The Rift

                                                                                                            John Grosser

                                                                          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,



But now

I can’t

Because he flew

To you.



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 streaming out
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.

Thank you.


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