Closing Time

In every life there comes a closing time. We should remember that as we sometimes plough our way through endless days of sorrow. Perhaps if we stopped a moment we could see the possibilities that love is offering us yet again. It is saying, “You will exit the stage soon enough. While you are yet among us, offer us your song.” And so I am.

Lately hot sweet tears run gently down my face. Crumpled tissues pile up around me and the memories are sweet yet oh, so distant now. Was I ever loved casually by God or was He always intent in His ardor for me, for his lost sheep? Such questions bring more tears, but they are healing ones.

My service towards the Good Inner Shepherd keeps taking different forms. Right now He is leading me into greening fields of confession. “I once was lost but now am found,” I croon. “Was bland but now I see.” Yes, I said “bland.” Being bland is a terrible thing, like serving applesauce to someone in need of a rare filet mignon. Like saying “like” when you should be saying “love.”

Oh, let me not be bland in my service to the creator. I am inspired these days by Leonard Cohen, who makes love to the mic like he had all the time in the world. He does; he has us charmed for eternity. Those of us following him in his latter days embrace the wisdom of his sardonic grin. For he is not lukewarm but blazing hot.

Let me be blazing hot in my service to the Word. Let it ring out. Let the halls of the internet ring, for that is what it has come to. We are not apt to ever meet in the flesh; but the spirit can still strike the hot anvil of service. I leave you with these merciful words. “Let your closing time not come until you have given us your best and we can drink a toast with our tears at your parting.” For joy arises from loss and surrender brings in a new crop of lovers and the dance goes on. Closing times go on forever and the curtain rises at eight on many new performances of love.


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