Broken Windows

I look beyond the window
Of the house wherein I dwell.
I long to dance upon the moss,
Drink water from the well,
Engage in conversation
With the children playing there.
But my longing turns to tears
As I breathe this stuffy air.
This room with four square corners
That I know is not my call.
Why must I then be stuck here
While outside Autumn falls?
With all that is within my heart,
I want to self-combust.
I raise my fist to break that pane.
One whispered syllable: "Trust."
Angrily, I shake my fist
"But now, NOW is my time!"
And out of frustration
I sit to pout and whine.
But the still, small voice just waits
For me to settle down.
Then speaks in tones so gentle,
"I'm not trying to keep you bound.
I don't want you to bust the window,
But that doesn't mean You're doomed.
I only want to protect You.
Broken windows badly wound.
I'll open it up in my timing;
Child, soon you will fly free
And do those things I made you for,
But for now, please trust in Me.
I can't tell you what I'm planning;
It must be a surprise.
But when I do it that sight out the window
Will be too glorious for your eyes."
I look beyond the window
Of the house wherein I dwell
And the excitement builds within me.
As I know this: All is well.


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To read the Oregon Journey blog post that corresponds with this poem, go HERE.

As Sure as Breath is Life

Lifeless desert sand dunes, a grove of trees for shade,
A family: Abram, Sarai, Ishmael, Hagar (Sarai's maid).
Manipulative, backfired plans that sprung from faithless doubt
Yet El Roi wasn't finished; He knew what would come out
Of all the mess;
He still would bless.
As sure as breath was life.

These words spoken from heaven: "Almighty God am I.
Walk "all in" before me; make My Name your first cry.
A sure, abounding covenant, a name-change so intentional
By man's standards so strange and extremely unconventional.
The "h" sound entails
A distinct exhale
As sure as breath is life.

The name given to the Spirit in Hebrew is Ruah
It literally means "the outbreathing;" a fact our Father foresaw.
When the Father changed the name, He exhaled for the "h" sound,
Making the name Abra[h]am: Jehovah's breath in Abram found.
Abraham
Father of many lands
As sure as breath is life.

When anyone receives Him, they have a new identity,
Christ in them, the Hope of glory, in one holy entity.
The Holy Spirit takes His place, Ruah breathes anew.
And enables us to reproduce as we His glory pursue.
Abba smiles--
Breath-fills His child
As sure as breath is life.

Pig-Slop Kiss

based on Luke 15:11-24

Dirty, grimy, gross, and poor,
Tired, weary to the core,
Awkward, muddy, rebellious teen,
Unbathed, anything but clean.

Clean, pure, washed, and wealthy,
Strong, well-dressed, able, healthy,
Confident, transparent, graceful,
Always patient, ever faithful.

Joyful greeting, undignified run,
Huge hug for Father and son.
Blatant forgiveness, ginormous party,
Big meal--potatoes and steak kind of hardy.

Laughter and joy so starkly contrasted
To past fleeting pleasures that never had lasted.
No more pigpen, instead royal treatment,
Despite the child's poor choices so frequent.

Miracle of love--it holds no grudge;
Reconciled! though I was covered in sludge.
What beautiful reality! Our Father planned this
And rejoiced to give me a pig-slop kiss.

Desert Flood

Endless miles of sand ahead,
Behind, around, fill my soul with dread.
Why was I by Him this path led?
Could He not choose another?

My soul is heavy, weak, and dry.
Where once light, strengthened, satisfied.
My week's most frequent word is "why?"
Could He not choose another?

And yet while it appears at hand
That I walk in water-lacking land.
The deluge of rain I cannot withstand.
Should it not be one or the other?

Pelting drops that sting my face
Join a river's torrent; my feet displace.
My tears join the current; I plead for grace.
Could He not choose another?

My soul is drowning, water-logged.
Where once abundant: sorrow-bogged.
The amount of change left my senses clogged.
Could He not choose another?

