Beware of Burdens Vainly Borne

by Jen Hunt, from the archives

One night in dry-mouthed horror you'll awaken from your bed
To find life's leaning tower hov'ring right above your head,
And whether you succumb to the vast edifice or not
To crouch beneath its creaking crease and bear its teeter-tot
As Atlas, bent and broken, buckling under global woes
Or Jacob in his tug-of-war with far more robust foes,
On this will hinge the outcome of your fate at such an hour:
If you trust in brittle bones or His sufficient power.
Forget not Him who gladly offers shoulder for such strain,
For weight so great will only cause your feeble back to sprain.
Beware of burdens vainly borne which Jesus should depose,
When waking loads loom large, why, cast them off with your bedclothes!

On Holiness, Dentists and the Wash

by Jen Hunt, from the archives

It’s not as if being set apart
Is always bad
After all, I do it with my Christmas baubles
And my laundry
Nobody I know views their dentist sideways
Simply because he doesn’t share his tools with
The podiatrist
How we got to the point where
Any effort to be holy
Is deemed holier-than-thou
I don’t know

Greater Than

by Jen Hunt, from the archives

He is louder than the thunder
Stronger than the tide
Surer than the morning
Higher than the sky
He is closer than a heartbeat
Truer than a song
Nearer than a whisper
Free from doing wrong
He is purer than a snow storm
Wiser than a king
Kinder than a mother
Lord of everything
He is greater than my best thought
Could imagine him to be
Lord of heaven come to earth
To save a wretch like me