To those who have come and gone
To those I’ve yet to meet
To our heart to hearts; our times of seeking and sharing;
of laughter and music and hope
This is my ode to you.
To what has been and what will be
To meeting in awkward, hopeful silence
To questions like ‘why are you here?’ by perfect strangers
To communal meals and trips to Sainsbury’s when there was no Tesco
To soup on tuesdays and thursdays
and raking leaves day after day
To loud political debates in the lounge
and 5 cups of tea a day
To questions about who Jesus is,
and where he was in our sadness
To cold nights and seeing frost for the first time
To standing in truth and being honest about scary things.
To seeing the world and injustice in a way that hurts
To devotionals at 5 AM
and encountering the smell and feel and beauty of Thailand
To painting walls and leaving behind hope
To seeking Jesus again and again
To friendships we didn’t see coming
and depth and vulnerability I didn’t know I could share.
To rainy days and art murals
To drop in centers and screaming “You Matter!”
To the goodbyes and the lows
To beginning again with new faces.
To breaking down walls and changing my mind
To pursuing people and not numbers
To seeing Jesus as real and lasting
To those who were there when it would have been easier to leave.
To peppermint tea and poetry nights
To camping in the freezing rain
To believing in better things together
To goodbyes again
To hello Cambodia
To reality and poverty and hopeful hands
To wondering ‘what can I really give?’
To seeing love is all we have,
and truly is more than enough.
To 10 airplanes
and little sleep
To graduation and here we go agains
To the valleys of Post-DTS
and dreams of the mountain again.
To the people on their way
seeking the ocean and the journey ahead.
Our path is long
and our backpacks are heavy,
but our days will be good.
To the beginnings and the endings
to all our hellos and all our goodbyes.
This is my ode to you.
Let us not grow weary
Hope is in the journey
Love is found in the moments of pushing towards the clouds.
We will meet our maker
and we will live in community once again
From today to kingdom come
this is my ode to those
I have loved
and those I miss
and those I have yet to meet.
Hope has feet.
Poetry is a form of expression that predates literacy; historians suggest that poetry dates back to a time when tales of valour and honour were remembered only by those who used story telling to pass history down through the power of voice. There is something remarkable in poetry, the way that one uses simple words to describe that which is at the core of us all, the words that come directly from the heart. There is a beauty in the poets voice, a beauty in the sharing of our stories, ideas, inspiration through this form that is found in no other.Due to this, I thought it appropriate to have a format in this blog to express those things about the one we love the most, Jesus, and the missional life that we have all devoted ourselves to. -Abigail Hall