5.3.13

Who can track the progress
Of this supernatural locomotion?
The organic migration of
A thousand mis-occupied spaces of the heart
Toward the enthralling All-Presence
Who seeks to enter them all.

Know that the cause of this movement
Is the exterior Spirit -
The Artist who comes inside
The work of his hands
To re-create what was vandalized.
Unending hope yielding hope;
Pure passion inspiring passion.
And all very good that came to nothing
He re-forms from nothing
By a word, by a name.

Place your hand on the transition current
And feel the heartbeat of new life
Mutually in the Most Alive.
Witness the rebirth
Of this one so unlike and like you...
Dance into the irresistible stream,
And do not act as though you were still the same.

Year 25

This has been an incredible year for me, full of adventure and life. Many new experiences too... snowboarding, bull riding, and a whole new set of mountains climbed, to name just a few. I got to serve at a camp I love. I got to live in and fully embrace a place of breathtaking beauty. After a year and a half of many obstacles, I've been able to join the Air Force. I have been overwhelmingly blessed with friendships that have encouraged me, inspired me, challenged me, and changed my life. I have enjoyed a season of living my days surrounded by others who have the same Spirit in them that is in me. It has been a beautiful year of so much struggle and so much hope. I know my Father's voice, and he has continually spoken to me with gentleness and kindness through so many days of selfishness and conviction, and so many nights of confusion and tears. He has a hold on my heart like never before. He has enabled me to feel so much... I realize I have only begun to know the fellowship of sharing in Jesus' sufferings and his joys, his death and his life, but I've experienced enough to know that I want more. I want to keep hearing his voice; I want him. I am facing my future in anticipation and hope, knowing that I am never alone - I have One to share every feeling with, all my moments, all my days, my whole journey long. Friends, hear me: There is no one else like my God, and he is worth everything.

Part III

I feel the captivity and the freedom

     Of my spirit in the presence of yours.
          I don't want to trap you.
          I don't want to hurt you.
               Little bird.
          Will you trust me?
          Can I deserve you?

     Don't be lonely, little bird.
     Don't be sad.
     But feel, still.

Feeling is inseparable
     From life and love,
          And shutting it out
               Is the cage.
But you were born to be free.

So fly from the shadows.
There is light in your wake.

Part II

There is late afternoon sunshine
On the harmonies of your song.
Notes golden; Rhythms rippling.
You're so beautiful,
And Nature is proud to present you.

Representing well both Creator and Creation
With forever and my breathlessness
     In your eyes.
Do not fear your potential.

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