Just let me know You more

I had a dappled cat cross my path--black and white, not just black. I had the thought, "Such is life--some good, some bad," I would've interpreted the sign, if I was superstitious. but I'm not. Thus, I kept on my way, wind to my face, strain on my legs, faster, faster down unkempt roads on my beloved bike. It does me good to forget time, forget it's continual plodding. I know there's a reason; it's just a season of awfully slow.

But I'm in love. My heart bursts with the watercolor sunrise and the chill, and at night I'm lost in the wonder of the skies. I'm in love with the Maker of the Universe. I consider myself blessed. My joy is made complete. He is my fulfillment, my sustenance in this wasteland. How I long for Him.

Perhaps we're all a bit rushed. Take a step. Marvel in the profoundness of forward motion--what a gift: to be free to walk forward, free from the quicksand and clawing boney hands of sin. Take another step; think on Him. Thankfulness stirs at the pat of your feet.

If you find love, will it not ruin every moment you remember without it? Is it not to be sought after? Does not your whole being cry out in anguish at the pursuit? Does not your heart long each time for more and more?

There is a love that grows more satisfying with every sip. Each drop leaves you thirsty for more, and it knows no bounds.

Teach me how to walk in Your presence--and never leave.

soured

How dearly I covet a cultivated love
My moments I give You are not my all
How I've forgotten the sound of Your voice
It seems part of a million
I'm a glass of milk sitting on the counter too long
I sour my own stomach with the warmth
I'm churning and beating the sides of this mug
How I want to be spilled and start empty again
Truly I want to know how to speak to You
Constantly
Know that I'm weary of monotony
I'm churned and I will walk in freedom
I will not let the contents settle
Discontent, and it's high time

Jesus

It's like i've never known you before
until today
and i'm so tired of this horrible feeling
that you're not pleased with me
that i'm being disobedient
tired of telling you only what's in my mind
and not what's deep in my heart
now, i tell you straight
like i've told only a few i trust most closely
but without shame of fearing reproach
and you're my best friend
i hold your hand
and my tears blur the road as i drive
and i know and have known that you have known all along
those feelings and thoughts i don't even tell in writing
but i trust you, now
and i can't believe you're sitting here beside me
and i think i've never known love before now
something that can't be put in words
but close to 'reassurance'
i still feel dirty, but you're still beside me
and the wonder that you want me
that's love
and it's not exactly comfortable
cause you're peering through the depths of my soul
but overwhelming
like being crushed by some wonderful terrible thing
and i'm just so thankful to know you
thank you--
with all that i am--
for wanting to know me too

progressing regression

disorder of my past
hewn into my present
i spoke it's name,
all eyes on me
they assume i'm healed
i'm not

i pledged my life to a fathered vision
one i thought my own, but now i question
has it been my pride to volunteer succession
so the road ahead is clear?

i hold thick questions
and they smother my words
as they sit like sponges on my tongue

i thought I knew myself better,
just a year ago
thought i knew my future,
now i'm not so sure
and a heart that's stronger also feels much harder
like new leather, i'm trying to break it in

growing younger
it's clarity i seek
i'm under cloud cover
and it's mist that my fists beat
as i stagger towards a vision
that's tunneled to one end

Oh blessed seed of Zion
replace my will with Yours

if i am weak in my sickness
and You desire weakness
then i'll gladly be sick until You come

Here, my King
I've burned my dreams
and this remains

this is the gold

I need no other
I need no other
though i'm ill
though i'm ill
I need no other
though I know not my future
and doubt my vision
I follow You alone

the seventy-seventh time

I can't bear to see Your face

I traipsed around the tempting pit
wondering of the fun I'd missed
and fell face first into the hole
from leaning in too far--and this, for the seventy-seventh time

Only a memory, now
white is death of black to me--white's a shade I can't recall
I know the depth of my damnation and the wretched nights I spend
wondering why I took one step too far
in the wrong direction

I am dirt to the prodigals
an exploiter of mercy and swindler of grace
my soul is char
my heart is bare
and sin's burned through my skin

I'm sure that this will be the end
Pride has a death-grip 'round my throat
and I can't even cry for help
though my being screams within
I'm in too deep
I'm in too deep--for the seventy-seventh time

then a whisper like a memory
like a memory, but ageless
and through the blackening of my sight
I see a sword slash through my pride
and strength gives out, at last

Awakened as if from a dream
to a warmth of pulsing grace
"I'll never let you from my gaze or cease to make you clean."

And now my dress is white again
whiter than it's ever been
You've bleached me
with Your love

for the seventy-seventh time.

this again

pursuer crouched
in the shadow of my seat--
the floor-board of my locked car
the presence mirroring my every step
inches behind
yet dissolving before discovered
the anticipation of hands that grab me
before a door is closed and keyed
dreams that freeze me to my bed
at 4 AM
and chill me through the day
was I freed only to be conquered?
or does this allegiance lie in shadowy corners
if obedience is love and love casts out fear
then temptation and flesh have shackled my zeal
this dilapidated heart
and two sides that know it's darkness
give me grace
there's no more will to fight
see my love--weak though it may be--
and let me stand
in this sifting

six

A jog before some egg-yolk sun is

cracked across the sky

breathing even with the drumming of my Asics

velvet morning drape still hanging thick on our globe

the moisture grips to my face and lungs

it will rain

it must

my chest swollen with this joy

I puff out metered whispers

and You answer with stillness in my heart

temptations cannot touch the hour of six-'o-clock

this is our time of simplicity

and You make my way sure

every step