June 2, 2007
As the sun went down over the Colorado mountains
There opened suddenly a rift in the space-time continuum.
And one who thrilled at the freedom of flying on two wheels
Flew through that rift into a place
Where the expanse of freedom has no edge
And tumbled into Love so deep and so strong,
And yet so forgiving.
Oh God... please, no!
Oh dear God, you can't.
Dear God, he had such great plans...
Plans to draw plans to Serve the Children.
Plans to serve as your hands in this world.
And I had plans
To hear all you did in his life this summer.
To thrill at the exhilaration in his voice
As he recounts the ways you
met deep needs,
and answered prayers,
and transformed lives,
Because he flew
And some with eyes that are better than mine
Caught a glimpse through that rift
Of the flier and the Lover walking together
With their hair
In the gust of grace that flooded though that rift
and overwhelmed this one who remains behind.
And with that gust all protests ceased,
For the sweetness of Grace silenced the groans of loss.
You all are that gust of grace.
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