Birthright of Grace

I rush around with perfectionist's fright
Am I doing everything right?
Not walking in the Gospel's light,
Forgetting Grace is my birthright.

That birthright makes me always able
To sit at His feet and eat at His table.
His love is true. His story no fable.
As His own child, I'm held fast and stable.

I can pray to Him--I am His own;
Jesus prays for me before the throne.
I can call God "Daddy;" by Christ, I am known.
I can run to His arms; I am never alone.

I can claim all the promises because of His power.
In every trial, He is my strong tower.
I'll always have victory for I am empowered
Moment by moment and hour by hour.

I'm completely free to live without shame
And to tear down the walls of guilt, fear, or blame.
I can laugh at the Devil for he cannot claim
Any authority; I have a new name.

I know I'm forgiven and I'm heaven-bound
And wait for the rapture's trumpet sound.
He has with loving-kindness crowned
Me as His child. Joy surrounds.

I rest in His freedom and trust His embrace.
I know that my past has all been erased.
I can climb in His lap and look up to His face;
And hear Him whisper, "Your birthright is Grace."


"But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus ..."
(Ephesians 2: 4-10)

Same, Same, Same, Same, Different

A life full of stripes--
Black, white, black, white--
Repetition of day and night.
Same, same, same, same.

She rambles through the mess
Of responsibility's stress.
Perfection rather than rest.
Same, same, same, same.

His head is in his hands
For He doesn't understand;
Where is truth in his life plan?
Same, same, same, same.


Same, Same, Same, Same--
This Truth we can claim
Because Faithful is His name.

Life full of the mundane
Hectic schedule, daily drain,
But because He is the Same
We must be without blame--
Different.

Running After Me

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty...For He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and buckler.... For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways...Because he holds fast to Me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows My name. When he calls to Me, I will answer him;   I will be with him in trouble;   I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him My salvation." (Ps. 91:1, 3-4,11,14-15)

So many times in my life, I realize that I am operating out of a works-based lifestyle--doing devotions vs. being in my Savior's presence.  Tonight I was reminded that I have a bad habit of taking even the things that are supposed to be part of the essence of grace and make them works.  Like resting.

Instead of simply resting in His presence, I make the whole resting idea out to be a process. If I can just find the rest, my actions say. I treat resting as if I'm hunting dry firewood in a forest that just underwent a hurricane. As if it were a nearly impossible task, I seek rest as if it were way out of reach and something I have to work at.

Psalm 91 is about God being our refuge. On the surface it is a beautiful depiction and an encouraging word for believers.  But digging deeper into the syntax of the sentences yields a freeing truth. (I know, this is where all my non-English major friends tune me out... but hang in there.=)  In grammar class, Dr. Stavick has been encouraging us to notice the use of pronouns both in comparison to the percentage of nouns and in analysis of the meaning of a text.  When I was reading through this, I particularly noticed how much focus was put on God and what He is doing.  Most of the chapter, we are the direct objects--the action is being performed upon us.  This is the opposite of my hunting for rest idea.  I am not the subject of most of these verses.  God is the subject, and He is performing the action.  He is delivering, protecting, covering, commanding, guarding, answering, rescuing, honoring, satisfying, and showing; all the difficult actions are His.  I am only dwelling, abiding, finding Him faithful, holding fast, knowing His name, and calling on Him.  None of the actions I am performing here require me to be running about.

All this time I've been running after refuge, Refuge has been running after me.

Living in the Red

Black and White
Dark and Light
Divisions.

The people of God splitting hairs
Over convictions.
The Redeemed Ones lacking care
For others.

Another way
All is gray
Abuse of liberty.

The people of God misusing grace
And forgetting
The Man of God's respected place
In their hearts.

None of these ways
Black, white, or gray
Are working.

The people of God are fighting;
No unity.
The Redeemed Ones should be lighting
The world.

What if, instead,
The color is red?
Christ blood.

