"You know what your problem is?"
She asked me
In that knowing way
That reveals me.
"You can't let anything go."
It is one of the traits
I loathe about myself,
Played out
In the microcosm of the office,
And the macrocosm of life.
The dwelling and brooding
Are so loud,
So consuming sometimes,
That I nearly drown
In their wake.
I disintegrated slightly
In my boss' office
As she tried to make sense of
What was unraveling me.
I left, feeling foolish and tongue-tied,
Having allowed ridiculous emotions
Over inconsequential nonsense
To master me again.
I am Switchfoot's "Mess of Me" embodied -
Stressed out,
Strapped,
Overwhelmed,
And sleep-deprived.
I could only shake my head
And walk away,
Leaving her to wonder
What was eating at me.
As I said goodnight,
I am not sure if it was disgust I saw
Written on her face.
Disgust in my weakness?
My cracking?
My inability to pull myself
Out of the hole I place myself into?
Today,
She tells me
That it has been one time too many
That I have left her office
Making her look like
The bad guy
Over nothing.
She tells me
She is going to pull back,
Away from me,
And I feel her noninvolvement with me
Like a blight all day.
O Lord,
The absence of her
Burns worse than the scrutiny
I am so fearful of encountering.
I did not mean to offend,
But I have done it regardless.
Help her understand
That I am my own rock of offense,
My own stumbling stone.
Lord...
You and I know
That You use the Aussie
To speak words to me
For my spiritual edification.
If this is an analogy
Of life with You
Versus life without You...
I submit to Your scrutiny,
Your teaching.
Give me correction and Presence
Because Your Absence
Isn't something I can bear!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
On Loan (aka The Steward)
Father,
You have been pursuing me
For several days now,
Trying to teach me something
Through my aging cat.
She has been suffering since Wednesday
And I have teetered on
The brink of despair,
Facing decisions
I do not wish to make.
I looked up the word "beasts"
In the concordance,
And was confronted by the following verses
From Psalm 50:
"For every beast of the forest is mine,
the cattle on a thousand hills.
I know all the birds of the hills,
and all that moves in the field is mine."*
I've been thinking about these lines
For several days,
And last night
When I was talking
With You and the cat,
I remembered the parable
Of the talents
In Matthew 25.
Everything I have
Is on loan from You.
I am nothing less
And nothing more
Than a steward
Of all You have given me.
Every pet in my care,
Every family member,
Friend,
Resource,
Talent,
Gift -
Everything,
Everything! -
Is on loan
From You.
Anything I possess
Is temporary,
Until it leaves me,
Or I leave it.
You alone
Have the power
To recall it all.
Lord, my God,
Don't let me be wasteful
Of all you have blessed me with!
Don't let me
Bury a talent of gold in the field
For fear of You,
Or fear of disappointing You.
Let me cherish
And embrace
And care for
And love
Every piece
And every pet
And every person
In my wacky life.
Give me peace of mind
And trust in You.
Take from me
My anxiousness
And worry,
And the illusion of control
I try so desperately
To bury myself in.
Give me discernment
To make the right decisions,
Decisions in line with
Your Will.
Give me discernment to see
When a situation
Is totally out of my hands,
And resting in Yours.
The cat told me
It wasn't yet time.
I left it up to You,
Brought her to the vet
(I couldn't allow the suffering to continue!)
And am now on my way
To bring her home.
I understand now
That she is Yours
Before she is mine.
Indeed...
I am Yours
Before I am mine.
It's all on loan,
Because it all stems
From You.
Build me up to be
A strong, faithful steward,
My God...
That I may yield
Pleasing firstfruits
To the praise and glory
Of Your Name!
* v. 10-11
You have been pursuing me
For several days now,
Trying to teach me something
Through my aging cat.
She has been suffering since Wednesday
And I have teetered on
The brink of despair,
Facing decisions
I do not wish to make.
I looked up the word "beasts"
In the concordance,
And was confronted by the following verses
From Psalm 50:
"For every beast of the forest is mine,
the cattle on a thousand hills.
I know all the birds of the hills,
and all that moves in the field is mine."*
I've been thinking about these lines
For several days,
And last night
When I was talking
With You and the cat,
I remembered the parable
Of the talents
In Matthew 25.
Everything I have
Is on loan from You.
I am nothing less
And nothing more
Than a steward
Of all You have given me.
