Sifting through misconceptions.
Thought patterns subconsciously sew into a patchwork quilt.
The hourglass is flipped. The jackles are visiting today.
Just as ugly as the days before.
The scrap inside me and scratch old wounds raw.
Healer, I’m hurting.
My future lost its luster in the sequined dazzle of the marionette.
How foolish.
Forgive me;
take it if you wish.
I’m blundering in a fog,
Where did everyone go?
I call out.
Few answer.
But You beckon me just the same,
Even louder.
“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Daily I give You everything.
In swirly glooeyglompenness,
You are my foothold.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
heart for the nations
"Because of thirst the infant's tongue sticks to the roof of its mouth; the children beg for bread, but no one gives it to them." Oh Lord, save Your children, for they are destitute, without father or mother, stripped of blessing and hope. Their future whispers only of death and pain from this they find no rest. Save Your people. Jehova Jireh, be quick to hear their plea. Prepare the hearts of Your Beloved to serve those in need. Quicken the spirits of us, Your disciples. May we be trained by the heart of God to feed the nations, to clothe the naked, to nurse the sick, to bind up the wounded, to father the fatherless, to care for the widow, and to give life to those lost in the prisons of darkness giving them hope by the power of Your Son. Prepare us. Strip me of selfishness, of the need of abundant food and air-conditioning. Comfort blinds our hearts. "Arise, cry out in the night...pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to him for the lives of your children, who faint from hunger at the head of every street." Lord, Your heat is for Your lost sheep. May our hearts follow Yours in purity. We desire the day of Your return. Our hearts long to speed Your coming. Let us go to the nations by trust and faith and by Your perfect will. Send us out filled with Your Holy Spirit trusting You for our daily bread. Lord we've committed our lives to follow You. Use us, we're in love with You. Where You go, let us follow; we long to follow. Send us to the nations.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Elise; Christ at the dinner table
“Hey, Elise?—Nevermind…”
“What?”
“Well, I was just going to see if you could fill up my glass of water, but I don’t want to bother you. I can do it myself…”
“No! It’s okay! If you need it filled up again, I can do it.”
Knocked between the eyes by overwhelming humility,
a blow to my big head.
I was looking at Christ.
This six-year-old.
Still scented with the fragrance of being sealed with the Holy Spirit,
my new sister in Christ.
She was heaping burning coals on my selfishness.
I’m taken back, stumbling.
How I’ve despised her.
She’s everything I’m not, and have struggled to be.
confidant,
athletic,
bold,
level-headed,
socially natural,
easy-going,
and not afraid to speak her mind.
She’s the one who’s space is tidy, who offers to help Mom fold clothes, iron, wash dishes, and clean.
She’s the one always ready to help, as I slip away for some alone time to write and think.
and now this raw display of selflessness;
tonight I was faced with Christ at the dinner table.
Christ in my dear sister, Elise.
“…whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not some to be served, but to serve…”*
Lord, I ask that you grant me humility, a humble heart. Teach me how to serve. Give me the humility to learn from my younger sister , my dear, dear sister whom I cherish with all my heart, Elise, your precious selfless servant.
*Matthew 20:26-28
“What?”
“Well, I was just going to see if you could fill up my glass of water, but I don’t want to bother you. I can do it myself…”
“No! It’s okay! If you need it filled up again, I can do it.”
Knocked between the eyes by overwhelming humility,
a blow to my big head.
I was looking at Christ.
This six-year-old.
Still scented with the fragrance of being sealed with the Holy Spirit,
my new sister in Christ.
She was heaping burning coals on my selfishness.
I’m taken back, stumbling.
How I’ve despised her.
She’s everything I’m not, and have struggled to be.
confidant,
athletic,
bold,
level-headed,
socially natural,
easy-going,
and not afraid to speak her mind.
She’s the one who’s space is tidy, who offers to help Mom fold clothes, iron, wash dishes, and clean.
She’s the one always ready to help, as I slip away for some alone time to write and think.
and now this raw display of selflessness;
tonight I was faced with Christ at the dinner table.
Christ in my dear sister, Elise.
“…whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not some to be served, but to serve…”*
Lord, I ask that you grant me humility, a humble heart. Teach me how to serve. Give me the humility to learn from my younger sister , my dear, dear sister whom I cherish with all my heart, Elise, your precious selfless servant.
*Matthew 20:26-28
Friday, June 12, 2009
An apple a day does nothing; i just need a heart-checkup
His clock reigns supreme.
I cast down epitaph on the gravestone where I died to sin: “to all her previous ambitions, cares, and strivings; they count as loss.”