The people of God alive in Him
Who bled
And redeemed them from sin
And said:

"Live like Me;
I am liberty
And I am restraint.
Liberty because you are under My blood
Restraint because your sin caused it.

You are not in black and white or gray;
You're in the red.
For though I paid your sin debt,
Even yet,
You're in debt to My grace.

You cannot Me repay
But you can
Walk in My way
Each day.

Forsaking black, white and gray,
Follow Me for you are
Living in the red.

I Got a B: For Best with Grace

The test came
And went.
I tried hard,
I studied much,
I worked diligently.

Only to get a B.

And I told myself
I was bad.
I should've done better.

The test came
And went.
She tried hard,
She studied much,
She worked diligently.

And got a B.

And I told her
It was okay.
She'd tried her best
And I was proud of her.

Today, I was thinking
About that test.
Frustrated with myself
And tearing myself down
For not doing better.

And then Light began to dawn.

Jesus told us to love our neighbor as ourselves
But maybe
We need to love ourselves as our neighbor.
Just maybe.

After all,
I cut her slack
Told her it was okay.
Why was I beating myself up?

Why was I holding myself to a high standard of performance
When all Jesus had for me was grace?

So I asked Him.
What is the truth:
The balance between
Striving for excellence
And striving for perfection?

And He said:
"The test came
And went.
You tried hard,
You studied much,
You worked diligently.

You got a B.
But it's not the end of the world.
I just want you to remember my grace
Remember
That my strength is made perfect in your weakness.

It is okay.
You tried your best
And I am proud of you."

I got a B: For Best with Grace.

Be Gentle on Yourself...

You carry a burden much too heavy
For your shoulders.
Doing.
Performing.
Be gentle on yourself.

You weren't created to find your worth
In what you DO.
You're YOU
The only one on this earth.

Perfection isn't to be found in a broken people.
Grace must run free
For me.
For you.

Cut yourself some slack and while you are
Remember that your adherence to a list of rules
Won't stand forever.
Since we live for eternity,
Why should something with no value in heaven
Define us in the here and now?

Store up treasure in heaven
Rather than the approval of men on this earth.
He is extending arms of mercy
And acceptance of the work you do for Him.

Rush around performing and fretting over your goodness?
At the end of your day
He'll say,
Be gentle on yourself.

Desire His smile;
Look only into Abba's face.
Seek truth but remember grace.
Be gentle on yourself.

Eyes/"I"s...

Windows into my soul's depth
You reveal my unloving heart.
You look
For bad
In others
How very
Selfishly
You act!
Why do you criticize everyone?
You put me to utter shame


As I realize the horrible truth:
You search for the bad so that
You can
Claim to
Be better.
Look at
Your own
Problems!
They are numerous. Remember:
The humble man is the wise one.


Stop thinking about making "I" great
Stop always labeling yourself perfect
And search
Your heart.
Maybe there
Are some
Things you
Can learn.
Suddenly,
I see for the first time my own desperate
Need, and I stop to pray for humble eyes.



"Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye." (Matthew 7:3-5)

Prowling Perfectionism

Perfect
Black and white
Wrong and right
Always higher
Expectations

People practicing
Pretentious performance--
Constant criticism,
Demobilizing discouragement,
Rigid rules.

Does God really love the righteous more?

Ponder
The Words of the God of Grace:
"My strength
Is made perfect
In weakness,
Your weakness."

So think again.

Could brokenness be the key to holiness?
Could our mistakes be the way He shows His beautiful Love?
Could our ugly things be how He shows His glory?
Could His grace be that which makes the imperfect holy?

Consider:
He is perfect;
We are in Him.
Why should we then strive?

Goose!

Fifteen
Playful children
Throw balls
Pick teams
Or rather...
Fourteen

All
Enjoying the fun
Except the one
Little girl.

They skip over her
'Till she's the last to pick to play
Never throwing the ball her way.

Her eyes, deep and brown
Seek the ground.

A new game is introduced:
Duck, Duck, Duck, Goose.

