SOS

Do you think I can't see?
Stumbling in this darkness,
this well water refuge
where I cannot breathe.
Dare me to have faith in
the pain, take me in your
arms and wish me away

burn the light from this
broken machine, this
dying hollow..
once I had so much
and now I am made of so little.

there is this
trepidation and fear
silence and destruction
a well meant hand to hold
me under for as long
as it takes to
drown the hope.

It is my cross that I
will nail you too
each scream from my own
mouth as I call out to every
tear that pours free
until I am numb..
until the last of this slips
from your grasp.

I thought I knew the words
the protection of your love
the trust in my heart
i thought i knew that you meant for
this to be a life I could
lead and in your name
i know the truth...

you can give me anything..
but love.

40 Ways of Lent.

The trials of Lent have been unforgiving.
it’s what I asked of them, for them to test me and push me
As I sit as still as I can in the face of it.
It has been my experience that Lent is a time
When people give up things they like in favor of
A Jesus they don’t really know.
I wont eat chocolate.
I wont go out every night.
I wont spend money frivolously.
I wont over eat.
I wont drive to fast.
I wont swear.
I wont, I wont, I wont.
For 40 days we wont.
Then we will.
And it was nothing but a temporary inconvenience.
In the name of the Lord Jesus,
We wont.

I thought of everything I could give up for 40 days
And there were lists of bad behaviors and old habits
That I could confine to the rest of my life and free up
Those 40 days.
My job of ‘getting behind Jesus’ on this one.
Nothing fit.
At this point in my life I don’t want to give anything up for 40 days.
If I give it up, it needs to be for the rest of my life.
That’s where I am stuck most often…
You need to make it count, make what you do matter.
You can give up for favorite food for 40 days,
But could you have given up your life?
Could you have walked for miles and miles to your own death?
Is that worth the weight of the chocolate you gave up?
The drink you aren’t having?
The money don’t spend?
Or are you perhaps not really meeting the bottom line on this one?

I think everyone has their own account they keep with the Lord.
We know what we’ve withdrawn, what we put in, what we owe in overdrafts and what we can expect this months loan payment to be.
But the Lord keeps no account with us, he isn’t noting in a ledger
That does and donts of everything we are doing.
He (yes, I’m afraid I like to think of the Lord as a man) doesn’t need
The petty moments of our life to figure us out.
He knows the worst of you, the best of you…
The right and wrongs.
He makes no lists, keeps no tally and you can’t shock him with any amount of fear or deliverance.
He is there for you, waiting for you.
He has no agenda but I think he has a full understanding that we need
To make all of that work for us down here.
We cannot remain at peace with ourselves.
So we give things up, we give ourselves over to sufferings and
Acts of contrition…
We pray, weep, sing and praise to let him know the things he knows
Already, he loves us and stands over us like the eyes of a parent
Over a baby who is learning to just take those first unsteady steps.

What does all this have to do with Lent?
It has to do with my decisions for this Lent.
I couldn't give anything up and make it matter, because my life
Is all that I have to give up that could possibly express the truth
Of what was given and lived…
And so many people I know are set against me giving that up
(maybe I will call you my apostles, my Judas’.. my Peters…
but in this I am no Jesus, too weak to walk to my knowing death)

what would God have me do, if I were not so young and opposed (as children often are to their parents demands). What would he ask of me in this season of Lent.
If I ask
“Father, what would you have me do to show that I am aware of your love and the forgiveness your Son laid upon me and my sins?”

Like any good parent
He was quick to answer.

This Lent I do not give up anything at all.
I give in. I give in to His plan, His path.
I give in to His control and stopped grasping for my own.
I give in to the truth as it presents itself.
I give in to the understanding that I will not and cannot understand
And must just continue as He sees fit for me to continue.
I give in to acceptance, love, belief, trust.
I give in to the Lord, because that is what I have.
I am no saint, this is not a simple task.
It is hard to let go when you are accustomed to fighting everything.
It is a battle against my own willfulness
but in the end, after 40 days, When Jesus dies and is resurrected once more..
this is still who I am.
No temporary inconvenience, but a lifelong gratitude.

Wrath.