Every pet in my care,
Every family member,
Friend,
Resource,
Talent,
Gift -
Everything,
Everything! -
Is on loan
From You.
Anything I possess
Is temporary,
Until it leaves me,
Or I leave it.
You alone
Have the power
To recall it all.
Lord, my God,
Don't let me be wasteful
Of all you have blessed me with!
Don't let me
Bury a talent of gold in the field
For fear of You,
Or fear of disappointing You.
Let me cherish
And embrace
And care for
And love
Every piece
And every pet
And every person
In my wacky life.
Give me peace of mind
And trust in You.
Take from me
My anxiousness
And worry,
And the illusion of control
I try so desperately
To bury myself in.
Give me discernment
To make the right decisions,
Decisions in line with
Your Will.
Give me discernment to see
When a situation
Is totally out of my hands,
And resting in Yours.
The cat told me
It wasn't yet time.
I left it up to You,
Brought her to the vet
(I couldn't allow the suffering to continue!)
And am now on my way
To bring her home.
I understand now
That she is Yours
Before she is mine.
Indeed...
I am Yours
Before I am mine.
It's all on loan,
Because it all stems
From You.
Build me up to be
A strong, faithful steward,
My God...
That I may yield
Pleasing firstfruits
To the praise and glory
Of Your Name!
* v. 10-11
Unfinished...
I moved into my apartment
A year and a half ago,
And there are still boxes unpacked.
They are the charged boxes -
The detritus and bric-a-brac
Of a lifetime of memories and sins.
I subconsciously avoid them,
Preferring the limbo,
Navigating the apartment's maze
With the deftness of a ninja.
One of the boxes
Contains notes, letters, and cards
From my parents.
I fear this box the most,
Fear what will happen
If I were to open it
And see...
...My father's very European letters,
The ones I forged
On the VA checks
When he was in the hospital
And we needed to deposit his pension...
...The notes that would refer to me
As Princess
And ask me
To watch after my mother and sister...
...My mother's large, flamboyant scrawl
That I have never seen duplicated,
Each letter so vast
The paper would curl beneath the
Weight of her words...
...The cards that would refer to me
As Angel Face,
And tell me I was brilliant, and beautiful,
And that I could be anything
I put my mind to...
"The pen is mightier than the sword"
Would be my family's coat of arms.
Words and more words,
Ringing me about
Like the walls of Jericho,
Protecting, encouraging, exhorting -
But even the walls of Jericho
Were laid low
By the hand of God.
The notes stopped coming
From them both
Far too soon!
How do I dare touch a box
As loaded and charged as this?...
A box filled with everything
That is now lost?
Surely I will be brought to my knees
If I face a decade of griefs
I've been desperately eluding!
O My Lord God,
Still me, still me!
I feel like I will ignite,
Will open my mouth to scream
And never stop.
Will this grief ever leave me?
Can You take it from me
Without me facing it,
Or is that the whole point?
Must I be purified like gold in a furnace?
Must I be expunged of the guilt and grief,
In order to become stronger,
More resilient, more pure?
Will facing the demons
Finally exorcise them?
Hold on to me
As I tread slowly down
The path You lead me.
I do not understand my life,
Nonetheless...
I trust You with it...
A year and a half ago,
And there are still boxes unpacked.
They are the charged boxes -
The detritus and bric-a-brac
Of a lifetime of memories and sins.
I subconsciously avoid them,
Preferring the limbo,
Navigating the apartment's maze
With the deftness of a ninja.
One of the boxes
Contains notes, letters, and cards
From my parents.
I fear this box the most,
Fear what will happen
If I were to open it
And see...
...My father's very European letters,
The ones I forged
On the VA checks
When he was in the hospital
And we needed to deposit his pension...
...The notes that would refer to me
As Princess
And ask me
To watch after my mother and sister...
...My mother's large, flamboyant scrawl
That I have never seen duplicated,
Each letter so vast
The paper would curl beneath the
Weight of her words...
...The cards that would refer to me
As Angel Face,
And tell me I was brilliant, and beautiful,
And that I could be anything
I put my mind to...
"The pen is mightier than the sword"
Would be my family's coat of arms.
Words and more words,
Ringing me about
Like the walls of Jericho,
Protecting, encouraging, exhorting -
But even the walls of Jericho
Were laid low
By the hand of God.
The notes stopped coming
From them both
Far too soon!
How do I dare touch a box
As loaded and charged as this?...
