I know you don’t come as easy as some but I will watch and pray.
The thoughts in my mind and the feelings in my eyes have swayed and swayed.
All the while beside me your presence has stayed.
Your body broke for me, your blood flowed for me.
I lift my being up to you, and we are in harmony.
Yet the sacrifice breathes and on my own, has tried to be free.
You walked on the water and I am being tossed by the waves.
My eyes see well the absence of what is humble and brave.
Can they see well your eyes from which this world will be saved?
I look into your eyes again and I see many a crimson string.
From whence come the melodies of your reconciling.
And I did not think the sound could cause such a stirring.
My mind thinks and my eyes know that you are worth everything.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
to frustrate or not to frustrate... too late
I see myself, laughing, dancing, making music and praise
My Jejus dwelling amidst this joyous parade; spirit caught up in our hands that are raised.
I see myself with the Body and I am ecstatic, I am heavenly.
And I see myself in the depths of discontent, of hatred for this world.
I feel the burning heat of righteous anger over unjust activities, over unjust foundations built into tall powerful empires.
I see myself as David, facing not a giant, but a structure forged and administrated by a committee of Goliaths.
It feels as though I am the only one who sees,
Why do I feel the way I do?
Why does the Maker of sarah, reveal to me not only the historical facts of injustice, but the feeling of deep and piercing grief over such ramifications?
For no other reason than to feel intensely sorry?
Remember that there is a reason… this radical compassion surely is not futile.
I am sure that futility is not in your character, but I AM WEARY!
What would you have me do? I would desire that you take this compassion and mold it into a solid and active force within me.
Or have you already?
I see the armor that doesn’t fit me, I see the small stones by the brook,
Ah, and I see the sling that I dismissed this morning, as I do every morning.
To be honest, at times I utterly despise it.
Can heavenly praise and earthly battles dwell simultaneously?
Because they do within me.
Is frustration a swell word to ascribe to this soliloquy?
Please refrain from advising the following: don't let things frustrate you.
As if to say, Jesus don't let those money-changers in the temple anger you!
but please refrain from ceasing to bring to my memory
of the splendor of his words, his works, his life, his light.
His anger lasts a moment, and His favor lasts a lifetime.
So I'm allowed to dance and praise all of this, my lifetime.
And for the moment, I reach down to pick up my sling.
My Jejus dwelling amidst this joyous parade; spirit caught up in our hands that are raised.
I see myself with the Body and I am ecstatic, I am heavenly.
And I see myself in the depths of discontent, of hatred for this world.
I feel the burning heat of righteous anger over unjust activities, over unjust foundations built into tall powerful empires.
I see myself as David, facing not a giant, but a structure forged and administrated by a committee of Goliaths.
It feels as though I am the only one who sees,
Why do I feel the way I do?
Why does the Maker of sarah, reveal to me not only the historical facts of injustice, but the feeling of deep and piercing grief over such ramifications?
For no other reason than to feel intensely sorry?
Remember that there is a reason… this radical compassion surely is not futile.
I am sure that futility is not in your character, but I AM WEARY!
What would you have me do? I would desire that you take this compassion and mold it into a solid and active force within me.
Or have you already?
I see the armor that doesn’t fit me, I see the small stones by the brook,
Ah, and I see the sling that I dismissed this morning, as I do every morning.
To be honest, at times I utterly despise it.
Can heavenly praise and earthly battles dwell simultaneously?
Because they do within me.
Is frustration a swell word to ascribe to this soliloquy?
Please refrain from advising the following: don't let things frustrate you.
As if to say, Jesus don't let those money-changers in the temple anger you!
but please refrain from ceasing to bring to my memory
of the splendor of his words, his works, his life, his light.
His anger lasts a moment, and His favor lasts a lifetime.
So I'm allowed to dance and praise all of this, my lifetime.
And for the moment, I reach down to pick up my sling.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
ode to toe [oh so pro-sozo]
Jesus healed my toe... & this small act of love has touched my heart, a warm poke. I thought of my toe and how because of it's problem, my foot felt so disgusting before. But my feet follow Jesus, shod with the good news. They're beautiful.
beautiful feet,
toe complete,
when we meet,
with thanksgiving i'll greet,
You transform the obsolete,
and say "have a seat!"
And the fruit baskets replete
Ma lips red like a beet
Bread that fills & wine surpassingly sweet
the very pores of human flesh, divinely secrete,
From the top of Your head to the soles of Your feet.
Before
I like these "shoes"
beautiful feet,
toe complete,
when we meet,
with thanksgiving i'll greet,
You transform the obsolete,
and say "have a seat!"
And the fruit baskets replete
Ma lips red like a beet
Bread that fills & wine surpassingly sweet
the very pores of human flesh, divinely secrete,
From the top of Your head to the soles of Your feet.