For the sake of the Lamb, to fear His Name is to pronounce death to personal passions.
They rot under the
penetrating,
squelching
unique,
and
desirable
radiance
of His love.
Making my love work is like voluntarily planting a tumor in my heart.
It grows, eating up the tender, beating flesh of my reddish vital organ, until growing so big, it overshadows my One True Love.
It must be surgically removed which causes pain and moderate scarring.
“Regular check-ups with your Creator should be administered regularly to ensure that your heart is humbled and healthy.”
You never find that savory morsel of advice
in the health tips
on cereal boxes.
Like the Israelites, I choose to test and experiment according to my desires.
Karin, it would’ve been much easier to surrender in the first place.
Fall in love with the Lord.
It’s best.
He can (or not) chose to grant me the desires of my heart in his timing—no side-effects or scarring required.
I cast down epitaph on the gravestone where I died to sin: “to all her previous ambitions, cares, and strivings; they count as loss.”
For the sake of the Lamb, to fear His Name is to pronounce death to personal passions.
They rot under the
penetrating,
squelching
unique,
and
desirable
radiance
of His love.
Making my love work is like voluntarily planting a tumor in my heart.
It grows, eating up the tender, beating flesh of my reddish vital organ, until growing so big, it overshadows my One True Love.
It must be surgically removed which causes pain and moderate scarring.
“Regular check-ups with your Creator should be administered regularly to ensure that your heart is humbled and healthy.”
You never find that savory morsel of advice
in the health tips
on cereal boxes.
Like the Israelites, I choose to test and experiment according to my desires.
Karin, it would’ve been much easier to surrender in the first place.
Fall in love with the Lord.
It’s best.
He can (or not) chose to grant me the desires of my heart in his timing—no side-effects or scarring required.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
the Lord's diversity
A coffee shop on the corner of a street I don’t know.
Inside, wisps of wonderful greet my nose.
Dim lights cast an aura of welcome to my eyes.
Musical young men set up their amps, all the while light-hearted joking is tossed from mouth to mouth.
The first musician takes his place.
He finishes.
The second replaces him.
I’ve never seen a leaner human being.
Is it possible that all the vital organs are tucked away in his small frame?
He’s alive; I suppose they are.
From his wiry build comes a sweet voice.
He weaves a folk-ish ballad all his own; death has the pedestal in his music.
My heart breaks and is lulled by the mournful song.
“Lord, this is your creation, gifted so generously, yet lost with the sorrow of fallen-ness.”
There’s an element of intrigue intertwined in the presence of these young men.
I sense a bond between them, almost like a tight brotherhood, a shelter from rejection, a cove to thrive in the uniqueness of different masculinity.
Their music takes them to a place much different from the war cries of men in battle or the intensity of a fight.
Yet, they are not less; they simply relate to others based on their unique view of themselves and bond to music.
I was refreshed to be around so many different personalities, all made in the image of God, all exactly unique.
A taste of the Lord’s diversity.
Inside, wisps of wonderful greet my nose.
Dim lights cast an aura of welcome to my eyes.
Musical young men set up their amps, all the while light-hearted joking is tossed from mouth to mouth.
The first musician takes his place.
He finishes.
The second replaces him.
I’ve never seen a leaner human being.
Is it possible that all the vital organs are tucked away in his small frame?
He’s alive; I suppose they are.
From his wiry build comes a sweet voice.
He weaves a folk-ish ballad all his own; death has the pedestal in his music.
My heart breaks and is lulled by the mournful song.
“Lord, this is your creation, gifted so generously, yet lost with the sorrow of fallen-ness.”
There’s an element of intrigue intertwined in the presence of these young men.
I sense a bond between them, almost like a tight brotherhood, a shelter from rejection, a cove to thrive in the uniqueness of different masculinity.
Their music takes them to a place much different from the war cries of men in battle or the intensity of a fight.
Yet, they are not less; they simply relate to others based on their unique view of themselves and bond to music.
I was refreshed to be around so many different personalities, all made in the image of God, all exactly unique.
A taste of the Lord’s diversity.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Cattletorph and the Demise of the Meddletorphs
Cattletorph looked upon the land one dee.
Deedle dom de treedle deedle knee
The rain be comin' just a fur as he could see.
Doddle dee tree deedle domdle key
He spake to the Roodles who were melting with the sound.
Heedle fom fe reedle feedle lee
"We better start a'marchin' for the sun has drown."
Homdle feem fo reedle feetle me
But the poor little maidens of Meddletorph town
Codle lom tee hodle troddle ze
Couldn't march too well (for their eedlenorphs were down)
they were floomfed by a lout from the sea
.