How could I be both dry and wet?
Would not one the other offset?
How could I combine them yet?
Maybe I could choose another?

I fight to keep the water near
That I might the desert re-engineer,
But it only more quickly disappears
Till I turn my gaze to Another.

Abba, I don't know how the Grand Design
Allows for seasons so undefined
But I know Your plan is better than mine
So I won't seek another.

I'll crawl through the desert, bowing my knee,
And sing in the rain of Your fidelity.
I'll trust Your perfect placement for me
Until You choose another.

Each day You ever my life preserve
Such that I can't give the praise You deserve.
For if so, what kind of god would I serve?
For my God is like no other!

Fading Mist

Drops of water

Converged

Once upon a time

To make a cloud.

Closely

They interacted:

Laughing and Crying,

Giving and Taking,

Sharing and Bearing

As they passed together

Over the mountains and valleys of fleeting

Moments.

But the winds!

How they continuously

Batter the bonds of 

Friendship.

And the sun--

How it relentlessly

Melts the marks of 

Comradery.

So the sorrow begins

As the mist is forcefully

Divided.

Not knowing at what time

It may unite again.

Nevertheless,
Time marches on

With uncaring pace and unkind intentions

That slice stubbornly

And scream silently

Through the fading mist.

The Young Man and the Sea

Cerulean waves of depth, threatening 

The young man's hope.

What is the scope

Of the horizon?

It surprised him

How well he knew the sounds

Of wind and rain.

He turned around to bait his line

Casting it to the depth of possibility

Doubting his ability.

Yet knowing he must to it cling.

Gray waves of exhaustion, overwhelming

His clouded mind.

Faith and Doubt intertwined

With harsh reality. 

The winds of joviality--

How they had dissapated to doldrums

Of boisterous calm. 

He felt the weight tugging his line.

Lifting it from the sea, he sighed

For the hook held only Disappointment Applied.

When would he land opportunity? 

Silver moon of reflected light, gleaming

Over the man.

As he fights to stand

And flourish and live.

What the light's glimmer gives!

How it paired with the stars points

To True North!

He grasps at the bow, thinking.

Renewing his purpose, line he cast

For he'd harbor no bitter thoughts of the past

For lack of faith could destroy him.

But what could defeat him?

"A man can be destroyed but not defeated." ~Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

Forty-four Thousand

Based on Luke 8: 42b-48

Forty-four thousand in need of His touch

Surely the multitude would prove too much.

How could I reach Him through the crowd?

I couldn't call; they were much too loud.

I couldn't text Him so He'd sit with me. 

Yet I needed His presence to truly be free.

Forty-four thousand inside the Dome

A place God had come to dwell in as Home--

Could all of us feel Him? Could all of us know

His heart for us? Could He stop our blood flow?

We worshiped and called Him, we asked for His grace

Until suddenly we realized--His robe filled that place!

We all saw Him sitting on a throne--exalted, 

Willing to heal the oppressed and assaulted.

He was there in His power as His glory descended,

Willing to make the broken hearts mended.

He was there in His love; his robes invited

Every soul to come, be refreshed and ignited.

And in our healing He rejoiced, delighted.

Forty-four thousand who've felt His power

Who no longer have a reason to cower,

We'll go in peace as Jesus told us,

Knowing His everlasting arms infold us.

We cannot consume Him, no matter how many

Reach out, but He can consume us plenty.

We're going out boldly to proclaim His name,

To do something now for His glory and fame.

For His glory we'll be the voice outspoken

To free the bruised, the battered, the broken.

We don't have to worry about the mocking from "them."

He'll be our renewal; we cling to His hem.

We're not ashamed of the One Who saved us!

Indifference and apathy no more enslave us.

"Jesus" will be our proclamation

To our country and every foreign nation.

We are the Lord's generation!

No Funerals Here!

Based on Luke 7:11-17

The funeral took me through the desert.

