My Quarantine Jeans


My hair is a mess, but my house is clean.

Sitting here in my quarantine jeans.

It all seemed normal just a few months ago.

Life with a newborn is about the same.

Stuck in the house, despite no rain.

Changing diapers, pumping milk, matronly duties,

But it all has a different air about it now.

The sound of the percolator rings in my ears.

Although this lockdown makes me want to drink beers.

Sitting here in my quarantine jeans.
I’m not sure how to feel.



Oh, Great One.

Your grace is sufficient for all, oh Great One. 

Undeserving we all truly are. 

So how do I grasp what I cannot touch?  My fleshly hands fondle for you.  

The world rejects me, even in my good works.  

How far I've come from the disgrace I was. Yet somehow, I become more a sojourner, the sweeter I am to the world.  

The prince of this place surely set his standards.  

But The King has overcome.  

He is risen and never to fall again, the inheritence is to him.

Oh Great One, one in three is thee.  

Father, Son and Holy Spirit, reign on me! 

In your glory is where I delight, despite the battles of the fight.  

The fight for truth, the fight for love. 

Your glory among us is high above.

Your grace is sufficient for all, Great One. 

A sinner I am, and here will be. 

But your blood has made it white as snow, my garments are forever clean.

On your grace I lean, although still bemused how to grasp a love so undeserving. 

The cruel world, all the while has broken me down.

Even before I knew you, and continues so. Perhaps this is but a token of your mercy. 

Always I having been transient in this place .

My begotten name an ode to this, by definition- A stranger in a foreign land I am, as you once were. 

But your grace is sufficient for all, Great One.