Surrender Poem

Tears fall

my chest with a knife lodged

my abdomen tied like rope

my shoulder scalpel-ed by every inhale

my feet with naked bone touching ground

all remind me it was born to die,

this natural map, from toe to pony-tailed tendril.

I laugh white teeth with gap in between

because I’m closer to Heaven than ever before.

No spiritual song, no kiss in moonlight,

no day on the lake nor mountaintop moment

offers this free fall forward so explicitly.

In front of my face, inches away,

is a God who says,

“I’ve put your soul into a broken jar.”

All I can do is flatten my feeble frame

against the floor and say, “Thank you.”

This is where I get my faith:

debate between Emergency room or living room.

He waves white flag for me,

ushering me into the abundant existence.

This broken jar is brimming,

to breathe is to be blessed.

And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.~Romans 8:23

I’m laying down my sickness and pain for the glory of the Lord~Darrell Evans

Advertisements

Poem, II

Much of my time is joy, is light
I won’t deny: there too is despair, there is night.
Though rare, there are times
When-a vine-angst climbs.

I am worried about going,
I am worried about throwing
All I have down a funnel,
Down a labyrinth tunnel.

Suddenly cigarettes and sex
Ashes blowing in my face, legs braced
Shine their neon lights, croon a hex
Put in reverse, the Highway to Hell now trace.

The road to Heaven: paved with negative emotions
Then they wash away: holy oceans.
By His breath, now I see
Often I choose death, though for life I am free.

Despite my natural tilt, He
Takes the wickedness away;
He soothes empty guilt, it won’t
Come into play.

He may not stop me
But he lets me decide:
Who will I be?
Which way will I ride?

I am not a romantic, but
Tears of my eyes against Him I can’t hide,
In the midst of my frantic He
Is there by my side.

Mother Told Me I Could

He is my food
It is He who feeds me

I was saved by His blood
For His blood they may bleed me

In His might and triumph, my Father is good
It is enough: for me Jesus stood.

Once and for all, He wailed, “it is finished!”
Come, Holy Ghost, my spirit replenish.

Rinse my scars with Your sacred flood,
From my eyes remove the vile mud

I pray, I pray
You say, You say:

I am Yahweh, ever faithful
Life in Me, it is plentiful

All earthly pleasure from which I am booted
Are not like the hope in which I am rooted.

Stronger than dark, desperate desires
Are internal, blazing, heavenly fires

He with a brush from every race paints
His own, His precious, His train full of saints.

This Year

This year, so full. The action, unending. Now that I have suffered, suffered in a multitude of ways, I can enjoy-happily-all that there is to love about life. Late nights with friends, hearts on sleeves. Sweet, grassy smells. Incense, burning. Hammock, hanging. Boys and the way they taste-different, each. God and His majesty, revealed in a rainbow of ways. Thrift stores and NO HOMEWORK! Time to paint fingernails, toes. Maps Arts Gifts Waffle Fries. The library, the constant motion. Depositing checks $, going to concerts. Networking, knowing people and a place-exploring the depth of both. Frustrations with family, feet, feelings, sure. All the awesome cannot erase the awful. Yet, what joy is mine! In spite of surgery…and struggles, there is such sweetness to living.

This, my appreciation of it all.

Good jobs, great bosses, gracious friends. Outreach, outdoors. Long drives, lakes. People. People. People. Pulsation in my fingertips-I feel the veins against your skin. Being, growing, stretching. Life in all its’ wonder. Me, in all my imperfection. Pain, poignant, presses its’ finger on my everything. It wills me to snap. It encourages anger and abandonment of all that is lively and lovely. Happiness holds it at arms’ length for now. Fear(you dog!), today is not for you. This day is for nice, earthy, companionship…worship. Today is real. Pain, an illusion of yesterday and tomorrow.

Revolutions From Dystopia

East, West

Salt, Pepper

Will I succeed, do well?

Shall I excel?

AM I DOING THIS RIGHT?

And the Wind says, “yes,” while the Waves say, “no.”