“Wrath is cruel, anger is overwhelming,
but who is able to stand before jealousy?”
-Proverbs 27:4

It’s a room, it’s a darkness,
It’s a struggle.
Everything within me rails against
The betraying reality of what
I cannot control, cannot fix,
Cannot destroy and cannot release.
So consumed with anger,
Bathed in hatred…
Wrath, my friend, we travel hard side by side
All too often.. all to near.
What can I do?

It is a sin to be wrathful,
It is a sin to have your heart
So devoured by the destruction of anger.
But I am a child of God,
Made in his own image.
Why would he give me such rights?
The way I see it Wrath belongs to God,
He wears it wisely and hands it out accordingly..
Why let it settle itself so snugly under
My skin knowing I cannot resist it..
What it produces in these times
Is all I have left to survive on.
Am I such a sinner?
Am I such a sin?

No,
Its not quite that easy.
I want it to be, I want to be angry and
Powerful.
I want to tear flesh from bone
And bears my teeth in laughter
I want so much to be without anything
But this delicious hatred of all things.
But that’s not it.
That’s not what feeds the fires…

I have loved once,
Lead so deeply astray by it, blinded so willingly.
I gave into the warmth and peace of it.

Oh, what fools these mortals be!

Now, love has no home in my heart.
It is in that void, that cancerous hole,
That wrath breeds..
Shakes loose it’s wings
And begins its flight.. scraping claws through
All pain..
All devastation.
Resurrecting the dead that lay in my battlefield
Every wound blazing anew
Every loss consuming the light..
How could you? How could this be?

So we weep newly, we bleed newly,
Screaming and beating fists against our
Chests..
These ghost soldiers of mine..
These bleeding wrecks of pain!
Can there be no rest??
Is this God’s love? Is this hell what I am
To trust and believe in?
Fires that burn cold, infections in the soul
That I cannot even hope to heal?

Wrath, you winged beast of destruction,
Is there no other way to embrace this pain..
No other way to love.

The sad truth..
As I deem myself unworthy,
As I call God down from his throne..
As I find myself growing distant and cold…..
The sad truth?

“For the wages of sin is death...”

and mine cannot come swift enough……

Maybe the greatest lie we deign to tell ourselves is that
We are not alone.
We are a community, all the same at the core.
We want the good to prevail, the bad to leave us in peace.
We walk our paths hand in hand with each other
Into the sun, into grace, into whatever we think awaits us.
I think God puts on the porch light
And waits quietly at the end for each of us,
Watching that journey as we fall apart and pick up
And walk tripping and sobbing to the end where we collapse
On the steps so glad to have made it after so much
Pain and disturbance.
Our troubled souls gasping for air
And our knees scraped and bleeding…
What we find at that point is not that we have made it there
Together.. hand in hand..
Dreams in our head still intact
We are laying down our sorrow and picking up
Our guns of righteous truths and pointing them
At the first sign of movement coming up from behind.
We’ve just been there and we don’t want to share this
Grace with anyone unless they can fight it from
Our hands and collect it for their own.
We tumble into grace alone, feeble and drained from
The road and no longer reaching for each other.
Life isn’t kind.

This has nothing to do with God.
Nothing to do with our ability to be faithful to Him
To ourselves or to each other,
It’s what we have been made to live
Here on this earth.
Every man for himself
Everyone a powerful outcast.
The path is narrow and our hearts secluded.
Everyone knows the right way to get there
And no one can agree.

I won’t trouble you if you won’t trouble me.

When the door to God’s house is wrenched
Open by our scar knuckle hands
We stare at His face and our fears
Troubles
Anger
Blasphemies
They color our skin and slide
Free from our tongues.
The truth is not that hard to imagine.
God loves no matter what..
Feel free to speak your mind, defend your stance
Scream your pain
Tell him how unfair it was
Speak the doubts you dared
He’ll never cast you out, who else can you
Turn to after everyone you’ve ever known
Has turned away from you,
Powerful outcast?
There will be no judgment, redemption.
He resents nothing and you know no need
To be forgiven.

Sit by the fire, he will always let you in.

Silence is his way of letting you work it out
Rocking in your chair staring
Into the red orange white of fire’s promises
Brambles in your hair and dirt on your face
He will ask you after a time what you thought
Of the world while you were here.

You’ll say it was unfair, cold, hurtful.
You’ll say you loved it with all of your heart.

He’ll ask you what you thought of the people
You encountered on your path?

You’ll say they broke you, abandoned and tortured.
You’ll say you miss them with all of your heart.

