The Fog

Sometimes fog in my mind is chaos,
     Sometimes it is a silent blanket,
          Always it is confusion.

               All is unclear, The dim, The gray.
                    So many voices.
                         But only Yours the anecdote.

4.12.13

French press and paint
Ideas and wrought-iron chairs
                         Rest, though.

Words and Mozart
Exit-ramps and responsibilities
                         Rest, though.

Children and tall grass
Drumsticks and wind
                         Rest, though.

Slow me down and
          Lead my mind
                    To the Sabbath-season.

18.2 (Part I)

Hear my voice - my unspoken voice.

Where were you when I was

    Waiting all that time?

Your thoughts veiled; my trust tried.

And where were your eyes, that

    You couldn't see me?

Your body ever near, but never close.

You rare bird, you fire,

    You miraculous mess.

Shining eternal mystery, Igniting

    My sorrow and my re-creation...

        My metamorphosis.

You do not know your own power.

I grieved, and still do,

    The ways I have offended or lost you.

Gift, you dance through your days

    So very alive.

You with compassion like

    Sunlight sparkling on the waters;

Your heart like an ocean deep, or

    Like a river moving.

And you have moved me.

7.2012

Battle.
Paradoxically cosmic inside human.
Rage-fear mix that spurs the run from
Disappointment in the unbalanced
That I know should not be.
This spinning, reckless mindful of ideas
That no one mind can hold –
Try to flee and become engulfed
In the un-peace and un-quiet of
Too much.
Battle unbearable.
Fear pronounces self-inflicted soul-pain,
And legs and shoulders break under the
Pressure of unworthy.
Fall to the ground.
But heart-weight pulls and drags
Into depths of un-living,
As if dark and gravity
Were victorious captors
Of breath and hope.
Save me!
Disintegration of Hope
Reversed.
The reassembly of dry bones
Has secretly begun.
I see
The inseparable truth of
Resurrection and Hope.
Breath of life to the
Trembling verbal incarnation.
Body of Christ, Word incarnate
Speaks the river of life
Through veins shriveled and dry.
Reassemble this creature
Once created for Hope,
And sing its poetry once again.
The moment of the resurrection dawn
Is now.
Rise and sing your purposed part
In this choral river
Which through you flows.
To those who have tasted death,
Life is sweeter.
And the grave
Is but the door to resurrection.

Thoughts on Sharing our Stories, and the Sanctification of the Church

When we tell our stories, we risk. But we risk because we hope. We have hope that we will be understood. We have hope that the other will love us despite our failures and our admission of inadequacy, despite what we've done, where we've been, or in what ways we've been something other than who God created us to be. And it is this hope that makes the telling of our stories critical to the formation and continued vitality of community. I firmly believe that our struggles, abilities, successes, and experiences are not solely for our sanctification as individuals, but also for the sanctification - and even the functionality - of the Body of Christ. God allows us struggles in part for our own sanctification and participation in the sufferings and death of Christ, whom we are in and is in us. But God also allows us struggles so that we may encourage and challenge others into their own sanctification and participation in Christ's sufferings and death, and so in this we build up the Body. For since we participate in the sufferings and death of Christ, we also participate in His resurrection, not only as individuals, but also as the Body - His Body, His Bride - the Church.

"Love Deeply"

"Do not hesitate to love and to love deeply. You might be afraid of the pain that deep love can cause. When those you love deeply reject you, leave you, or die, your heart will be broken. But that should not hold you back from loving deeply. The pain that comes from deep love makes your love ever more fruitful. It is like a plow that breaks the ground to allow the seed to take root and grow into a strong plant. Every time you experience the pain of rejection, absence, or death, you are faced with a choice. You can become bitter and decide not to love again, or you can stand straight in your pain and let the soil on which you stand become richer and more able to give life to new seeds." -Henri Nouwen, The Inner Voice of Love

Incarnational Spring

Spring is bursting at its seams
To erupt through the ground and sky of
Aging winter.
It seems so light at first thought,
But the springtime wells up from the great depths
Like the spring of my soul,
When light pierces it and
Warmth surges through its tunnels.
It is imminent;
It will not, cannot be contained,
For it is a Living Thing,
A Word that makes the earth tremble.

New Life cannot be bound forever;
It travels in the rays of the Sun
And rides on the wings of the birds.
The breeze carries its message,
And with the rains it soaks blessing into the earth.

It is the fresh scent of clean laundry hanging out to dry.
It is the magical opening of flowers and windows.
It is the joy of children at the playground.
It is the spring cleaning.
It is the cookouts.
It is excitement in the air.
It is the returning spirit of adventure.
It is the resurrection mirror.

A Life Fully Devoted to God

I've been thinking a lot lately about where my heart is. What am I passionate about? What am I committed to? Am I all God's or not? God is such a gentleman that he will never force us to serve or follow him. He asks us to, and he pursues our hearts with passion and longing, but he never forces himself on us. Do I really believe that God loves me deeply; that his love is far deeper than all I've ever imagined or hoped it to be? Do I really believe that the Enemy is a liar, and that to believe his lies is to be a slave? Do I really believe that to be a follower of God is to be more free than I can comprehend? Do I want to be free? Where is my heart? Who am I devoted to? My Self or God? He has part of my heart, but that is not enough. He is the Divine Lover of my soul, and he wants it all. To be fully alive and fully free, I must fully devote myself to him!

If we could hear the music of a life fully devoted to God, what would it sound like? I think it would be a song so beautiful that it would make us want to cry and dance and join in the song all at once. I think it would be the most beautiful thing we had ever heard. And I think God does hear it. But you know, I think we'll get to hear it someday. I think God keeps us from hearing it until we are with him in our future glorified state, because it is in such perfect harmony with his own song, and so very beautiful and close to him, that the aching and awe inside us for him would be unbearable for us right now. But someday... someday we will hear it, and more than that... I think we will hear God's song.

And I imagine that it's not only music. I think that a life fully devoted to God has incredible colors, and light, and fragrance. There is so much of God in a life fully devoted to him, because it is in such unity with him. It is an unending spring of life and power through the Holy Spirit. It has freely been given to God, and therefore he will not limit himself in perfecting it and working through it in full power.
There is no limit to what God can and will do through such a life as this. Is that not awesomely beautiful?

Your Emotion

There is a warm knowing
That wherever I go
There will be emotion
Because you are there.

Love melts the ice when my heart grows cold
When I have left all feeling far behind
You release your own emotions from deep within my soul
And these cannot be stifled - they always overflow
In weeping, or singing, or peace and strength, or joy.

There is a warm knowing
That wherever I go
There will be emotion
Because you are there.

Doorway to the Doorway

Endless swirling green
In my focused, limited vision
Through glass, a clear glass
Variations and subtleties
Without termination
And I can feel it all around me
Somehow without losing the
Bearing of ascent.

Winds that for a moment
Rushed around inside my body
Have silenced to whispers of Anticipation.
Worries vanished; the rescue is peace
Before I even realize that
It isn't somehow
My own escape,
And this is only
The doorway to
The Doorway to
The Beyond All:
The Origin of The Rescue...