Before
I like these "shoes"
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Murmur
Jesus, You the cry of my heart,
Have felt more like a murmur these days.
What used to be the strongest, greatest beat and rhythm… the loudest ker-thump,
Wildly, unstoppably beating at the mention or thought of You
Oh, to hear of Your splendor and wonder, the greatness of You God!
Your kingdom, and the power and justice and mercy thereof, sending shivers down my spine.
Who You were. Who You are.
The kindness and the humility, melted away any offense or bitterness, that like concrete would try to seep in and harden this heart of flesh.
The excitement in my body, upon the rising of the sun, giving the new day a great giant bear-hug
What used to be…
Now, thoughts of longing, desires of wanting somebody to love have made their way
Made a home really, with a comfortable recliner and fireplace…
Musings of a life lived with no strings attached, all for me.
On a delightful quest to find or create my own self, I will do life freely and authentically
Yes this is the life for me!
So let’s play a game, and pretend that I came to be the optimal edition I could…
I created a nice personality for myself, and of course the wonderful people I have met.
They always love me, because how else could they be wonderful unless they were authentic?
And how else could they be authentic lest they recognize my authenticity?
We are kindred spirits, yes, I could tell from the moment I extend my hand in greeting
& thankfully I don’t feel any strings.
I fall, or float or plunge or flunge, deeply and surprisingly quickly, in love with someone who is for sure worthy of my affections,
Fulfiller of dreams, i.e. the check to every box on my good-qualities-to-look-for-g’day-mate list
The only problem is, this list grows so quickly…
& this edition reaches its limit, because it is their nature to be limited.
And then I feel it: the mur- mur
Murmur, unquestionably… the proof of a cardiovascular movement, signs of flesh,
Certainty of the blood… and nothing but.
Heart. Meant to so much more than murmur…
To beat wildly or steadily, or both
To strain, to ache, to open
To scream, to laugh joyously
But never to be placed upon the mantle atop of that fireplace, or wrapped in gift-paper, sitting upon a lap resting in that recliner.
Never to be used for the purposes of fear, but for those of perfect love
Which calls for suffering and brokenness and aching,
Answered by refining fire, restoration, reconciliation,
Redemption… better than perfection, the message from Your heart.
And my heart?
It wish-washes from time to time, who can understand it?
And after this pretend edition comes to pass, the only thing I will understand…
My heart desires one thing above all others.
Elohim! Abba, Holy Spirit, Jesus!
Murmur leaps to ker-thumping, the fullness of desire.
For I want so many things, but truth: You are everything I want.
But to be honest, I do not always sincerely want You, Jesus…
I want other things, so many other things, and the tendancy is that this list grows quickly.
I am only being sincere, but truth: You are everything I want!
And didn’t I know that I need You? and didn’t I know that You want me?
And doesn’t this heart forget so easily?… wish wash
And don’t you delight in telling me, over and over and over and over and over and over and over…
Again?
Hmmm, You don’t mind. We have all eternity.
Jesus.
And the mention of Your name, the coming of Your kingdom, the glory of You and Your face…
And the murmur, lukewarm and timid, cries out with passion and conviction:
You are everything I want!
Let the fire break forth from its place, and consume this house.
What used to be the strongest, greatest beat and rhythm… the loudest ker-thump,
Wildly, unstoppably beating at the mention or thought of You
Oh, to hear of Your splendor and wonder, the greatness of You God!
Your kingdom, and the power and justice and mercy thereof, sending shivers down my spine.
Who You were. Who You are.
The kindness and the humility, melted away any offense or bitterness, that like concrete would try to seep in and harden this heart of flesh.
The excitement in my body, upon the rising of the sun, giving the new day a great giant bear-hug
What used to be…
Now, thoughts of longing, desires of wanting somebody to love have made their way
Made a home really, with a comfortable recliner and fireplace…
Musings of a life lived with no strings attached, all for me.
On a delightful quest to find or create my own self, I will do life freely and authentically
Yes this is the life for me!
So let’s play a game, and pretend that I came to be the optimal edition I could…
I created a nice personality for myself, and of course the wonderful people I have met.
They always love me, because how else could they be wonderful unless they were authentic?
And how else could they be authentic lest they recognize my authenticity?
We are kindred spirits, yes, I could tell from the moment I extend my hand in greeting
& thankfully I don’t feel any strings.
I fall, or float or plunge or flunge, deeply and surprisingly quickly, in love with someone who is for sure worthy of my affections,
Fulfiller of dreams, i.e. the check to every box on my good-qualities-to-look-for-g’day-mate list
The only problem is, this list grows so quickly…
& this edition reaches its limit, because it is their nature to be limited.