There is trees and there’s mountains

I’m going up UP uP Up

A hungry belly, ache behind eyes

Only to fall down DOWN doWn DowN

Clouds in the sky, puffy like pipe-smoke

Thousands of people I see in a day, but don’t talk to; how many of them will show up in my dreams tonight?

My tongue is inside my mouth, I feel it laying there, just as lazy and lethargic as tongues tend to be.

What about the 10 human beings that I did talk to today? Where do they stand in the grand scheme of this? Best friend? Boyfriend? Aunt? Uncle? Benefactor? Person.

Colors: red, orange, yellow, pink, fuschia, green-blue, black.

I know that I’ll belong

An orgasmic cacophony of sights smells boredom;

Being alive.

Head, Hands, Feet

So I went to sing songs in the kids class this morning (like I do every Sunday) and we sang the hymn When I Survey the Wonderful Cross.  Then I migrated to my “adult” (what does that even mean, really?) Sunday school class where we sang O the Wonderful Cross: a slight rendition of the aforementioned, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.  I enjoyed that because it was a little bit different.  Yay.  Guess what we sang in actual worship?? When I Survey…!!!   Hahahaha!  Funny, but I wasn’t as annoyed as you’d think a typical American would be over that. Why?  Because I saw a parallel between it, and my life.  That song contains the Gospel.  Week after week, day after day, God shows me the Gospel.  He lays it in front of me saying, “Eat this, the bread of life,” and then He weeps as I exchange it for the bread of the flesh.  He holds on, however, and He offers the bread once more.  He plays that song again:

When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ my God!

All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down!

Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

On Sundays He sings it to me like a melody. Most of the time He has to scrape it into my skin like tattoo ink.

Thanks for doing that, Jesus. I love you.

Cloudy Eyes

I have broken,

Broken Your commands.

I see it now;

My eyes have been clouded with

Sin,

And I weep

Weep

Weep;

So evil,

So wretched,

So dark is my heart.

I am so sorry.

Hear my pleas for mercy once again

And be gracious-

Do not pass me by.

Teach me not to exhaust Your boundless grace.

I love You.

I love You.

Forgive my despicable behaviour.

Make me new

Again.

Replace my guilt with boldness,

Amen.

Life’s Lead Weight

The life He has chosen for me-

And I have agreed to-is going to be hard

It is not called the straight and narrow

Inaccurately.

This He tells me,

This I hear,

The lesson sinks deep into my stomach:

A lead weight

To last a lifetime.

Joy shines down to clarify the darkest of darks;

A broken Alleluia rolls off my tongue.

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession who are zealous for good works. (Titus 2:11-14)

Faith Is

Faith looks different in every stage of life. It morphs and changes each day. Life keeps us on our toes as we try and figure out what today’s faith looks like.

Right now, my faith is…

Believing that a perfect chain of events has led me where I am today.

It is not my fault-or any fault at all.

It is a Divine conspiracy.

Right now-here-is the destination.

Something great is going to happen.

This is not a dead end.

It is only a  rocky start.

This is not a preview of all the sorrows and struggles that my life shall be made up of.

Faith is getting affirmation from a God I cannot see because He alone understands what is going on.

Excelsior

It gets harder and harder to say,

Not my will but Yours be done,

For the path He has laid out for me hurts and hurts some more.

It tears every earthly joy from my life

It robs me of all that I love-

All who I love.

His path offers me pain and sorrow

Day after day,

But I continue to say it because

My will is broken,

My heart heavy.

I know now that the only joy there can be

For me

Is found in Him.

Life is Hell right now.

A fire that refines-

A fire all the same.

I cling to His promise:

….When you walk through the fire you shall not be burned, the flames will not consume you….

It is all I have.

He does not promise easy times;

Only a new day.

He is my life and breath

Short of Him, I am

A broken sea shell, washed up on life’s shore

In Him, I am

Precious, destined for greatness in adventure and growth.

Ever higher,

Constant-search for more Light.