He’ll ask you why you came alone.

You’ll say no one stayed by your side. No one.
You’ll say you are tired of all these tears.

He’ll ask you follow when you can.

You’ll sit by the fire all alone, crying the bitter tears
You never thought you’d know again.

Until the door opens and the next one tumbles in and
Sees in you the God they’ve been seeking
On their path.
My God is a man, clean and quiet.
a calm eye to my storm.
He is not anything like me
this is why I know him
don't fear him.
I don't care for anything else.

We are each the powerful outcast, each the seeker,
Each the God the other needs to understand them.
we need someone who listens
Stands by our side
Someone who chooses us above everyone else.


Come to me, before I get so lost
That all I have is to call it the end.

The definition of defeat: an epic on the epic

I am the vessel by which your God
May or may not speak
I strike a chord with what you feel
And I look a lot like the faith
You wanted to abandon when
It fled from you the first time
But here I stand with my arms
Outstretched awaiting your
Confirmation that I am
Everything you have waited for
In that I am the vessel by which
Your God is willing to teach.

I am the foundation
strong and stable
by which your God may or may not
hold you up when the time
comes for everyone else to
knock you down again and
again but I will catch
your fall
as the landing is never
what you think through
all the broken bones
and white lights
But here I am beneath your feet
Like an animal
Pleading to your good senses
For a moment of your attention
In that I am all that
holds you up by which you God
will defend us all

I am the vision, the Holy Chalice,
The dream of a better world by which
Your God may or may not lead
You to embrace a broken idea
In a world bleeding all over the pavement
At the end of your throne
Turning to dust the wicked and
Exalting the righteous
As the street walkers and preachers
Unite in an understanding that
With so many dangers in this place
We are all there really needs to be
Like a brethren of bastard saints
We are
We are
I am reaching through the
Clouds to welcome the reigning glory
Of the vision that has become
Your chance to be that by which
Your God entrusts no doom.

I am the angel, voice of reason
By which your God may or may
Not tear the sin from your bones
And gentle you into submission
That corrects the painful position
Your soul has crushed itself into
And from that moment I know
You will become my only known
Confidante and I will never fail
To direct you to the right blood and
True believers that walk
The gutters beside the enchantment
Of gold lit Boulevards and the
Out of touch trophy sinners
Who fear to trust
Their own life to what it is I
Can command
With the voice by which your
God may bring about
The kingdom of his word.

I am the letter of the law by
Which your God may or may not
Forgive you against all the
Odds that you have set up
Like a wall to protect you from
Salvation in the name of any
Of the dangerously misled
Believing them when they
Dissect my intentions to turn you
Into the evils of the world
When it is I who have spoken
To you in the dark of night to
Remind you that no man can
Make a mockery of me as I am
The words, the truths, the monster
That the righteous wrongs still fear
As they hide beneath my covers
Making strange bedfellows of me
When I am not their defender
Because I seek you
I just want to use you
To my ends in the way
By which your God may
Forgive us all one day.

I am the savior
The grace by which your God may
Or may not open upon the
World as a whole to entreaty the
Damned to my arms in this
faced against
Defined holiness and into the
Ocean of everlasting
Where I can promise you with
Each step I take I will
begin to drown with you
as I am and always will be the same
as the childless mothers, the loveless
lovers, the broken, beaten and dysphoric
Please stop for a moment
And look into my eyes and know that I
Am not here to destroy you
Hands outreached to carry you with me
Back to the place we belong
Back home to the place where it all began
I am your God by which I may
Welcome you into my home
And invite you to stay
Because you are mine
And it is you that I love
No matter who you are afraid you might
Really be.

The Judas Factor

Foresight is knowing something is going to happen
Before it actually occurs.
Most anyone can obtain foresight from logical
Means of deduction when they put their minds to
It, we usually have all the information but
No desire to exact a conclusion.

Not all foresight wear this cloak of humanity
Some foresight is simply there.
When you “had the feeling” that would happen,
Dreamt that it had happened, sensed it was to happen.
Some foresight is unseen and unheard,
feeling powerful enough
To be as it is.

God given.

It is inside the disappointing shell of foresight
That I sit tonight. Watching from my knowing
Tower over the incidents that I predicted without
Reason. The buying and selling of trust
In the Judas market of everyday life.