She sits in the circle
Chosen by no one
At all.
I sit down with them;
They are excited that I want to play.
I smile at the Sad One.

Goose! I hear above my head
Before I move the child has fled
And I am on the run.
I no longer sit--
I'm it.

I touch each wondering one
Who in suspense
Is ready to run.
Her head is drooping
Not expecting anyone to choose her.

I pass around the circle
Enjoying the look of mystery in their eyes
Until they sigh
With impatience.

I laugh.
Then with one gleeful chant
I see those brown eyes dance
As at my "goose"
She jumps up
In joy.

She even catches me
And I'm glad to sit "in the pot"
Midst the giggles
Just for that look in her eyes,
That smile that shows her missing teeth.

Sitting there
Watching her delight as she calls out "duck,"
I'm rather awe-struck.
I'm a "goose"
Chosen by God
When I felt all alone.
His love picked me out
And made me His own.

And His love
Never fails.

"These things have I spoken unto you...that your joy might be full...I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from My Father I have made known to you. You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you." (John 15:11, 15b, 16)

Autumn Shadows

Shadows dance
And the wind whispers the scent
Of fall.
Autumn raises its head
From its Summer Slumber
As lonely
Leaves
000fall
0000from
000000Coloring Trees.
They gather on the ground
Together
With the changing shadows.
Shadows of the leaves above,
Shadows of their fallen comrades,
Reflecting praise
While dancing in willing
Worship
Of their Creator.

Penguins' Perspective

Black splotches against
Cold whiteness.
Like Oreos in vanilla icecream.
Swirling around in the
Bleakness.
Gathering together against
The wind's chill.
Zooming in, one notices
The individuality
Versus the crowd
Of parents shielding their young.
A humorous sight--
Parents laboring
In fancy tuxedos.
What do they wish to instill in their young?
Black and white,
No gray, no color is present,
Strict.
Together they march
In one huddle--
An army of Distinction
With one purpose:
Surviving.
The rules of survival are
Definite.
Nothing can be left
Undone.
Death clenches from birth
And devours
In the moment of
Carelessness.
They look at their world of black and white
As perfection.
Not knowing of the rainbows
Beyond their icy world.
Frozen but families
Cold but caring
Seeking the right ways
To live.
So they continue
Huddling for heat,
Life on the snow
Under the world.

Mirror on the Wall

for Maura L., that you might remember that you're beautiful...

Mirror on the Wall,
Reflection of my face,
You speak the truth
Yet lie to me
Simultaneously.

Like a ruler
You show me
That I don't measure up.
Like a detective
You uncover my faults.
Why show me
Truth
Like pimples and dark circles?
Why not lie
In moments
Such as these?

Mirror on the wall,
You're a liar.
You tell me
I'm ugly
Because I don't look like
A super-model.

Let me tell you
Something:
I don't believe you.
You're a coward--
Going with the flow of
Modern culture.

Mirror on the wall,
How dare you?
Woman in the reflection,
What will you
Believe?

Perceive past the pimples
To the smile.
Delve deeper than dark circles;
See the eyes.

Eyes that show the
Joy
Of a compassionate heart.

The beauty that the
Mirror on the Wall
Overlooked.

Conviction Concerning Compassion

Sadness hid behind her eyes
Filled with struggle, poverty, lies,
Around her--roaches, mildew, mold;
This filth had taken its steady toil.
Her face for His Hope cried.

I asked her, "Are your parents here?"
She closed her eyes; they filled with tears.
"I've never met my dad before;
Mom left me with my aunt at four.
She's been gone for three years."

Her frame shook with fear and shame
She turned away to hide her pain.
I wanted to hug her though it wouldn't do much
But she pulled away at my finger's touch
Of her shoulders -- too young for such strain.

I strongly longed to fix her mess.
I could only say, "Come to VBS?"
She took the page and held it tight.
Then suddenly, I saw it -- a flicker of light
Inside her gaze of loneliness.