A box filled with everything
That is now lost?
Surely I will be brought to my knees
If I face a decade of griefs
I've been desperately eluding!
O My Lord God,
Still me, still me!
I feel like I will ignite,
Will open my mouth to scream
And never stop.
Will this grief ever leave me?
Can You take it from me
Without me facing it,
Or is that the whole point?
Must I be purified like gold in a furnace?
Must I be expunged of the guilt and grief,
In order to become stronger,
More resilient, more pure?
Will facing the demons
Finally exorcise them?
Hold on to me
As I tread slowly down
The path You lead me.
I do not understand my life,
Nonetheless...
I trust You with it...
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Cinderblock Walks
In grammar school,
I had no friends.
I was the classic scapegoat:
Overweight, oversmart, oversensitive.
The chain-linked schoolyard was ringed
With an inner perimeter
Of cinderblocks.
When the teasing became too much,
And the emotions too raw,
I would balance atop the cinderblocks
And circuit the schoolyard.
Old habits die hard.
Feeling distressed,
I found myself
Walking the perimeter
Protecting the plants
That grow in Metrotech.
I thought,
"What am I doing?"
But then,
A small Voice
Whispered in my spirit,
"I walked with you then.
I walk with you now.
Let Me still your soul.
Just walk with me."
And the stress of the day
Ever-so-slightly ebbed..
I had no friends.
I was the classic scapegoat:
Overweight, oversmart, oversensitive.
The chain-linked schoolyard was ringed
With an inner perimeter
Of cinderblocks.
When the teasing became too much,
And the emotions too raw,
I would balance atop the cinderblocks
And circuit the schoolyard.
Old habits die hard.
Feeling distressed,
I found myself
Walking the perimeter
Protecting the plants
That grow in Metrotech.
I thought,
"What am I doing?"
But then,
A small Voice
Whispered in my spirit,
"I walked with you then.
I walk with you now.
Let Me still your soul.
Just walk with me."
And the stress of the day
Ever-so-slightly ebbed..
2 Corinthians 12:9 - A Meditation
"...'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness'."
Why do You make days like these,
O My Lord?
Days where the cat is suddenly not well
And I tremble within, as is my nature...
Where I am confronted with medical tests
And questions about pregnancy
(It might be nice to answer "I might be," for a change!)
And near-nakedness before strangers
(You know how I feel about that!)
And confinement in a tube that felt like
Being buried alive...
Days where I anxiously wait for test results,
And cannot still my thoughts or imagination,
And a song I hear for the first time
Is enough to bring me
To my knees...*
Father,
It's not even 10:30 yet,
And we both know the struggles that erupt
Since Wednesdays this Lent.
Father,
I am already worn.
The day is not even half over.
Strengthen me.
Be made perfect
In my weakness.
Firelight, "For Those Who Wait"
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Lightning Strike
I felt the thunderclap
In my spine,
And involuntarily prayed,
"God, please, not my house."
The king of the castle returned moments later,
Telling of firetrucks
On the lawn
Of the New Utrecht Reformed Church,
Putting out the smoking steeple
Of the parish house directly behind.
"Isn't that weird," he commented,
"Lightning striking a church!
Like...God striking... God!"
His words stir thoughts within me.
I think of the natural world
At war with us,
Aching to snatch us up
In one earthquake, volcano,
Tornado, flood, wildfire,
Or other natural disaster.
Then I think about the fact
That the lightning struck
The unoccupied parish house and,
Thankfully,
None of the occupied houses
Everywhere surrounding it.
Lastly, I think about
God striking God...
God made Man,
Taking the lightning strike
For all humanity
So that we might inherit
Eternal Life!
Father,
Thank you,
For not hitting my house,
For striking the empty parish house
And sparing human lives,
And for allowing Your Son to be
The Lightning Rod
For our sins,
In order to conquer
Sin and death forever!...
In my spine,
And involuntarily prayed,
"God, please, not my house."
The king of the castle returned moments later,
Telling of firetrucks
On the lawn
Of the New Utrecht Reformed Church,
Putting out the smoking steeple
Of the parish house directly behind.
"Isn't that weird," he commented,
"Lightning striking a church!
Like...God striking... God!"
His words stir thoughts within me.
I think of the natural world
At war with us,
Aching to snatch us up
In one earthquake, volcano,
Tornado, flood, wildfire,
Or other natural disaster.
