Friday, November 5, 2021

Echoes of Genesis Three

Image by klbz from Pixabay.

Our Maker determined that we should be
able to choose

Built with a will to select either the warmth and peace and providence of
perfect Presence
Or to choose to lean into the curiosity of
the other
and for that bend to bleed and to weep
to face futility and heart wars
and to be cast out.

He built us with this blessed choice mechanism
by His own choice
and I must assume the Almighty Creator was bound by no
outside requirement to do so

He gave us ears tuned to receive all the voices
not just His own
Crafted eyes that are able to take in
even the beauty of poisonous things 
things not meant for our frail consumption
Engineered minds that can step outside the curtain of
His proven faithfulness and love
to wonder wanderingly,
“did He really say . . .?”

So I have questions

Questions that swim all around “why”
Because even now in this moment
I am able to use those heaven-ordained faculties to
choose to consider “why did He do that?”

Is it sin to think such?

Because here we are
the progeny of the first chasm created
continuing to choose the divide
Still hiding among trees
having again discovered a new layer of shame and regret
of dirtiness

And the eternal Eyes see and saw it all

Yes, Sovereignty is a certain thing
It’s a thing my heart grasps only with slippery fingers
and yet I do believe that “it is good”
Even today, He calls to me from beyond questions
and I hear the Spirit’s hovering whisper
beckoning us all
like He did in ages gone
with a plan already shaped and
as from the brink of eternity’s shore
through nails and sweat and sacred blood
He chooses again and again and forevermore to reach out
asking for an answer He already knows:
“where are you?”


Thursday, October 7, 2021

Again. - a Poem, a Plea

How do you talk yourself into trying again?

Whether to make a friend
Or to trust in love
Or to sketch out the perfect landscape
Or to blanket a blank page with your brilliant nonsense


How do you will such bravery to be?

When the mirror mocks you
When time *tsks* its taunting finger in your face
When you have grown admittedly lazy and
The sparkling silver shows not your wisdom but your weakness, your weariness


How can you talk yourself back out onto the ledge?

To remember once more how to fully forget yourself
To stop overthinking and leap again into that fantastical unknown
To dare to believe that flight could be possible this time around
That this landing might actually stick and grow deep roots and bear sweet fruit


How do you shut down and shut up the patterns of the past?

And do away with the demons that tripped up your progress
And close your eyes tight enough to not notice the ghosts hovering
And hold in a big breath with your chest punched high
To then finally exhale all the years and scars and every sly thing that has pressed STOP


How do you muster the madness to try it again?

Thursday, September 2, 2021

Rest & Work -- A Poem (sort of)

 . . . free writing is a messy freedom. Here we go . . .

I said again that I would wait to create until
after a little rest
A little closing of the eyes and folding of the hands
because I am always sure that
once my mind has been refreshed and my eyes
open wider to truth, unincumbered
then I could get to the work
But suddenly the day’s currency is spent
like each day before
and this soul slips haphazardly into easy Spectacle and flighty Flavor -
Distraction and Disillusionment then come to pay ready penance
A reminder that, frankly, the work seems too hard on a tired, old soul
And refreshment too, too far away
I hardly notice that the hours in waterfall rush me toward forever’s sea
But I do wonder if perhaps feeling fresh is more
about going to The Well than mustering
More opening up and less closing the deal
So before my mind has remembered
the villainous cast of naysayers swimming frantically inside
“Quick, now, before they steal control!
Move, child!”
Yes, I’ll Insist that Weariness take a seat there next to Anxiety and
I’ll busy Self-Absorption on some fool’s errand
and leave them and the others behind and close the door hard
Then go to another mental room taking only Wonder with me
I’ll be sure to check under the desk
where Apprehension is prone to lie in wait, salivating
He's there - shun him
If Doubt shows his face, I won’t send him away, but I’ll use him up
Let him watch what happens next
Because Wonder is holy and patient and will stay and will deliver
See, I have rested too long
And the work won’t wait
Eternity won’t wait
My mind is only aging and my bones growing gray
More so and more so every blessed day
So this little life, I’ll use it up
On beauty and truth and God’s calling
Rest comes later and forever