Lonely Thomas

         “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands,
         and put my finger in the mark of the nails
         and my hand in his side,
         I will not believe.”

                  —John 20.25

Thomas longed for a Christ he didn’t have,
aware of the great space between them,
not driven to fill it.

There is a loneliness of the Spirit,
not sadness, not pathetic at all,
but a homesickness,
remembering what we long for,
patient with our unknowing,
and the dullness of our knowing,
trusting there is always more of the Beloved
than we can sense,
a great, wide solitude
we won’t clutter with less or other.

Such spaciousness leaves room
for those deep sighs
and profound joys
and mostly those calm, roomy smiles
of the saints.


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