Sorrow was all I had to eat.

Tears were the only drink provided

For all I could do was trudge and weep.

All surrounding me screamed "ashes."

I felt dead in my pain and fear.

But then I saw a man in the distance,

Beckoning me to come, draw near.

At first I thought I saw a mirage

Until I saw a city, too.

And above the city gates was written:

"Beauty--where the dead find life anew."

This was no mirage--but Jesus!

He touched my coffin and said, "Arise!"

And all that had felt dead within me

Suddenly became alive!

His mercy filled me with His peace,

Discouragement replaced by dancing.

All I could do was respond, abandoned

To being a part of His kingdom-advancing.

First quietly worshipful--then noisily grateful--

I praised the Healer of the nations.

No funerals here; God's come to help us!

Truly we are a chosen generation!

That Blessed Hope

Based on Titus 2:11-14

One night in hopeless Bethlehem

As Roman soldiers walked the streets,

As crowded inns are filled with travelers,

The world a newborn baby meets.

A baby Who came to change the world,

That it might no more in darkness grope;

He's Light of the World, Savior of all,

Our Righteousness, that Blessed Hope.

This day in hopeless America

As nothing is solid, nothing is sure,

As we wonder what will happen tomorrow,

He is the One Who shall endure.

He's the Rock to stand upon in trials.

Encourage each other; do more than cope!

For he fulfilled the first coming promise,

And he'll come again--that Blessed Hope.

And one day in this hopeless world

As we do not expect His shout,

As trumpets sound, He will descend,

Secure His children and crush all doubt.

The King Who reigns, forevermore,

Will reveal His glory in fullest scope.

We'll worship Him as we rise to heaven,

"All honor to You, our Blessed Hope!"

Big Enough

For the people of New York City; may God show His power and glory to each of you in a powerful way!


Just like the monoliths that tower above the city streets
Look so much bigger in person than what most generally meets
The eye when you look at pictures, that's what I'm like--enhanced,
So powerful and above all. You must do more than glance.
Refuse to rely on pictures that others give you of Me.
Draw near and take in My glory. Know firsthand My majesty.
I'm big enough to hold your hand in the crowded ways you face.
I'm big enough to meet your needs with My relentless grace.
I'm big enough to grant you strength to share My hope with them.
I'm big enough to pick you up when you fall and yield to sin.
I'm big enough to orchestrate all out for your best good.
I'm big enough to help you do things you never could.
I'm big enough to handle the moments when you cry.
I'm big enough to take it if you need to ask me why.
I'm big enough to sing with you when sun in your life shines.
I'm big enough on cloudy days to whisper "You are Mine."
I'm big enough to satisfy your hunger and your thirst.
I'm big enough to help you when your life yield you the worst.
I'm big enough to give you joy when the roadway seem too rough.
I promise you, my child. Be still. I am big enough.

Abba, Why?

for the family and friends of Camryn Pass, a precious, dynamic young lady that God took to heaven on October 9th, 2011

In pain and confusion

My heart questions, cries.

And I wonder if I'm sinning

By asking God, "Why?"

Why must death happen

To those who love You?

Why take the young ones

When there's so much to do?

Why hurt their families?

Why pain their friends?

How does this prove that

Your love never ends?

My heart is all numb;

This doesn't seem real.

I ask all these questions

But then guilty feel.

What if I'm not supposed

To question Your plan?

What if asking "why"

Is not trusting Your hand?

But a wise friend brings comfort

And helps me to see

That You want my heart's trust 

And yet full honesty.

"It's okay to ask why;

That's not a sin.

It only sin when you want 

An answer more than Him."

Abba, I want an answer;

I'm not going to lie.

But deep down, more than that

I want to draw nigh

To Your heart by Your promise

That You stay the same.

This is all for Your glory

And the praise of Your name.

So whether You answer me

Or blind trust request.

I will rest in the promise

That You do what is best.

