God’s Act in Acts

A blast of wind grates its weight
across our church’s slate roof, tugs
at the stained glass windows. And just at
this moment a wild morning sun blazes
through the nave like a signal, blessing
the altar, lighting the preacher’s face.

And I remember the ancient story–
about a sacred wind that carried Your
hot breath. A wildfire, it licked
the heads of the locals, formed words,
spread in a conflagration of gospel speech,
grew until whole languages roared
beyond all borders.

Strike our dull matches. Light us today
even if our dark wicks only flicker in a corner.
Translate our lives into Your words.

Luci Shaw