Who Sleep on Holy Stones: A Meditation on Genesis 28:10-17

Bearer of curse and blessing,I left home to stumble into the desert.Exhausted and empty,I watch fierce sun set over silent stones.Stars ascend towards midnight.The wind moans through desert canyons,And clouds drift across a full moon like shimmering angles.Broken and empty, I come to you, O Lord God.In a desert midnight,There is no smell of blessed fieldsNo grainNo wineNo fatness of earthNo sweet dew of heaven.Alone, I sleep on holy stones,Under stars that blaze fierce and countless as dust.The wind moans high above me, through desert canyons.Clouds veil the moon.Strong, shining faces of angels appear.MichaelGabrielRaphaelLean down to earth.Their glittering swords carve stones into steps to heaven.Angels descend in silence to gaze into my face.Angels ascend in silence to bear my deceit away.Then in a shimmering, celestial danceOf turning wingsSwirling wingsThey sweep aside clouds.I see a heavenly host as countless as dust.I hear a heavenly host, their voices joined by joyous stars.Glory to God in the highest. . .And on earth. . .peace.Their alleluias echoing high above desert canyons,The Holy One descends from the gate of heavenTo stand beside my stone pillow.To wrap my empty fearsIn an eternal mantle of blessing.To hallow the ground on which I sleep.Michael veils the moon with his wings.And the only light I see is God.I left home, soul that raged with wild emptiness,And in this desert wilderness,Angels carve holy names for sleep.They dance a path between me and You,O Lord God.You have found me, broken and empty,On holy stones that ascend to the very gates of heaven.And you have not cursed me.In a desert midnight, I knowThe smell of blessed fieldsGrainWineFatness of earthThe sweet dew of heaven.I will tell of You, O Lord God,To laughing children who bless my tent,To strong children who become tribes as countless as dust.I will tell them of desert midnights filled with blazing stars,Of fierce angels who carve holy stonesAnd dance with glittering swords among clouds,Of hymns sung by joyous starts over BethelAnd over Bethlehem.(c) The Rev. Dr. Sheila N. McJiltonPublished in the Anglican Theological ReviewWinter 2000, Vol 82, No. 1