Tag Archives: Grace Pelley

Dear God, I was listening to the Voxology podcast two weeks ago, and they were talking about this special camp in Alabama for children with disabilities. One of the hosts, who is a pastor and also the father of a son with Down Syndrome, described the camp from his experience of having just taken his son there and also being a volunteer. The place sounds amazing.

During his description of the camp, he talked about this woman with cerebral palsey. Her name is Grace Pelley, and she has written a wonderful book of poetry called A Measured Universe. He read two poems from the book, and I knew I had to get it for my wife. It came in last week. I’ve only looked at a few of the poems, but knowing the personal pain and frustration from which they are written makes them incredibly rich in meaning.

I decided I wanted to spend some time with one of these poems and see what kind of insights Ms. Pelley might have for me. What I might learn about you through her. But being someone who doesn’t spend much time with poetry, I wanted to start with a shorter one. I’ll pick some longer ones later.

This first one–“Secure”–did not disappoint. Just starting with the title, this makes me think about the pastor I heard back in 2020 who said we make an idol out of “certainty.” We want to feel certain, i.e. secure. We want to know what’s going on.

Before I start with the poem, the title alone makes me think of Job 38:4-5, when you are setting Job straight, so to speak:

⁴ “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?
    Tell me, if you know so much.
⁵ Who determined its dimensions
    and stretched out the surveying line?

Your universe is measured and intentional. I have to accept that I cannot always see why. I’m sure Ms. Pelley has struggled to see why sometimes too. But she has found your universe to be measured, indeed.

So what do I see here?

• “Beyond what we can see is the real Reality and its good, gracious King.” Beyond the reality I can see. I can see so little of what is happening around me. Powers. Principalities. Plans beyond my comprehension.
• “He exalts children.” Jesus and the children. Those who offer nothing. As adults, we think we have something to offer, but to you, we have no more to offer than the child who brings us a fingerpainting and thinks they’ve given us the world. And to their parent, they have. And to you, our Father, we have. I wonder if we get disappointed in ourselves because we don’t realize just how much closer to being children we are than being like you.
• “And crowns those the world discards.” I think of the people who Jesus healed. Then I think of the man on the cross Jesus forgave. A discarded person if ever there was one. He didn’t even repent. He just worshipped and revered.
• “Already his rule is slipping out from the veil and finding us.” We can’t see you, but we get glimpses. We get moments. Visitations. Maybe from angels we are hosting unaware. Maybe through the words of a friend or a poetry book suggested by a podcast host. Maybe through the nature you created that sometimes breaks beyond what we can control. You are too big and mighty to be hidden. And then you sent Jesus. We got a real good look at you through…well, you. You lifted the veil for 33 years and gave us a good look.
• “The curatin will be lifted soon.” In death? Certainly. Possibly in the second coming of Jesus in my lifetime, although I doubt it. More likely in death, I will see through this veil. This curtain. I’ll see it all. It reminds me of the last letter in Screwtape Letters, when, after the human “patient” dies in a bombing, the master demon Screwtape asks the demon Wormwood what it was like when the human saw him for the first time. I cannot imagine what the first moment looking through the curtain will look like.
• “and we’ll know He never could have lost.” This goes back to the idol of our certainty. The reality is big and it is obvious. We just cannot see it–yet.
• “There is nothing to fear.” ‘Nuff said.

Father, there is nothing to fear. There are things to mourn. There are things to struggle against with your power and for the sake of others more than myself. But there is nothing to fear. The reality is that you will never lose.

I pray all of this in Jesus and with your Holy Spirit,

Amen