Thank you, Abba, for letting 

Me ask You, "Why?"

And for counting each one

Of the tears I cry.

While I'd love explanations

For the the things that You do.

Above all else,

I want to know You.

You Make My Heart Sing

When my past tries to haunt me
And keep me down low,
When my future looks scary
And I don't even know
What I'm doing in this world,
When I'm tired of the pain,
When my sky is unviewable
Through the deluge of rain,
When the enemy attacks me
With outrageous fears,
When my body is aching
And I've cried all my tears,
When my throat is all scratchy
From calling your name,
When the fire of my joy
Is a mere struggling flame,
When I look at my friends lives
And I'm tempted to covet,
When I slip and forget I'm
In the world not of it,
When I recite the answers
In lifeless intonation,
When others don't listen
Or raise expectations,
When I wonder if I'll
Ever hear Your voice,
Then You send the assurance
And then I rejoice.
For I know You are worthy
And control all things,
When in the darkest times
You make my heart sing.

"He taught me how to sing the latest God-song, a praise-song to our God. More and more people are seeing this: they enter the mystery, abandoning themselves to God." (Psalm 40:3, The Message)

Looking over Jerusalem

Looking over Jerusalem,
Jesus wept
As the people performed
And opportunity was swept
Under the Rug of
Passing Time.
They misunderstood
The meaning of prime
-----And then He was gone.

Looking over our cities,
Jesus weeps.
For superficial religion
And performance keep
Us from Abba
And being a part
Of relationship
And Jesus' heart
-----That longs to give us rest.


Looking over my city,
My friends,
I weep for those who
View works as an end
To righteousness;
They do,
Forgetting Grace
And You.
------Caught in the clasp of Legalism.

Looking over Your people,
I pray
That You would reveal
Your gospel-filled way.
May my friends and I
Seek to know
The Giver of Life
And in You grow
-----That Christ might smile.

The Verbs of Restoration

Lying on my face

Tears falling fast,

Pleading for grace

For things in the past,

Knowing my sin

Has hurt Your heart,

Wishing deep within

I had not taken part,

Spilling out words

Of confession and sorrow,

Praying I'm heard

And that on the morrow

Beginning anew

I might follow Your plan.

Kneeling before You,

I stretch forth my hands.

Opening my palms

And yielding all in them,

Feeling the calm

Of the heart that has no sin,

Hearing You call

"Come know and be known,"

Being unafraid to fall

In Your arms as Your own,

Feeling the laughter

And joy that You give,

Rising up after 

Freedom's mine to live.

Sensing Your presence,

Seeking You with all my might,

Worshipping Your essence,

Laughing in delight!

Important

He sat writing,

Penning word after word again.

It seemed that every time I saw Him

Over and over in my dreams

He sat there, papers scattered 

Around Him in reams.

I could not help but wonder

What words lay under

His pen.

 What did He consider so 

Important?

I sat copying

The Words of Abba into my journal

Combating my discouragement with His paternal

Promises of peace and hope

That say nothing is outside the scope 

Of His watchful eye.

When I cry--

According to Psalm 56--

He makes a list;

Not one tear is missed.

He sat smiling.

Looking up from His writing, He turned to me,

Whispering, "Come here, my child, and see."

It was then I knew

What He found so 

Important.

I stood crying

Viewing trillions of pages:

The record of tears over the ages,

The ledger of Adam and Moses and Sarah,

And everyone thereafter to this very era.

And not only the tears but every heartache

Found it's way on the page with a time and a date,

Proving Psalm 56:8.

He sat writing,

As I observed the proof of His faithfulness.

And when I turned to look into His eyes

I realized

He was marking down those tears, also.

Those tears that overflowed

As I thanked Him for love so unrestrained

That He could consider me and my pain

So Important.

"You've kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in Your ledger, each ache written in Your book." (Psalm 56:8)

No Missing Tear (Psalm 56)

My enemy is against my very life

And torments me with words of strife,

Trying to get me to fall to sin

Twisting my words all around again.

