The Casing Finally Broken

It began with a burned finger

Mother had warned

About the stove-top

I was about three

And could not be told

Had to discover the truth

For myself

Stunning and humiliating.

And self-defense

Became a priority.

Later school yard kids

Strange men at shopping malls

Homework incomplete

But without honest excuse

The dating scenes

Demands of the job

Half-truths told

And left unconfessed

On many fronts.

That indispensable shell

Was hardening

Against pain, embarassment

Duty or discovery

I called it self-preservation

The way things had to be.

But my world was shrinking

And darkening

Less satisfaction with every week

So many things

Buttoned-down in me

Seemingly under wraps

But unseemly.

Occasionally there shone some light

Some inkling of a better way

Beyond me

An image or a stanza of a song

Or even a Gospel word

Or smile on some arresting face.

But the shell, the casement

Was hard and persistent.

I heard later that there

Had been prayer

A few friends already broken free

Aware of my struggle

And directed by the Heavenlies

To speak revolution, fresh air

And jail-break

Into my little drama

They called it “repentance”

And I was free

By the power of Christ


And brilliantly dependent.

(2 Timothy 2: 25)


Published by


Married and father of two. Living in Waterloo, Ontario. Workplace health and safety professional. Blogger. Poet. Nature hiker. History buff. Inspirational writer. Newsboy for Jesus.

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