Monday, March 16, 2009
yes, Jesus loves me. No longer a cliche
“You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride;
You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes…”
A month ago, these were the words I longed to hear. I desired for the Lord to use such language to capture my heart; but God doesn’t talk like that; his voice is something like, “I love you”, but not sappy language like the words in Song of Solomon. Yes, I know he loves me; yes, I know he desires to have my heart, but falling romantically in love with the God of the universe? Come on. While an appealing concept, I couldn’t picture myself falling hopelessly in love with a God who is called The Ancient of Days, Father, King of Kings, etc. He sounds old. Falling in love with a God whom I call father? Noo, thank you. Yet, as I prayed that I would fall in love with God, the idea became a challenge. Was this falling in love with God business a true feeling, or just an expressive metaphor that we Christians use to get the point across? I decided to test it out. “Lord, you said ask and you will receive. Lord, take me into the desert and speak tenderly to me. (Hosea 2:14) I want you to captivate my heart. I want to fall in love with you.” I prayed this prayer over, and over, and over again. Each time thinking, “Great, okay I love God, but I’m not sensing the romance. Is this all by faith, or is there feeling involved?” Psalms 130:5, “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits…” I prayed this—and I waited…and waited…and….I waited. Last night, I arrived late to the last of Mr. Rick’s sessions on the Bridal Paradigm, or his six week course on understanding the love of God. Frankly, I was dealing with some flesh issues and didn’t really want to be there. My soul groaned as he laid out the plan for the night—he would wrap up the course, and then we would worship. I did not want to worship, but I listened as he wove the reality of the love of Christ beautifully through his words, prayer, and scripture. I listened intently, then he opened up a time of worship. I surrendered and tried my best to focus on God. As I became more and more lost in praising him, forgetting my flesh, the Lord spoke. He was a handsome, young prince dressed in a white tux, and I was wearing a beautiful ball gown. He came over to me and took my hand while leading me onto the marble dance floor. We began to dance. He was charming, and romantic, and funny. He joked with me as he led me effortlessly across the floor. He was perfect. I was in love…whoa, wait! What? Yes, I said it. In love. Breakthrough. At this moment, the Lord came to me not as my father, or The Ancient of Days, but just as I needed him right then, my Prince of Peace. I enjoyed his company. I desired his presence. He was romancing my heart. He is romancing my heart.
You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes…”
A month ago, these were the words I longed to hear. I desired for the Lord to use such language to capture my heart; but God doesn’t talk like that; his voice is something like, “I love you”, but not sappy language like the words in Song of Solomon. Yes, I know he loves me; yes, I know he desires to have my heart, but falling romantically in love with the God of the universe? Come on. While an appealing concept, I couldn’t picture myself falling hopelessly in love with a God who is called The Ancient of Days, Father, King of Kings, etc. He sounds old. Falling in love with a God whom I call father? Noo, thank you. Yet, as I prayed that I would fall in love with God, the idea became a challenge. Was this falling in love with God business a true feeling, or just an expressive metaphor that we Christians use to get the point across? I decided to test it out. “Lord, you said ask and you will receive. Lord, take me into the desert and speak tenderly to me. (Hosea 2:14) I want you to captivate my heart. I want to fall in love with you.” I prayed this prayer over, and over, and over again. Each time thinking, “Great, okay I love God, but I’m not sensing the romance. Is this all by faith, or is there feeling involved?” Psalms 130:5, “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits…” I prayed this—and I waited…and waited…and….I waited. Last night, I arrived late to the last of Mr. Rick’s sessions on the Bridal Paradigm, or his six week course on understanding the love of God. Frankly, I was dealing with some flesh issues and didn’t really want to be there. My soul groaned as he laid out the plan for the night—he would wrap up the course, and then we would worship. I did not want to worship, but I listened as he wove the reality of the love of Christ beautifully through his words, prayer, and scripture. I listened intently, then he opened up a time of worship. I surrendered and tried my best to focus on God. As I became more and more lost in praising him, forgetting my flesh, the Lord spoke. He was a handsome, young prince dressed in a white tux, and I was wearing a beautiful ball gown. He came over to me and took my hand while leading me onto the marble dance floor. We began to dance. He was charming, and romantic, and funny. He joked with me as he led me effortlessly across the floor. He was perfect. I was in love…whoa, wait! What? Yes, I said it. In love. Breakthrough. At this moment, the Lord came to me not as my father, or The Ancient of Days, but just as I needed him right then, my Prince of Peace. I enjoyed his company. I desired his presence. He was romancing my heart. He is romancing my heart.
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