And then I feel it: the mur- mur
Murmur, unquestionably… the proof of a cardiovascular movement, signs of flesh,
Certainty of the blood… and nothing but.
Heart. Meant to so much more than murmur…
To beat wildly or steadily, or both
To strain, to ache, to open
To scream, to laugh joyously
But never to be placed upon the mantle atop of that fireplace, or wrapped in gift-paper, sitting upon a lap resting in that recliner.
Never to be used for the purposes of fear, but for those of perfect love
Which calls for suffering and brokenness and aching,
Answered by refining fire, restoration, reconciliation,
Redemption… better than perfection, the message from Your heart.
And my heart?
It wish-washes from time to time, who can understand it?
And after this pretend edition comes to pass, the only thing I will understand…
My heart desires one thing above all others.
Elohim! Abba, Holy Spirit, Jesus!
Murmur leaps to ker-thumping, the fullness of desire.
For I want so many things, but truth: You are everything I want.
But to be honest, I do not always sincerely want You, Jesus…
I want other things, so many other things, and the tendancy is that this list grows quickly.
I am only being sincere, but truth: You are everything I want!
And didn’t I know that I need You? and didn’t I know that You want me?
And doesn’t this heart forget so easily?… wish wash
And don’t you delight in telling me, over and over and over and over and over and over and over…
Again?
Hmmm, You don’t mind. We have all eternity.
Jesus.
And the mention of Your name, the coming of Your kingdom, the glory of You and Your face…
And the murmur, lukewarm and timid, cries out with passion and conviction:
You are everything I want!
Let the fire break forth from its place, and consume this house.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Intransitive
Sitting in church, I was this Sunday, like so many Sundays of my life. The message was about spiritual warfare, however I wasn’t paying attention really. I was in my own head, letting the Holy Spirit speak to me and writing it down accordingly, with some additional illustrations. Towards the end of the sermon, I happened to listen when the speaker told an account of his six-year old son, weeping to the song “How He Loves.” His heart was grieved at the reality of Jesus dying and suffering for humankind. It reminded me of myself, as a little five-year old girl watching an animated video-cassette titled He Is Risen. I too was struck with grief and so disturbed that Jesus had to die.
So while there in my seat, I closed my eyes and recalled my favorite part of that movie and probably one of my favorite accounts in the Bible. It takes place Jesus is alive, after having conquered death. The disciples are fishing. Fishing, like they had always been doing, before the Son of God called them to follow. Fishing, like the average Joes that they were. And then on the shore stands Jesus, telling them to cast their nets on the other side, knowing the large catch that awaited. I could imagine that He was eager for them to catch the fish and eat breakfast, eager to be with them.
And then I too was there with the disciples, heading for the shore where Jesus stood, waiting to eat with us. And as we got off the boat, He was so glad to see us, taking our hands, clinging to us in a warm embrace. I could see myself and my friends meeting with Jesus and having breakfast with Him. The affection in His eyes and mannerisms spoke of a pure love, that makes the spirit come alive. It’s the thing that all men and women yearn for. I saw this and tears streamed down my face. What feeling or ideology or iron will could succeed in persuading a human being to reject this Man’s presence, if they could be partakers of this meal?
I saw that others came to join this gathering. These others were people I knew, people in my life who I personally do not care to love or even attempt to love. People, who one minute I ask for the supernatural strength to love and the next minute deem unworthy of any compassion or mercy. People to whom my heart has grown embittered and to my chagrin, I have cursed with my own words.
This fig doesn’t belong, does it James?
These, whose specific names I will not mention, were welcomed by Jesus. Most affectionately and unreservedly. He saw them, welcomed them, accepted them, simultaneously. In being with Jesus, are there no steps or stages? No. He loves us first. And so I submit. Compassion, like the scent of freshly-baked bread, filled me up to the brim. I wept and wept…because Jesus loves them. And He gives me no other option but to do the same! HOW can I not?
Still sitting in the cushioned sanctuary seat, behind the veil of my own eyelids, I beheld a picture of something sweet and simple. I don’t quite know how to describe it. Simply put, I think it was a picture of Abiding. Abiding, like we see in the sparrow, the lily, the baby breathing, the branch extending. Abiding, as in a transitive verb: a verb that does not take an object. An action to which we can never add by our own doing, no matter how terribly we may desire to. We cannot muster up our own compassion. We humans must view the perfect love in the face of God Himself: a humble Man. And there we abide, and there let it overflow... And from there? We make those intransitive verbs so difficult sometimes.
I opened my eyes, which were puffy and red, to the sound of voices raised in singing.
I am fond of this kind of Abiding.
It would be nice to eat spaghetti with Jesus.
