Lamar Howell's Weblog

 

Call me Ishmael

Hate me if you will

Wish me into oblivion

I will not go like a hidden son

Because I am meant to exist

I feel my destiny

 

You call me a mistake

I am not

I am the fruit of the designs

of the great-grandmother of Judah,

I was mocked by her jealousy

She embittered her husband’s very son

I was undone by her

while my father looked away

 

I was mocked and rejected

but found by Yahweh in the rocky desert

He followed the hollow sounds of abandonment,

gave me sweet water

To wash down the sharp iron dust of rejection

 

There God gave me a destiny

a hope toward which I must plod

The Angel of the Lord

promised me greatness

progeny

Kings and Princes

among my descendants

 

His presence guided me in my youth

God gave me skill

made me an expert archer

To find the mark

and bring down the prey

As if to say

He wants my life sustained

 

God gave me a wife

and children

The best of Egypt

The richness of the Nile

 

I will find my way back

to Abraham

To the God of Abraham

and my God

Embraced as a worthy son

Dying to live and forgive

and be forgiven

Hate me if you will

But do not ignore me

Call me Ishmael.