A DEFINING TIME AT A WUCWO BOARD MEETING,
Brussels 1988

We prayed, we worked, we talked,
Testing each other, to reach
An understanding which was – satisfactory.
Then a word here, a word there
And the mood was gone. Instead
A frown here, a word there
And the air was thick
With accusation.
So I went to the oratoire with its tabernacle,
The room of prayer,
A place where prayer had been valid;
Drawn by the only words there,
“Je t’aime tel que tu es.”
I sat in this room lit only
By a window, on a winter’s day
Dull and darkened by the
Leafless trees, the wind soughing
Through the still of silence.
My eyes had always adjusted and sought
The paper on the wall, trees
Yellowed in an autumn glory,
A real part of the prayerful room.
This day I came before my Lord for help,
For the division was hard and bitter.
As I entered, a light shone brilliant
Where no light was,
Shone brightly on the tabernacle and
That paper and I revelled in the glory of it.
In wonder, I saw no sunlight through the window,
No switch was turned to give this light,
Yet lit the room was, so that
The leaves on the paper trees were vivid
Gold and those words cried out again,
“Je t’aime tel que tu es”
And I sensed in all its glory
The presence of God
Enfolding me, comforting me
And I knew deep within me
That our heartache would end,
The bitterness would sweeten
And we would work in harmony yet again.

JEB

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