She spoke with surprise, "You want me to come?
I've never been invited by anyone."
I looked at her face and felt my tears rising
Her path of life and pain realizing
And a part of me tried to run.

So often we run from the truth of their days
Thinking that somehow, it'll just go away.
We've heard that it happens, we know that it's there,
But we get so caught up with me and my care
That their unreached condition stays.

I looked at her squarely to share with her truth
And said to her, "Yes. Yes! We want to have YOU!
I love you and Jesus loves you, you know"
Her aunt was calling and she'd have to go
But she flashed me a grin and I knew

I wouldn't be running anymore from their pain
For now that I'd seen it I wasn't the same.
I know the compassion that God wants in me
That shows broken people they can be free
Through the power of Jesus' name.

A Smile!

for the Snow family

Heartache,
Confusion,
Stress.

Struggle,
Hardship
Weariness.

Day to day
To day again.
At times it seems
Without an end.
Where is our God?


But then!

A smile!

Yet not one smile
But more.

Nathaniel smiles
The family does, too.
Could times be changing
Could Hope be true?

Yet not these only
Smile
But more
The best of all:
Our Lord.

He smiles
And sings over them.
"Sometimes I have to work within."

"Just because you do not see
My work, still trust in Me.

The outer will come
Soon
In perfect time after the in.
No matter what, I always complete
Each and every work I begin."


Nathaniel smiles
His Healer, too.

All is well.

Struggling

She does the right things
Or at least, she tries.
But it's never
Good enough.
She gives up trying
And does the wrong things.

She knows that is not
The right attitude,
But she's yearning for acceptance
Just as she is.
Why try
If nothing can satisfy
Others?

Why can she never make the mark?
She feels so empty.
Where is her purpose?
Where is her God?

Yearning

She does those things with which we don’t agree.
Our criticism stares
Our judgment kills.
Can we not see?

She’s yearning
For love
For Him
But we never embrace her.

How will she find True Love if she cannot
Hear the Savoir
Over the clamor of our condemnation?

She’s yearning
For Hope
For Him
But we pass her by.

How will she find His Hope if she cannot
Feel His fullness
Over the continuance of our complaining?

She’s yearning
For Peace
For Him
But we whisper over her weaknesses.

How will she find His rest if she cannot
Sense His serenity
Over the hurricane of our hypocrisy?

She’s yearning
For Truth
For Him
But we turn her away.

How will she find His reality if she cannot
Perceive His presence
Over the jabbering of our jargon?

She does those things with which we don’t agree.
But she’s seeking shelter, love, eternity.
His body suffered all so she could be
Clean.

But Body of Christ
We fail Him
By doing all those things His body would not.

She’s yearning.
Can we not see?

Singing

Singing
for Elya Snow
Based on Zephaniah 3:17

Frightened,
She stands
Where the rubber meets the road,
Where the waiting greets the incident,
Where her wings test the sky.

What does the future hold?

If only things were
Like they once were!

But
Then what of the perfect plans
That have strengthened her faith
In her Infinite God?

What of the answered prayers
That have proven
A testimony to the lost ones she’s spoken with?

What of the testimony
That will one day testify
Of His wonderful love?

Her head knows these things are true,
And yet,
She still stands
Waiting,
Frightened,
Worried.
Scared of the leap of faith that must come
Soon.

The moment presents itself
And she takes the leap,
Praying
For help,
For peace.

“Help me mount up,”
Her heart cries,
“With wings like eagles.
Help me be strong!”

And yet,
She is falling.
Why are her wings not enough?
Why is her God not giving her strength?

“Listen closer.”
“Listen closer.”
He prompts her fearful heart.
And then she hears it—
Singing.

She smiles and rises
Upon the morning’s dawn.
Listening
To the singing—
The precious singing of her Savior
Especially for her.

