Stable Poetry

Below is poetry produced by members of the congregation at one of our all age services, when we were looking at John 13:1-17, where Jesus washes His disciples' feet.

Jesus walked the earth,
Mud and grit got stuck between His toes and under His nails.
The sharp stones cut His feet,
The stones that were made for Him,
The grass blades were made for Him,
All things around us too come to pass because of Him.
The stones and dirt have their being because of Him.

David Ellis

In the bustle,
A quiet, serving place is made
Everything expelled
To allow meaningful intimacy.
Each is special,
Deserving full attention and affirmation
Teaching us to serve
To get out of the flow

To become what God
Has called us to be.

                                Anonymous

Feet...

Dirty & smelly

Who wants to touch them?

Especially someone else’s!

Jesus would,

Jesus did.

First as an act of love,

then to show us what true

leadership means – is to serve

with humility, making Himself

lower than us.

To receive love from those who

want to wash His feet with

expensive perfume.

To be humble and receive from

those who want to serve and

bless us.

                                    Mirella Humbert

Feet

from which blood would be spilt

Feet

which walked my way

Feet

which ruled over the earth

and all that is in it

His feet are now my feet

My feet are to walk

where they are needed.

My feet are to sense

the dirt between my feet.

My feet will grow old and tired

my feet will become calloused

May this be in the service of

My God and others

So that my soul will

remain unblemished.

                                    Neil Ruckman

F orgiven

E very

E vil

T ransgression

Ben Cutting

The knotted feet are ugly

Yet the bronze lines soothe me

With their intimacy, watching the

Water washing the knots of my cares away.

This closeness disturbs me,

These feet repel and entrance me.

I crave more of the serious hope

I see in their faces and on their feet.

                                                Anonymous

                        Going forward, propelling

                        Us toward our end.

                        Starting the journey,

                        Negotiating each bend.

                        Tiring then resting,

                        Stirring then moving,

                        Taking us on to our goal.



                                                Ayo Stubbs

The Stable Church

Stable Poetry