Mysterious Ways Poem by Jim Yerman

Mysterious Ways



I remember one day when I was young we had just returned home from church
When I immediately spread out a map and asked Mom and Dad to help with my search.

“What are we searching for? ” Mom asked as she indulged me in one of my quirks.
‘Where God lives.” I said as I scanned the map. “Do you think he lives in the same town where he works?

“Where God lives? ” Dad asked quizzically, “Why is that a subject you want to explore? ”
(Parents! Why do they respond to a question with a question when it’s an answer that we’re looking for?)

“Well, Dad works and lives here in Twinsburg”, I said using logic I thought ironclad
Since I know where God works, I was hoping he too lives where he works, just like Dad.

“And just where does God work? ” Mom smiled, trying to mask her lingering doubt.
“I think he works in Ohio! ” I said, “At least that’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“How do you know he lives in Ohio? Dad asked, “What could possibly make you think that way? ”
“Father McGinnis, ” I said still searching the map, “he said so in church today.”

When he was talking about that girl who died he said, “We have to have faith and pray.”
“Even if we don’t understand, ” he said, “remember God works in Mysterious Ways.”

“If Mysterious Ways is in Ohio, I could go to his house or give him a call
And ask him why he chose that little girl...why did she have to die after all.”

Mom smiled, put her chair next to mine then her long arms surrounded me
“Mysterious Ways is not a place, ” she said, “its how we explain a God we can’t see.”

“What Father McGinnis was talking about, what I think he meant to say
Was that God doesn’t work in Mysterious Ways, Ohio but he does work in mysterious ways.”

“Faith doesn’t mean we understand everything, for often we don’t, but still
Faith is accepting then knowing and believing...someday, somehow that we will.”

I never quite grasped Mom’s explanation, which is perhaps why I continue to try
To find where God lives so I can ask him myself, why did that little girl die?

It’s a question that has haunted me from that moment and is why when I travel today
I buy a new map, spread it out on the table and search for Mysterious Ways.

I’m not sure I’ll ever find it, but I’ll keep trying until the time of rebirth
And God I want you to know I’m getting closer...I just downloaded Google Earth!

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
A poem about a question I had after church one day when I was little.
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