451 - My House of Life

My House of Life
By G. Beverley Johnston

I. Basement

I have a shadow side ... it is not pleasant to describe,
Down through the crevasses of my being
there fall the moods and broken ideals
and ugly passions
that take up residence in the basement of
my house of life, and there,
twisted, insistent, dominant, aggressive,
they lurk behind each kindly smile,
and every thoughtful act.

I have a shadow side ... that makes for gloom and shatters pride.
Though hard I try to live in light,
and let the gleam of hope and faith make plain
the joy of truth and right,
deep in the cellar--restless and unruly--the
reminders of my mortality and imperfection
strive for their ways to be expressed.

I have a shadow side ... deep, yet not so deep inside.
While with my mind and will I know
that living loyally and true is how we were
fashioned to spend our days -
the furtive demons - Selfishness, False Pride
weaken resolve and witness for the faith.

I have a shadow side ... and with each temptation, I hide
in silence, terror, guilt, and fascination lest
I be found out and marked for dishonor by those
who do not hear the throbbing in the pools
of my unconscious; the alive signs of powers
over which I have so little control; and which if
unleashed would expose the frailty of
my mask of goodness.

G. Beverley Johnston is the minister of the Port Nelson United Church, Burlington, Ontario. He is a graduate of the Universities of Toronto and McGill and has served churches in Alberta, Saskatachewan, and Quebec. His lines, "My House of Life," were written when lie heard of the death of Carlyle Marney to whom he listened with respect and edification at summer pastors' conferences. Marney had spoken of his "balcony friends" and that triggered the idea for the poem. We are glad to print "My House of Life" for its intrinsic merit that will appeal to many and also as a tribute to Carlyle Marney, 1917-1978.

452 - My House of Life

I have a shadow side ... down, down in the cellar it abides,
among the furnace pipes, and fuses, and dark air.
It is a real part of every word I speak, motive I
entertain, action I pursue.
Devoutly do I wish that secret side were not
always present, for I, too, like to have a high opinion
of myself, and to believe that nice things said
are true.
But with the mounting years
I must confess that though I pray and
strive to be what I say ...

I have a shadow side.

II. Bedroom

There is a bedroom in my house.
I need a chance to rest.
The mattress firm and pillow soft
encourage one to drift to sleep, and then to dream.
The stuff of life is oft revealed in insubstantial dreams.
Here visions of what might be done are made most clear.
Here courage is fed, and one's real worth is seen
through eyes, though closed, are open to the truth.

There is a bedroom in my house.
A place of quiet and privacy.
We were not made to be awake both day and night.
We were not created only to stand or sit-or walk or run.
And when the shades of night blot out the sun
and heaven's dome glitters with the marvel of the stars,
then eyelids grow heavy and instinct leads us to
the room where rest and reflection mingle so oft
in ecstasy.

There is a bedroom in my house.
It is the one room where secrets are shared,
love is fed, life is encouraged, bonds are strengthened:
and the world is left to wonder what goes on
behind the closed door and awesome silence.

There is a bedroom in my house.
A place of restoration and renewal.
A place of personal involvement.
A place of refuge and strength.
A place to remember God and family.

There is a bedroom in my house.

453 - My House of Life

III. Balcony

I need a balcony friend--to more than more than match the pull of the cellar,
and confirm the affirmations of the bedroom.
I need the listening ear of some impartial observer
of the complex gifts that make up the character that is me.
I need someone who would never betray a confidence,
and yet, whose wisdom surrounds the incompleteness of
my understanding.
I need the therapeutic forgiveness that comes when
freed from shadow's spell.

I need a balcony friend--who towers above the abyss of the cellar.

I need a balcony friend--who encourages risk, and service, and
fulfillment beyond the security of the bedroom.
I need that special caring that can bring back
true pride of self, and lead me with easy grace to
disdain the lure of basement wares, and thankfully affirm that
dirt and darkness are not the sum total of our span of days.

I need a balcony friend--whose feet on that platform
are always arched in readiness
to take my side, regardless of the worthiness of my motives;
who is prepared to speak the hard truth, and yet without
condemnation, understands the mysterious humanity which
scandalizes the professions which suggest there is a
divinity within our souls.

I need a balcony friend--one who causes me to stretch, to have
pride of membership in the human family;
whose empathy is evidenced in
moods and misgivings to match my own.

I need a balcony friend--a member of the Communion of Saints,
whose
heart beats in tune with my heart's need.

I need a balcony friend--to help me cope, to cheer me on,
to hear me out, to shape me up--my private church.

I need a balcony friend--who, fresh from victory over shadow
shares strength to pull me up from the grime of the cellar.

I need a balcony friend, who against all reason believes in me.
The writer of the Book of Hebrews speaks of the balcony people
in his life--
Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, Moses, Gideon,
Barak, Samson, Jepthah, David, Samuel ...
They conquered kingdoms, did what was right, and earned the promises.
But each one had a shadow side and knew the struggle to be human.

454 - My House of Life

I need a balcony friend-who will help me understand
who I am, and make me believe in myself.

I need a balcony friend-who invites me out to the fresh air
and broad horizons-to stand beside him
as I gaze with new appreciation on a world that aches
in loneliness and evil and yearns for renewal and hope.

I need a balcony friend-who tested by the hurts and terrors
of life is now without fear; and through his link
with the Author of Creation confirms the knowledge that
life is indeed worth living-so long as there is forgiveness
received, purpose recognized, and opportunity for
spiritual growth.

I need a balcony friend-who close to the One who calls us friend
stoops in the gloom to reach a hand that
gropes for reassurance and trust, and willingly
shares the completeness of himself that I might rise
to take my place among the inspirations and dreams
he represents.