Then I think about the fact
That the lightning struck
The unoccupied parish house and,
Thankfully,
None of the occupied houses
Everywhere surrounding it.
Lastly, I think about
God striking God...
God made Man,
Taking the lightning strike
For all humanity
So that we might inherit
Eternal Life!
Father,
Thank you,
For not hitting my house,
For striking the empty parish house
And sparing human lives,
And for allowing Your Son to be
The Lightning Rod
For our sins,
In order to conquer
Sin and death forever!...
Saturday, June 11, 2011
New Life
Lord,
I am tired.
No.
I am weary.
I feel ground down,
Bowled over
By much existing,
But not enough living.
I become easily frustrated
And angry
At the smallest things.
I am like Bilbo Baggins:
"I feel thin, sort of stretched,
Like butter scraped
Over too much bread,"
And I'm wearing the signs.
Have I ever been like this?
Sometimes it feels like
I hate everyone and everything,
But I don't really.
Yet I can't contain my annoyance.
Sometimes I feel so parched
In my soul,
And when I think on why,
I realize in part
Why I thirst.
This past decade
Has seen much change
Typified by endings and death.
My sister and I -
We lost our parents.
We lost our home.
We lost jobs.
We lost prime health.
We lost friends along the way.
We experienced or are experiencing
Other losses -
The waning of a beloved pet,
The waning of my best friend's mom.
The only thing increasing
Is the number of gray hairs.¥
We left behind childhood
And even early adulthood
To stare at the world with stark gazes,
People who have experienced too much
In too little time.
We have come through it
In one piece (more or less)
But the earmarks of typical life
For young women our age
Are far from us.
Father...
I know that we have a life
Hidden in Christ,*
But You also promised us
Life abundant -
Here - now.**
I don't mean to whine,
But I don't understand
Why I am the way I am,
Or what you have in store for me.
When will this dying season end,
And the season for new life begin?
What else must perish
To make way for
Revitalization, restored health,
Soundness of spirit and mind?
Are these merely the birth pangs
Prior to metamorphosis,
Preceding the cracking of the chrysalis?
Kindle hope anew in me.
Restore me to my former
Gentleness and patience;
If they were phony and not heartfelt,
Bless me with them now and always,
That I may show the world
A measure of the tenderness
You have shown me,
To Your praise and glory.
Let me remember James' words,
To be patient until the
Coming of the Lord.***
Still my mind.
Still my soul.
I may groan, like David,
"Will You forget me forever?"****
But I also trust, like David,
In your steadfast love and salvation!****
* Colossians 3:3
** John 10:10
***James 5:7-11
****Psalm 13
¥ Scripture does offer some commentary concerning the increase of gray in our hair. See Proverbs 16:31.
I am tired.
No.
I am weary.
I feel ground down,
Bowled over
By much existing,
But not enough living.
I become easily frustrated
And angry
At the smallest things.
I am like Bilbo Baggins:
"I feel thin, sort of stretched,
Like butter scraped
Over too much bread,"
And I'm wearing the signs.
Have I ever been like this?
Sometimes it feels like
I hate everyone and everything,
But I don't really.
Yet I can't contain my annoyance.
Sometimes I feel so parched
In my soul,
And when I think on why,
I realize in part
Why I thirst.
This past decade
Has seen much change
Typified by endings and death.
My sister and I -
We lost our parents.
We lost our home.
We lost jobs.
We lost prime health.
We lost friends along the way.
We experienced or are experiencing
Other losses -
The waning of a beloved pet,
The waning of my best friend's mom.
The only thing increasing
Is the number of gray hairs.¥
We left behind childhood
And even early adulthood
To stare at the world with stark gazes,
People who have experienced too much
In too little time.
We have come through it
In one piece (more or less)
But the earmarks of typical life
For young women our age
Are far from us.
Father...
I know that we have a life
Hidden in Christ,*
But You also promised us
Life abundant -
Here - now.**
I don't mean to whine,
But I don't understand
Why I am the way I am,
Or what you have in store for me.
When will this dying season end,
And the season for new life begin?
What else must perish
To make way for
Revitalization, restored health,
Soundness of spirit and mind?
Are these merely the birth pangs
Prior to metamorphosis,
Preceding the cracking of the chrysalis?
Kindle hope anew in me.