Now she soars,
Into whatever lies ahead,
Mounting up with wings as an eagle.
Safe,
Held,
Quieted
By His loving songs:

“Let Me sing over you
My daughter, My girl.
Be still.
Let Me draw you
Into My arms.
Rest in My peace
For it will
Never
Pass away.
I rejoice over you
And long
To quiet your fearful heart.
I will be Faithful
Always.
My will forever seeks your good.

Let Me sing over you
My daughter, My girl.
I love you!”

Distracted Bride

Distracted Bride
for Heidi Schlender


People gather
To see the sight.
They wait
For her—
The girl in white.

But none
Waits more
Than he.

The groom is
Grinning wide
As he waits for her eyes
To lock into his.

But the girl in the back
Is distracted
As the usher’s open the doors.

She sees the people,
The flowers,
The runner on the floor.

She sees the petals that fell
Misplaced
Onto the carpet.

She sees her friends
And calls out,
“How’s it goin’?”
“What’s up?”
“We need to hang out, ‘kay?”

The Groom’s smile wanes,
He waits in vain
For her to look his way,
For her to remember to spend time
With Him—
Her best friend.

She stops abruptly
Halfway down
The aisle
And turns around.

And she goes backward
Wondering.

Why does she feel empty?
What of the love she was in?

***

The Groom stands
At the throne of heaven
He waits
For her—
The Church, His Bride.

The groom is
Grinning wide
As He waits for her eyes
To lock into His.

But she sees people’s faults
Praise’s glory
The rocks upon her path.

She sees the opportunities that fell
Misplaced;
They are so important to her
That she fails to look ahead.

She sees her earthly friends
And calls out,
“How’s it goin’?”
“What’s up?”
“We need to hang out, ‘kay?”

The Groom’s smile wanes,
He waits in vain
For her to look His way.
To take time to want to hang out
With Him.

Something happens.
She stops abruptly
Halfway down
The aisle of life
And turns around.

And she goes slowly backward
Wondering.

Why does she feel empty?
What of the love she was in?

***

The bride in the church looks
Past the colorful sea of people
Past all in her pathway.
To His face
His eyes
His smile.

No distractions seem to bother her
As long as her eyes are his,
As long as he is there.
Waiting
Saying everything in that stare
Of love.

And she knows
He is what is important as she walks the aisle.
He is the joy that makes her full.

This is His Story

The Author picks up the pen
And pauses.
Must He write the horrible words
Of pain?
Of suffering?

Must He chronicle the tears,
The broken road?
Must He foreshadow
The shadows of death?

Must He pen cries
Of fear
And want?
Must He chant
Mournful songs
Through the mouths of His characters?

The Author picks up His pen
And begins.
Yes,
He writes the painful stories.
The parts of the work that some might consider
Bad.

But He pens the story
In His beautiful script,
Knowingly.

He smiles.
He's aware

That without the bad
The story’s for naught.
How can the reader sense
Dramatic need
If all is well?

The Author picks up His pen
And writes.
Stories both good and bad.
For the story is
All
About contrast.

For how can good
Be good
Without bad?

The Author picks up His pen
And smiles.
His characters relax.

He may put them through times of sorrow
Of disappointment,
Of grief.
But He is still
The Author of their incredible story.
Blending joy and peace
Into a perfect plot.

A plot
Where both good and bad
Fade into good
Because of His loving touch.

The Author picks up His pen
With authority.
This is His story
All is well.

He Covers Me

He Covers Me

The battle's on
The bullets fly.
I hear the wounded's
Desperate cry.
I trust.
I pray.
I know.
I see.
Jesus Christ,
He covers me.

He aims, so sure,
At Pain and Fear.
Only lets them shoot
To drive me near.
I run
Toward Him.
I hide.
I flee.
Jesus Christ,
He covers me.

Though some may wound me,
Close beside,
Yes, even in me
He abides!
I heal.
I seek
His face,
His peace.
Jesus Christ,
He covers me.

I cannot help but joy
For He
From my pain
Sets me free!
I sing.
I rest.
I simply
BE.
Jesus Christ,
He covers me.