»God not only loves to hear our stories, he loves to tell his own. And, quite simply, we are the story God tells. Our very lives are the words that come from his mouth. This insight has always fired the religious imagination, refusing to be rationalized or dismissed. The conviction that we are God’s story releases primordial impulses and out of a mixture of belligerence, gratitude, and imitation we return the compliment. We tell stories of God.«  John Shea, Stories of God

For this reason we use this page to regularly offer new stories and reflections out of the world of literature, music and art.

Nächster Abschnitt

Safely Carried

I admit

to not being immune

against the deathly fear

that gnaws at my heart

that sought to warm my heart at false fires

I only wanted to be close to him

Nightmare, what an abyss opens up,

outcry, death, over and done with?!

I attempt daily life

fished without sight in the gloom

then we dared to follow

the call of an apparent Stranger:

the morning draws nigh, fish one more time, on the right side

only now do I feel, that I am naked

try to clothe myself

which allows me

to leap from familiar protective space

recognise him, who, like fire, fish and bread is not yet

not too blinded by trauma: how does one live without him

Only recognise myself again

as he asked me three time in a row, whether I love him

why does my heart take so long

Who does not know this?

Only he can accept me as I am

does not spare me, for the sake of healing

rock-softening tears flow

finally I admit to myself

I want to continue to shepherd

to love against injustice

never to be immune

 

Sylvia Ditt

Koblenz, April 22nd, 2021