My God, will You forget Your grace

Or hide Your face?

In You--You only--I put my trust;

I will fear nothing; I simply must

Rest in You.  You keep a list 

Of the tears I cry; not one is missed.

Oh, God, when their ridicule is appalling

You keep me from falling.

Your love-lit path is Grace applied,

May my life Your glory never hide!

Time to Die

When morning light

Steals away the night

And I wake, I will draw nigh.

To my Savior-King

I yield everything;

For it's time to die.

When I hear sin's call

And I waver to fall

Just in time Jesus's name I cry.

Help me drop this fire;

It's not what I desire!

And it's time to die.

When my flesh is strong

Or my will is wrong

Or I'm believing Satan's lie,

True life I will seek--

Strength when I am weak--

Because it's time to die.

May I follow hard

After You, my Guard

From sin; May Your grace supply

My victory

And humility

When it's time to die.

"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (Gal 2: 20)

God, Listen! (Psalm 143)

Listen, 

My God and my King

To what I am asking!

And after hearing,

Answer me!

Please!

Oh, God do not base

Your help on my merit

For I have none.  But grace

May Your child inherit!

Satan seeks to knock me down

And into a corner back me,

Convincing me light cannot be found

And victory is utterly lacking.

I'm overwhelmed within, without;

My tears have become my friend.

I try to rehearse, even shout,

Of the wonders You did "back then."

I stretch my arms out to mirror my soul

"Oh to know You more," I cry.

As in a desert land, I wearily toil;

My heart is thirsty and dry.

Please answer me, Abba! And fast!

Lest my spirit break or I fall!

Don't turn away or shirk my grasp

For without You, I've nothing at all!

Point out the way that I must walk;

Give me clues to unveil my mystery.

May I not simply talk the talk!

From idols, may You set me free!

Save me from all those who hate

Your will; All my hope I will place

In Your grace and mercy, and I'll wait

In Your presence till You show Your face.

Teach me how to live to please

You only. Let Your truth be shown!

For Your name's sake, all my worries seize

And make Your glory known.

Listen, 

My God and my King

To what I am asking!

And after hearing,

Answer me!

I am Your servant.

Identity

Pain clouds your eyes,

And you try

To be

Better

Stronger

Sweeter

More Unique

More Beautiful

More Lovable

Less of a burden

Less weary

Less emotional

More Hopeful

More Helpful

More Holy

Smart

Skinny

Best

But do you not realize?

You are

So Much More

Than what you DO.

Your identity goes beyond

Your body, too.

Your brains do not say

Who you are,

And you treat those labels

Like make-up on a scar.

Do you not know?

You are

So Much More 

Than DO and DON'T;

Your identity goes beyond

How you'll act and how you won't.

Others' approval

Cannot control

Whether you feel 

Half or whole.

Only the promise

That His love never fails

Should define you;

Crown of thorns and the nails

And the life of One

Who was perfect and true

Can label you

Not what you DO.

Only that Savior

Who died for me

Says who I am;

I'm free

To simply BE

Loved.

Spotless.

Beautiful.

Redeemed.

Righteous.

Real.

One-of-a-kind.

A new creature.

Fully alive.

Pure.

Whole.

HIS.

Nothing More Than More of You

Should I continue sinning--
Temptation winning--
That grace might prove true?
That's crazy!
I'm free,
And I need
Nothing more than more of You.

I stop my lying--
My pride denying--
In Christ I am made new.
I say no
That even so
I might know
Nothing more than more of You.

For more than rules I thirst;
The relationship comes first.
Still I do what I would not to do.
I will say yes
To Your best
And request
Nothing more than more of You.

No desire to sin have I
Through the strength of Jesus Christ.
There is no comdemnation of those who
You have lifted higher
Out of sin's mire.
I desire
Nothing more than more of You!