An Offering by Katy Comber

When people do this, Offertory, when members of the community voluntarily come up to speak or perform in dedication to God through their art, their craft, their vocation, and/or their time, if you look to where I’m sitting, I will be grinning like a maniac. I love this time of the service. It’s my favorite. Also, I’m the presenter’s check point. I help them flush out their ideas and provide encouragement.

So, in preparing for this I realized that I might have to talk to myself, and how awkward that might be… not for the reason you might think, I do talk to myself a considerable amount, but it’s usually a discussion about a character’s motivation or a semicolon placement or whether our affinity for the Oxford comma has altered due to societal pressures. A conversation in which I am checking in with myself about well, me, my relationship with God, and how I’m spending my time to glorify Him is difficult to broach and somewhat strained. So with all difficult and painful subjects, myself and I did what we do and focused on the language.

 

Self Reflection

By Katy Comber

I’ve got to check in with you.
I’ve got to know
Where our heart is

Aw man can’t we just—

No.

But the schedule is bursting today
That deadline

—You mean self imposed distraction—

—is coming up—

—from loneliness, complacency, anger—

Stop. Those words must wait.
Other words can be our signatures today.
Let’s check out of here.

Where are we?

Let’s leave.
Just for a moment
Focus on the good things,
all those things we do,
They’re all for Him!

But where are we?

I am stumped and chastened
Blocked from my friend, language
In vanity, then hope,
I search in the blankness
Until I see...

Mara.

I will call her Mara

By Katy Comber

I will call her Mara.
Mara clamors! and gambols! and spins!
in my mind
when desperation grows  
for solitude
for grace
for restoration
my imaginary friend is L O U D

I will call her Mara.
Mara cautions my bravery
Mara calls me Burden
Mara nestles into my reluctance
and Mara wraps herself
in a quilt of my regrets

I will call her Mara
As I cling to the hope
of Naomi

Ruth 1:19-21

So they both went until they came to Bethlehem. And when they had come to Bethlehem, all the city was stirred because of them, and the women said, "Is this Naomi?" 20She said to them, "Do not call me Naomi [delighted, lovely]; call me Mara [bitter], for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. 21"I went out full, but the LORD has brought me back empty.”…


Self Reflections Cont’d

By Katy Comber

Well?

Sure. 

Now we know. 

So? 

What do you mean, So? 

So, what’s next? 
What do we do

How about Faith? 

Could use revisions. 

Okay. Want to switch to up that pronoun? 

Dude. Stop. NO. Keep this somewhat removed. 

But it’s your work. 

She is fine. 
Let’s leave the She

Fine. How does it start again? 


Faith

By Katy Comber

Into the valley she ambled—
Searching amidst shadows
For joy, for purpose, for calling
Into the earth she stumbled—
Following a spark of light
Down a Rabbit hole
Tunneling through dusty funnels
 no end in sight, yet
waiting for glorious light to gleam again.

The smoke came first.
Still she walked.
Vision hazy and hair gray with ash.
Rocks beneath began to burn.
Still she walked.
Feet blistered and shoes with melting soles.
Fire burst before her.
Still she walked.
Skin charring and mouth thick with flame.
The air began to cool.
Still she walked.
Her blackened body shedding to the ground,
rough
            bitter
                        flakes. The darkness opened to a weeping sky.
Still she walked.
Her naked limbs raw and fresh and her hands reaching up
to the One she trusted. 


This is what the LORD has done for me.