Restore me to my former
Gentleness and patience;
If they were phony and not heartfelt,
Bless me with them now and always,
That I may show the world
A measure of the tenderness
You have shown me,
To Your praise and glory.
Let me remember James' words,
To be patient until the
Coming of the Lord.***
Still my mind.
Still my soul.
I may groan, like David,
"Will You forget me forever?"****
But I also trust, like David,
In your steadfast love and salvation!****
* Colossians 3:3
** John 10:10
***James 5:7-11
****Psalm 13
¥ Scripture does offer some commentary concerning the increase of gray in our hair. See Proverbs 16:31.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Incarnation
The trouble with humans
Is that we are sensory creatures.
Five conduits relay so much of the information
That we continually rely on.
While Moses was on Sinai
Receiving the Commandments,
Israel demanded a god they
Could see and touch and pay homage to
(They couldn't stand
The sensory deprivation!)
The golden calf incident
Didn't end well for them.
The problem remains unchanged.
How do we encounter a God
Who is ever-present
But inaccessible to our senses?
The trouble with humans
Is that we seek to encapsulate God
And we cannot truly do so
In any mode of thinking.
We want to box Him in, turn Him into
Something less than He is.
He's so mighty, so powerful, so supreme and overarching;
We can't wrap our brains around Him.
Rather than wrestling with the thoughts,
We disregard Him outright,
And don't seek to know Him better.
These two struggles
Have been resolved
In Jesus Christ.
I will never be able to fully contemplate
The Creator of the Universe,
But I can contemplate a man,
Even if that Man
Is the Son of the Living God.
I may say in my bitter thoughts
What does God know about our suffering?
But I can recall the sufferings of Jesus
And dwell on the Immortal
Donning mortality,
Choosing to be reviled, tortured, and murdered
So that I can claim a stake
In the inheritance of Eternity.
Yes, He rose,
But oh, how He staggered
Beneath the weight
Of humanity's sins.
I cannot fathom The Heavenly City,
Or the New Heavens and New Earth,
Where the Spirit of the Lord
Will freely dwell,
But I can envision a Man,
Smiling, laughing even,
Walking towards me
With outstretched arms,
Saying, "At last!
I've been waiting for you!
Welcome home!"
Jesus, Emmanuel,
My elder brother and co-heir
Of the promises of The Kingdom,
Let me see You
In all people and situations.
Be always embodied before me,
God Incarnate,
Who I can envision and cling to
All the days of my life!
Is that we are sensory creatures.
Five conduits relay so much of the information
That we continually rely on.
While Moses was on Sinai
Receiving the Commandments,
Israel demanded a god they
Could see and touch and pay homage to
(They couldn't stand
The sensory deprivation!)
The golden calf incident
Didn't end well for them.
The problem remains unchanged.
How do we encounter a God
Who is ever-present
But inaccessible to our senses?
The trouble with humans
Is that we seek to encapsulate God
And we cannot truly do so
In any mode of thinking.
We want to box Him in, turn Him into
Something less than He is.
He's so mighty, so powerful, so supreme and overarching;
We can't wrap our brains around Him.
Rather than wrestling with the thoughts,
We disregard Him outright,
And don't seek to know Him better.
These two struggles
Have been resolved
In Jesus Christ.
I will never be able to fully contemplate
The Creator of the Universe,
But I can contemplate a man,
Even if that Man
Is the Son of the Living God.
I may say in my bitter thoughts
What does God know about our suffering?
But I can recall the sufferings of Jesus
And dwell on the Immortal
Donning mortality,
Choosing to be reviled, tortured, and murdered
So that I can claim a stake
In the inheritance of Eternity.
Yes, He rose,
But oh, how He staggered
Beneath the weight
Of humanity's sins.
I cannot fathom The Heavenly City,
Or the New Heavens and New Earth,
Where the Spirit of the Lord
Will freely dwell,
But I can envision a Man,
Smiling, laughing even,
Walking towards me
With outstretched arms,
Saying, "At last!
I've been waiting for you!
Welcome home!"
Jesus, Emmanuel,
My elder brother and co-heir
Of the promises of The Kingdom,
Let me see You
In all people and situations.
Be always embodied before me,
God Incarnate,
Who I can envision and cling to
All the days of my life!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Enemy Territory
For the king, whose kitchen I can usually be found in.
Lord,
Forgive me.
When we were seated at dinner last night,
And saw the deadliness of the Joplin tornadoes,
The king of the castle proclaimed He could not believe in You.
