You have opened Your hands;
You had nails scar Your hands.
      Open heart.

Open my fists:
You have unclenched Your fists;
You have satisfied wrath.
      Open hands.

Open my heart:
You have sword-pierced Your heart;
You have loved with Your scars.
Open fists, hands and heart:
       Open, heart.