I have always respected Judas, understood him to
Be the one biblical character who could be anyone of us.
The one who made the largest errors
And the fastest judgments in order to obtain the
Sanity of one who protects his interests first.
The beauty of the betrayal of Jesus is
That it was done by one who loved him so
Intimately.
Through that love he managed to betray him
To his death so swiftly.
But would you, upon reading of his betrayal
Turn away so quickly from the court of Judas?
You stood in his corner for so long through so many
Pages of devotion and trust,
Would you turn so easily? Condemn so surely?
How quickly we all become Judas, don’t you think?

The truth is that we are living in a world so filled with
Fear to protect ourselves from everyone else that we find ourselves
In a cycle of love and betrayal, hand in hand.
The more we love you, the more we betray you.
The more you trust us, the deeper the knife in the back will sink.
It is only through that betrayal that those of us
Suffering the wounds, those of us kissed before the eyes of
Our enemies can stop the cycle.

DO as Jesus did.
DO as he believed.

Forgive your betrayer, learn to love them still.
Easier said than done,

Today I will learn to forgive and embrace my betrayer.
Knowing that I once loved Judas, knowing the Jesus always loved Judas.
Sell me out for a few coins of silver and gold
And I kneel down and forgive you your humanity still.

Do not live in anger and hurt.
I will not live in anger and hurt.
‘so tonight that I might see’

that’s all I can say for now,

Trust: The God Complex

Faith is a harsh mistress.
You cannot have her some of the time without taking her along for the
Ride all of the time.
She will not release you to your own devices
Once she has trapped you into hers.
Faith doesn’t let you go, no matter how you try to shake her
And for this reason alone…
We often choose to not get involved at all.
A fear of commitment in the light of being saved.
I am no different, often I am disgustingly the same
As so many other jaded followers of Christ
We want to be there with you, we want to trust in
The word and give in to God..
But we want you to do it first so we can see how it worked out
Because let’s say it doesn’t work out….
Well, we haven’t given in yet so we can back
Out with little to no dirt on our shoes.
No worse for the wear if you don’t count the holes
In the soles… souls?

I’m afraid so. Souls it is.
I struggle with this trust,
This faith.
So blindly we follow and so easily
We are lead.
So it should be easy, so it should be so.
How can it be?
We are raised to be mistrustful of anything that looks
Easy.
We are not to become
‘living room sheep’ to the call of
the Jesus machine.
The word cult springs up more often than
The word belief.
The Bible trapped in the drawer of motels and hotels
Across the United States is used less frequently
Than the phone book by which we try to find
The tangible in the way of escort services,
Bars and clubs in which to dance and drink until
We are left clutching the porcelain God as we make
Promises to never drink that much again.

But we don’t want to admit that we make those
Empty and often cracked promise to God.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again.”
We say that, I say that.
But when the promise is made I am never making it with me,
I am making it with the God I am scared to give all of myself too.
Funny isn’t it?
I become God with my words, but to myself I have never been true
And loyalty, because to God I am faith whore.
Borrowing my belief when I am scared to admit it
And claim it as my own.

Don’t misunderstand me, I do believe.
I am not saying it’s not true or real.. it is as real as my
Own flesh and blood is real
It is the willingness to claim it and walk around with it
Inside myself.
Holding back to watch it work for others
Before I trust it will work for me.
Afraid that total faith makes me crazy.
The pledge to resistance so many of us make
Fails to specifiy what we are resisting and so..
We resist everything.

Trust no one.
Trust me.
I know what I’m talking about.

It’s okay to laugh.
Because that’s funny, it’s what I was taught.
It is the truth that was set into the foundation that
I built myself on top of and I sit on my throne
At the top of this crumbling foundation with
My eyes wide open waiting for the answers
To everyone elses problems to prove to me
That I can take my own to the sacred place
Of God’s trust in me.

Jesus can lead me to water but he cannot make me drink.
And so I sit by the water’s edge with the empty cup in my
Hand waiting for someone to pass by so that I might watch them
Drink from the river of faith and I reach my hand out and
Beg of them
“might you get me a cup of water from the river?”
borrowing their faith because I fear my own.

I grapple with this today because for the first time in 30 years of life
The man at the river said
“no, you must get your own or die of thirst.”

Viva la resistance….
If only now I begin to understand that the resistance
Is not to faith but to doubt.

Step one, admitting I am a problem.