It is a familiar complaint:
How could a good God
Allow something like this to happen?
I did not answer as I should have.
For this, I ask pardon.
I do not know how to explain to others
What I know so clearly:
That you are Almighty God;
That You created us to give us joy;
That You also gave us free will;
That we exercised that will contrary to You
And consequently, we screwed creation...
And ourselves.
The aftershocks of Eden
Ripple out,
And the devastation
Intensifies daily.
Lord, how do I explain to others
That what's happening are
The steps to final reconciliation
With You?
That the whole creation
Groans beneath the burden
Of the Apple Incident,
And that the entire universe
Is waiting to be redeemed
By You?
We are living in enemy territory -
A world that was handed to
The Adversary -
And as such, we are combatants
In the constant struggle of
Good versus Evil.
We are like soldiers
On the brink of annihilation,
Waiting for the good word
That at last we can go Home.
Specifically to the king I wish to say,
"Are you kidding me?
You could have been killed by glass -
TWICE! -
And you think there's no God?
He was with you those two times,
And countless others before and since.
Your mission isn't over yet.
Maybe He's keeping you alive
To do His work,
Or waiting for you to say,
'I believe in you'."
In every war,
There are casualties,
But unlike every other war,
The outcome of this has been predetermined.
Lord,
Help us hang on
To each other and ourselves...
Despite ourselves.
Help us wield Your Weapons
Defensively and offensively
Until we get word
That the struggle, at last, is over...
Lord,
Forgive me.
When we were seated at dinner last night,
And saw the deadliness of the Joplin tornadoes,
The king of the castle proclaimed He could not believe in You.
It is a familiar complaint:
How could a good God
Allow something like this to happen?
I did not answer as I should have.
For this, I ask pardon.
I do not know how to explain to others
What I know so clearly:
That you are Almighty God;
That You created us to give us joy;
That You also gave us free will;
That we exercised that will contrary to You
And consequently, we screwed creation...
And ourselves.
The aftershocks of Eden
Ripple out,
And the devastation
Intensifies daily.
Lord, how do I explain to others
That what's happening are
The steps to final reconciliation
With You?
That the whole creation
Groans beneath the burden
Of the Apple Incident,
And that the entire universe
Is waiting to be redeemed
By You?
We are living in enemy territory -
A world that was handed to
The Adversary -
And as such, we are combatants
In the constant struggle of
Good versus Evil.
We are like soldiers
On the brink of annihilation,
Waiting for the good word
That at last we can go Home.
Specifically to the king I wish to say,
"Are you kidding me?
You could have been killed by glass -
TWICE! -
And you think there's no God?
He was with you those two times,
And countless others before and since.
Your mission isn't over yet.
Maybe He's keeping you alive
To do His work,
Or waiting for you to say,
'I believe in you'."
In every war,
There are casualties,
But unlike every other war,
The outcome of this has been predetermined.
Lord,
Help us hang on
To each other and ourselves...
Despite ourselves.
Help us wield Your Weapons
Defensively and offensively
Until we get word
That the struggle, at last, is over...
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Four, As In, Three Plus One
It is a small sentence or two
Written about the Number Four
In Bullinger's Number in Scripture:
"...But it is as composed of three PLUS one that we see the most marked illustrations of the ideal significance of the number four, the 'one' marking an election out of the earth."
I pause,
Remembering the night
The four of us sat at
The dining room table,
While Dennis
[Number Five - Five Signifies Grace]
Boldly proclaimed Salvation to us.
He declared that someone's life
Was about to be changed -
Was about to be saved -
That the Holy Spirit was seeking someone -
And I knew with absolute certainty
That he was talking about me.
I knew that You were calling me,
Branding me,
Consecrating me
To Your Service.
I was only sixteen years old.
Father,
You have pursued me
For close to two decades.
I was thrilled when I first heard
Your siren song,
But I became scared and confused,
At odds with family and friends.
Then I whored after false gods
(Let's call it what it was),
But at the appointed time,
I came stumbling back to You.
I strayed far from You,
Only to return to You,
Weathered, wiser, and repentant,
Knowing that You protected me
From myself,
And the consequences
Of my sins.
Abba,
Thank You for Your mercies.
Guide me. Protect me.
I am but little more than dust,
Relying on Your Grace,
And the sacrifice of Your Son
To get me through
Each and every day.
Why You have called me out,
I do not know.
