Tag Archives: Jesus

Dearest Companion

I’m thinking of our timeline-
A million collisions of grace
Affection and loyalty
You showed in the face
Of my unworthiness,

Because my unworthiness
Is curable in Your pierced hands.

My heart brims with gratitude
My Father, my Brother, my Friend
My ever-constant Redeemer
My Betrothed in the end
And Your love letters abound

Every breath You’ve supplied
Is a gift of life
And I am found in this:

Thank you.


Father God

Tiny baby legs
Shuffle by in stampede
Chubby baby cheeks
Giggle with glee
And I laugh out loud
As praise to You,
Who in tender mystery
Formed all things new.

I’m in awe of all You do.


It is Now

He pulled close to us
In creation, forming by delicate hand,
So close His breath filled our lungs.
Mankind learned to stand
Inside His tender proximity.

He pulled close to us
In manger hay and baby skin,
Walking in unbreakable love
Not counting our sin
But for the payment He would make.

He pulls close to us,
The day is nearly here!
As a ship approaches the harbor,
With His Father at the steer,
He stands giddy in the prow.

He is so close,
Radiating joy through all alarms
If I lived ninety years
It would only be falling forward into His arms.


Revelation

“Not that I have already obtained it
or have already become perfect,
but I press on
so that I may lay hold of that
for which also I was laid hold of
by Christ Jesus.
Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet;
but one thing I do:
forgetting what lies behind
and reaching forward to what lies ahead,
I press on toward the goal
for the prize of the upward call of God
in Christ Jesus.
Let us therefore, as many as are perfect, have this attitude;
and if in anything you have a different attitude,
God will reveal that also to you;”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭3:12-15‬ ‭NASB‬‬

Your forgiveness flows
In fathomless depths
And I sink below
Brought to breath
By the oxygen of grace;
Washed clean
Where bitterness defaced:
The place unseen.

A sudden turning;
A fresh beginning.
Once burning,
Bleeding, sinning-
Chewing questions
Like shattered glass,
Like broken bastions
Of empires past.

Ocular scales shed to ground,
Questions falling each alone,
Like wilted leaves, soundless
Before Your Holy throne
I tremble and forgive, subdued.
I confess and boldly stand-
Because if faith pleases You,
Let it guide my hand.

My reluctance dissolves
In view of Your glory,
You choose to involve
Blind-me in Your story,
And that will ever be enough
Nay, more than plenty-
I let go; I give up-
I beg You to send me

To love, to serve, to proclaim, to suffer,
For the glory of Your name.

“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance
and the sin which so easily entangles us,
and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith,
who for the joy set before Him endured the cross,
despising the shame,
and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭12:1-2‬ ‭NASB‬‬

http://bible.com/100/heb.12.1-2.nasb


Least of These

I close my eyes
She appears again, in the haze
Of spent years and separate ways
And tears bent to earth.
Her moment torn open,
But she no longer remains
In the flowing wounds, the stains-
Her broken fragments of being.

I close my eyes,
And they’re ever kneeling
In like condition: healing,
A foreign concept- a mythical beast.
Love, a foreign language,
A muscle rarely-used,
A notion much-abused
And deeply mistrusted.

I close my eyes,
And open my heart in prayer.
You brought me here from there,
And I was too blind to remember the route,
But I remember You,
And the day I learned love was tangible,
Solid, substantial,
And I could receive it,

And I could give.


God of My Life

You wait like the moon,
Reflecting what we can bear to see,
Patient, but soon
Sunlight will break over all these things
As You have said in calm and thunder,
So You will do,
And I watch in quiet wonder
The breathless spin of the moon.

You burn like the sun,
In splendor and unapproachable glory
Distant and near, our constant One.
Distant not to burn, near enough for me
To see and be warmed.
Revolving around You, but unable
To look into Your heart unharmed,
But in Your light, my world looks stable.

Every piece of heaven and earth
Unworthy of Your holy habitation,
Deepest oceans aren’t vast enough to birth
An accommodating station
But You came in the waters of a woman,
Wrapped snug in the flesh of men,
The Unreachable as touchable human,
The Impeccable amongst our sin,

Our flaws, our frailties, our treason,
Weaving a brand new thing
The true God lifting our reason
To the heights of wonder to sing
To the God of the moon and sun,
And all mankind,
So we may see, yearn, run,
And seek, and find

The God of the distant constellation,
And near as our own flesh,
Who weaves our dear salvation
From the torn shreds of His own death
And enters our rebellion,
Our gnashing teeth and blindness,
To drink our cup of hell and
Rescue us in lovingkindness.

Wrap Your shawl of wonder
Around my feeble soul,
Oh God of heat and thunder
Whom every age extols,
Lift my humble view,
And direct my blinded roam,
To look alone to You
Until You bring me home.

Psalms 42:7-8

Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls;
All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.
The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime;
And His song will be with me in the night,
A prayer to the God of my life.


Doubting Me

Ruminating
On the substance of man
The intangibles of hope, and faith,
That fuel and fan
Our brief, burning existence.

Striving and dying
In the same breaths
That framed the common lives,
Ambitions, and inevitable deaths
Of heroes and villains.

And without scales
To weigh this substance,
To ascertain its purpose, or value,
It’s just wandering circumstance
And wishful thinking.

Religion,
Man’s answer to man’s dilemma,
Is more striving at dying,
Temporary solutions or agendas,
Without a Creator.

And I’m thinking of witnesses,
And historical accounts,
The dependency of science,
And it all amounts
To the idea of God.

How easily I doubt,
And how often I look
To the Author of life,
Of time, of the Great Book
That weighs these intangibles,

And makes sense of circumstance.