Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. 3 In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralysed.
Based on John 5:113, 5-16 (NRSVA)
The pool of healing
is always before me
and yet I sit in the portico
waiting.
Perhaps I sit among my family – they love me,
they cherish me just as I am
yet I see their eyes darting from the pool to me, me to the pool.
Sometimes I rest among the portico of the very word of God.
It brings me comfort.
Yet, it too stirs waters
within and without.
At time, I find my rest among covenant colleagues.
I pray for them…they pray for me.
We challenge and hold accountable.
But would we carry each other to the healing water –
stumbling, bumbling, tripping all the way?
I like to think so…I like knowing it is so.
Other times I find myself resting in the
busyness of The Work
to which I am called.
I visit…I pray…I produce…I fail to do something.
And quietly (or not so quietly, actually) I bitch at myself
for not doing more.
I guess it’s easy in this crowded portico
to direct those complaints at others I love.
And yet, there is one final entrance
one portico to the pool of healing.
It must be the one where I find myself
lounging in the shad the most…
the one where I am alone…
the one where I’ve grown comfortable…
the one where I don’t have to change
’cause nothing else ever changes.
The one where I hesitate the most – just like you.
Still. Still! Jesus comes and says,
“Do you…Do you want to be well?”
The pool of healing
is always before me
and yet I sit in the portico
waiting.
© 2014, Scott Sears
Not Quite Home 