I wanna eat with you, fancy dinners, enlightened dining halls. I know there’s some logic to what you’ve said. And every mountain you’ve placed before me, I haven’t climbed well. I haven’t used the bones that lay there inside me, I’ve had a scrawny body. And I’ve been quite out of shape. And I refused the water holes that seemed to appear there right before me. I said they were mirages. But I wasn’t in a desert. And had it all been a mirage? It was all just okay because the rest of them were crying. While the rest of them were dying, it was okay if I laid down with them. I’m not far from the bottom, and when I reach the top, you’ll see it in my eyes that I’ve barely scraped by. And my knees are black already, so who knows if they’ll even be there when I get to you. How could I bow with knees like these? But before we sit down to dinner, I’ll find a way to wash up.
Oh, child, come dirty, come clean. This dinner isn’t the fanciest thing you’ve ever seen, but there’s love all around the old wooden table, carved out of grace, and it was you that I embraced, while you were stumblin’ ’round the garden lookin’ for a cliff to climb. You said ‘no’ to water, so I gave you blood, and good God, there’ll come a flood to quench your thirst, oh child. So, listen now, with ears to hear, the music whispering through your ear, the waters pouring of my love – the tears you cried were from above, and all that came that got you down, your face felt buried deep in the ground. From there I made you, dust and dirt, knees to kneel, to pray and work, and all the while, they laughed and died and those who wanted suicide to come back to me, homeward bound – all those lost were finally found, like sheep who shun the shepherd’s shout in hopes to maybe live without the pain and grub that ruined your knees, that made you think it’s hard to please, but oh dear child, you’ve won the race, cause long ago, I took your place with arms outstretched and nails that pierced. No knees were needed. I’ve heard your fears, so when you come to eat this meal, I know, my child, just how you feel, and whether you come clean or not, just come hungry for a lot of love and faith and healing grace. I’ll be here within this place, like all the while, I’ve always been; if you forget, just look within.
– co-written with Rachel Ross