But I trust You.
Separate me.
Mark me Yours.
Let me do Your Work
Until the final call
Out of the earth.
And when the End becomes the Beginning,
Let our foursome be reunited,
To sit at the Ultimate Banquet Table
At the greatest Feast of all time!
Written about the Number Four
In Bullinger's Number in Scripture:
"...But it is as composed of three PLUS one that we see the most marked illustrations of the ideal significance of the number four, the 'one' marking an election out of the earth."
I pause,
Remembering the night
The four of us sat at
The dining room table,
While Dennis
[Number Five - Five Signifies Grace]
Boldly proclaimed Salvation to us.
He declared that someone's life
Was about to be changed -
Was about to be saved -
That the Holy Spirit was seeking someone -
And I knew with absolute certainty
That he was talking about me.
I knew that You were calling me,
Branding me,
Consecrating me
To Your Service.
I was only sixteen years old.
Father,
You have pursued me
For close to two decades.
I was thrilled when I first heard
Your siren song,
But I became scared and confused,
At odds with family and friends.
Then I whored after false gods
(Let's call it what it was),
But at the appointed time,
I came stumbling back to You.
I strayed far from You,
Only to return to You,
Weathered, wiser, and repentant,
Knowing that You protected me
From myself,
And the consequences
Of my sins.
Abba,
Thank You for Your mercies.
Guide me. Protect me.
I am but little more than dust,
Relying on Your Grace,
And the sacrifice of Your Son
To get me through
Each and every day.
Why You have called me out,
I do not know.
But I trust You.
Separate me.
Mark me Yours.
Let me do Your Work
Until the final call
Out of the earth.
And when the End becomes the Beginning,
Let our foursome be reunited,
To sit at the Ultimate Banquet Table
At the greatest Feast of all time!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Garden
There is a backyard
Behind my best friend's house
That is a small piece
Of Paradise
To me.
Rose bushes bloom
In a joyful shout
Of reds and pinks and whites.
The neighbor's mulberry tree
Provides shade in the early morning,
And partially covers the rose trellis
Of the blue and yellow macaw.
The wind blows;
Chimes ring,
Grass sways,
And bees hum lazily
Through the marigolds.
The songs of the wild birds
Mingle with the "whooo" of the African gray,
And the call of the gold-capped conure.
We grill and eat outside,
Alternating between the
Umbrella's shade
And the sun's glorious rays.
I could sit here for hours,
Thanking the Creator
For this miniature Eden,
This echo of Paradise
Before it was lost
That will one day
Be restored to us all...
Behind my best friend's house
That is a small piece
Of Paradise
To me.
Rose bushes bloom
In a joyful shout
Of reds and pinks and whites.
The neighbor's mulberry tree
Provides shade in the early morning,
And partially covers the rose trellis
Of the blue and yellow macaw.
The wind blows;
Chimes ring,
Grass sways,
And bees hum lazily
Through the marigolds.
The songs of the wild birds
Mingle with the "whooo" of the African gray,
And the call of the gold-capped conure.
We grill and eat outside,
Alternating between the
Umbrella's shade
And the sun's glorious rays.
I could sit here for hours,
Thanking the Creator
For this miniature Eden,
This echo of Paradise
Before it was lost
That will one day
Be restored to us all...
Conflagration
Lord,
I come to You
To ask You
To take from me
The burden of my emotions.
I am like
A woman on fire,
Writhing and squirming,
Wrestling the lifelong demon
Of over-sensitivity.
I am like a sponge,
Soaking up the moods of others.
Reacting and anticipating,
I struggle to make my true self known,
Even to myself.
I often get lost
Somewhere between others and myself.
Lord,
Be my North Star,
My shiftless omphalos.
Let me focus my thoughts on You,
Your Will and Your Word
At work in my life.
Through Your eyes,
Let me see and be
Aware of others.
Let me be a blessing to them,
But not consumed by them,
Or my awareness of them.
Only You can make me
Sensitive and resilient,
Caring and compassionate
Yet strong and centered within.
Let the demon of over-sensitivity
Be stilled, be eradicated,
So I can see and think and act clearly,
And not be overwhelmed
By the burden of emotion...
I come to You
To ask You
To take from me
The burden of my emotions.
I am like
A woman on fire,
Writhing and squirming,
Wrestling the lifelong demon
Of over-sensitivity.
I am like a sponge,
Soaking up the moods of others.
