Here is what I know:
There was a judge, an infraction,
And a widow who would not let go
Or succumb to distraction.
Here is what I know:
Jacob took hold, wrestling,
And would not let go
”Until” he said, “You bless me.”
Here is what I know:
You’ve told us to pray,
And I refuse to let go
Until You have Your way
In this heart,
In this family,
In Your house,
In this city,
And beyond.
A morning lingering into day,
In waking, walking paralysis
Our finer natures overlaid
By an interlocking antithesis.
Waiting with breath abated
For any signal to divine
If affection is reinstated,
If value is reassigned.
Late afternoon I went to work
For You, to finish what I started
Not for favor, or fear of shirking,
But because the work is imparted
And I had the time to do it.
When I left, You began to speak
My fears are falsity-conduits:
I’m only in trouble if You are weak.
Then You reminded me
I’ve been gifted unspeakable devotion
A God who desires, who seeks,
Who set time in motion
To rescue me, to hold me close.
Your love rained on me all afternoon,
I saw You greater than the foe,
And somehow I’ve been hewn
In Your image,
Which is anything but hollow.
You alone set me to pilgrimage,
And equipped me thus to follow.
I began the day waiting to forget,
These frailties fading into embers,
But You reminded me You’re not done yet,
And what I need most is to remember.
Is this design or dysfunction?
I feel tired through my core,
And do we go it alone?
It comes with no compunction,
Knock-knocking at my door:
This beast that chewed my child-sized bones.
But the memories, stale
With scratching fingers,
Cannot change who You are
I fight exhaustion, often fail,
But You ever linger
Both near and far.
I don’t trust where I began,
And I can’t know where I may end,
But You are the Ancient of Days.
No one plucks me from Your hand
When You have called me friend,
And whispered Your higher ways,
To lead me through this maze.
Precious little moments
Strung together, one by one
Like popcorn chains on Christmas trees,
Like dress-up beads,
Or bubbles dancing in the sun.
They need little exposition
Just an inhale, a pause, a smile
There’s no simpler machine of insight
Than the filter of pure delight-
Joy is forthright
In all her wiles.
How quietly she rises-
No posterity screaming off the dark
She listens more than she speaks
I listen to her: I seek
Her beauty in the broken bleak
Waiting to embark
On popcorn strings
And the harmonies
Of love, and hope, and now.
He loves you.
Quietly I came these many miles,
In the dark and nameless,
Wringing out my smiles
In shameless complacency
To hear someone say to me,
“He loves you.”
He’s been saying it for years.
Too good to be true some days,
But that can’t undo His decision
Who am I to appraise
His vision of devotion
Or the ocean of His patience
I’ve been swimming in for years,
Treading through
For the glimpse, the whisper,
“He loves you.”
I’ve succumbed to this infirmity,
Like spiritual leprosy,
Slipping beneath the pallor,
Aching in my joints:
It only hurts where I bend.
And I’m numb again,
My nerve-endings fall mute
But I have called to You
And You are willing.
I hold my breath.
Still on my bed, like stone death
And my fears crush my feet,
Clinging like gasoline and smoke
Paralyzed under the weight
Tormented by what I can’t escape
And I can’t get up, get away,
I can’t crawl to You,
But You will come; You will speak.
Tossed in feverish apparitions,
Bound by my inhibitions
Fueled with burning skin
And thought and imagination,
What is true, objective reality,
And what is birthed inside me
In the flame and misery
Of these spiritual infirmities?
But I believe You’re able:
Touch these hands
Set this fever to flee
So I can stand, so I can see
So I can serve Yours as You’ve saved me.
This under-the-bushel life:
This hush-or-you’ll be seen,
Silent in the strife,
Lucid in the dream,
Choking-out-the-light life
When I should let it burn.
This habit I’ve worn,
These lies I’ve swallowed
Hiding what’s torn,
Filling what’s hollowed
By grief or scorn
With whatever can’t burn,
I keep the wick trimmed
Waiting for an invitation,
But when beckoned, I dim
In reckless hesitation
And sin
Because the light burns
But these dark nights
Call my name
And if light gives sight,
Bring on the flame
It’s time to ignite
My resistance and my purpose
To see what burns,
And what remains.
I silenced myself
I shut up my mouth, my pen,
Because of the sorrow in my soul
I feared the sin in my heart
I stopped proclaiming
You freed me to speak
The stagnant pool of death
The bitterness of my bones
Rotting my flesh from inside
But You have brought my fear to point
You have goaded me to fear You,
Healing my decaying flesh
With obedience in humility
Bringing refreshment to my bones
And I honor You
With this body of death
That You alone make alive
I lean on You to loose my tongue
To praises as You guide me
My King Eternal
You are no respecter of persons.
You do not gaze uncouth
At heaps of hoarded wealth,
Nor crave to devour tender youth.
In You there is no shadow of turning.
You do not rise to set
As we frantically orbit your constancy
Spinning our dizzy, dancing minuet
And some of us fall broken,
Restless though we’re lame,
But You raise up the conquered,
And lend the indigent your name.
You exalt the humbled,
And Your heart stands for the poor
So they will stand inside Your grace,
Singing Your song forevermore.
Truth, applied again, like balm to a sear
Burned by my sin, myself, my fear,
When this brilliant ray of hope appeared
All my failures somehow met:
My pale faith, my proclivity to forget,
Folded into my profound debt
And paid in full by His profound gift.
My sin won’t force me to be dismissed
Because His sacrifice will ever exist,
And He is faithful, and has made it just
To forgive and cleanse my muck and rust
To lay the ground for unbroken trust
By drinking all my death and hell,
The gnashing teeth I once indwelled,
To bestow His righteousness as well.
The gift, beyond my comprehension,
By His life and death, resurrection and ascension,
Has covered these sins, too loathe to mention,
With white-hot, smoldering purity
Draping me in white robes of amnesty
So He may look in love on me:
A filthy slave now clean and free,
Adopted into His family.
viewingcamelot 