Reacting and anticipating,
I struggle to make my true self known,
Even to myself.
I often get lost
Somewhere between others and myself.
Lord,
Be my North Star,
My shiftless omphalos.
Let me focus my thoughts on You,
Your Will and Your Word
At work in my life.
Through Your eyes,
Let me see and be
Aware of others.
Let me be a blessing to them,
But not consumed by them,
Or my awareness of them.
Only You can make me
Sensitive and resilient,
Caring and compassionate
Yet strong and centered within.
Let the demon of over-sensitivity
Be stilled, be eradicated,
So I can see and think and act clearly,
And not be overwhelmed
By the burden of emotion...
Friday, June 3, 2011
Patience
I was abrupt with a co-worker
In my attempt to leave the building tonight.
I had an appointment with my family
And copped attitude with him
As he asked me to do something for him.
I try to justify myself
To myself.
I never leave on time.
I'm always asked to do something right before I leave.
I feel so burnt out from the job.
I have to meet my family.
My aunt hates when I'm late.
But now that I'm sitting on the train
Brooding (as usual)
I ask why I didn't just say something
Instead of
Huffing and puffing
And showing my obvious annoyance.
Lord,
I try so hard to be patient
But maybe that's the problem
I will it to be
Instead of being it?
Take my frustration from me
When it's about to lash another.
Let me remember how much
I frustrate others
And You (I am sure).
Give me patience in abundance...
I am sorely in need of it!
In my attempt to leave the building tonight.
I had an appointment with my family
And copped attitude with him
As he asked me to do something for him.
I try to justify myself
To myself.
I never leave on time.
I'm always asked to do something right before I leave.
I feel so burnt out from the job.
I have to meet my family.
My aunt hates when I'm late.
But now that I'm sitting on the train
Brooding (as usual)
I ask why I didn't just say something
Instead of
Huffing and puffing
And showing my obvious annoyance.
Lord,
I try so hard to be patient
But maybe that's the problem
I will it to be
Instead of being it?
Take my frustration from me
When it's about to lash another.
Let me remember how much
I frustrate others
And You (I am sure).
Give me patience in abundance...
I am sorely in need of it!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Tornado
Tornado warning in the Tri-state area
Until 8 PM tonight
I think about fear,
And about Wierwille's assertions:
The most powerful force in the world
Is the power of belief.
Fear is negative belief.
I wonder how much of our world
Is built on foundations of fear.
I wonder what would happen
If we unlocked joy within ourselves
And combated the fear with that.
In my mind's eye, I see
Our accumulated fears
Rising like a death-shroud
To cover the earth in
Every misery we can and do conceive.
How much do our fears contribute
To the tragic realities
We daily face?
Lord,
I pray for deliverance from the tornado
For my family, friends, pets,
And the entire Tri-state area.
If the tornado comes for me
Or anyone I love,
Let me remember Your Anointed
In the boat
Commanding sea and sky
To be still
Let me remember Your promises
Of Life Abundant
Extended to all who call you Father,
And rely on Your strength
To either stand and face it...
Or fall...
*Author's Note: This was written during yesterday's tornado warning. A tornado did not touch down in the Tri-state area. Please pray for those lives impacted by the tornado that touched down in Springfield, Mass, and everywhere else during this severe tornado season in the US.
Until 8 PM tonight
I think about fear,
And about Wierwille's assertions:
The most powerful force in the world
Is the power of belief.
Fear is negative belief.
I wonder how much of our world
Is built on foundations of fear.
I wonder what would happen
If we unlocked joy within ourselves
And combated the fear with that.
In my mind's eye, I see
Our accumulated fears
Rising like a death-shroud
To cover the earth in
Every misery we can and do conceive.
How much do our fears contribute
To the tragic realities
We daily face?
Lord,
I pray for deliverance from the tornado
For my family, friends, pets,
And the entire Tri-state area.
If the tornado comes for me
Or anyone I love,
Let me remember Your Anointed
In the boat
Commanding sea and sky
To be still
Let me remember Your promises
Of Life Abundant
Extended to all who call you Father,
And rely on Your strength
To either stand and face it...
Or fall...
*Author's Note: This was written during yesterday's tornado warning. A tornado did not touch down in the Tri-state area. Please pray for those lives impacted by the tornado that touched down in Springfield, Mass, and everywhere else during this severe tornado season in the US.
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