So while there in my seat, I closed my eyes and recalled my favorite part of that movie and probably one of my favorite accounts in the Bible. It takes place Jesus is alive, after having conquered death. The disciples are fishing. Fishing, like they had always been doing, before the Son of God called them to follow. Fishing, like the average Joes that they were. And then on the shore stands Jesus, telling them to cast their nets on the other side, knowing the large catch that awaited. I could imagine that He was eager for them to catch the fish and eat breakfast, eager to be with them.
And then I too was there with the disciples, heading for the shore where Jesus stood, waiting to eat with us. And as we got off the boat, He was so glad to see us, taking our hands, clinging to us in a warm embrace. I could see myself and my friends meeting with Jesus and having breakfast with Him. The affection in His eyes and mannerisms spoke of a pure love, that makes the spirit come alive. It’s the thing that all men and women yearn for. I saw this and tears streamed down my face. What feeling or ideology or iron will could succeed in persuading a human being to reject this Man’s presence, if they could be partakers of this meal?
I saw that others came to join this gathering. These others were people I knew, people in my life who I personally do not care to love or even attempt to love. People, who one minute I ask for the supernatural strength to love and the next minute deem unworthy of any compassion or mercy. People to whom my heart has grown embittered and to my chagrin, I have cursed with my own words.
This fig doesn’t belong, does it James?
These, whose specific names I will not mention, were welcomed by Jesus. Most affectionately and unreservedly. He saw them, welcomed them, accepted them, simultaneously. In being with Jesus, are there no steps or stages? No. He loves us first. And so I submit. Compassion, like the scent of freshly-baked bread, filled me up to the brim. I wept and wept…because Jesus loves them. And He gives me no other option but to do the same! HOW can I not?
Still sitting in the cushioned sanctuary seat, behind the veil of my own eyelids, I beheld a picture of something sweet and simple. I don’t quite know how to describe it. Simply put, I think it was a picture of Abiding. Abiding, like we see in the sparrow, the lily, the baby breathing, the branch extending. Abiding, as in a transitive verb: a verb that does not take an object. An action to which we can never add by our own doing, no matter how terribly we may desire to. We cannot muster up our own compassion. We humans must view the perfect love in the face of God Himself: a humble Man. And there we abide, and there let it overflow... And from there? We make those intransitive verbs so difficult sometimes.
I opened my eyes, which were puffy and red, to the sound of voices raised in singing.
I am fond of this kind of Abiding.
It would be nice to eat spaghetti with Jesus.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Freshmen Need Bread
I would have liked this post to serve as a nice scrapbook entry for my freshman year, however it would be far too long and I lack the patience. Way too many memories and thoughts. I suppose it's my fault for not blogging regularly (working on that).
How can I sum up this year including all that I've seen and all of the beautiful people who have touched my life, and all that the Holy Spirit has showed me? I cannot...
Let's just say, that once upon a time during freshman year I was praying
and I asked God to humble me...
Friendship, such a sweet word.
Neither nomadic nor burdensome... & absolutely necessary.
Not a means for entertainment...
Friends are together
happy or sad
funny or mad
encouraging or sarcastic
gross or lovely
oderized or deoderized
wet or dry
weepy or weepy
offensive or complimenting
There they are
amigos y amigas
better together
Holy-Spirit Breathed Community
I desire that humankind strive for this & fight for this
spiritual independence is steeped in pride
I formerly desired this... now I want no part of it.
"Where two or three are gathered..." This makes me happy!!!
I love the Head, & I am continuing to fully love the Body.
Christ in you (as in USTEDES), the hope of glory.
Together we're glory.
Academia
Having to Q-drop a class is no fun.
There are intelligent people at UT, much more than me.
I will have better reasons for going to office hours in the future.
I hope to never ever again fall asleep and have weird dreams about hillsong during a final.
He knows better than I... and I know so little about a great many things: body, Bride, contentment, unconditional love, rejoicing always, counting it as rubbish, and on and on.
But the closer I get, the bigger and deeper He becomes, and the more I realize the grace and the more I am humbled.
Like Isaiah I am in awe. And like Moses on the mountain-top, I desire more.
This is all I will share. It will suffice for the present.
Pics are always better=D
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Don't read this...
Doh! I have not posted in practically a year.
It's coming. You won't know when & I will know how, but it is coming.
I don't even know where to begin...
It's coming.
What's coming you ask?
Hmmm, perhaps that point of nostalgia that is not so pointless.
When, upon looking back at memories and experiences, one sees the significance and the goodness of God. (He's amazing)
Sometimes I am cognizant of these here life moralities whilst in the groove...
And at other times they do not hit me until later, when I'm sitting under a tree
Or when I'm driving in the car, and all of a sudden, "puh pah poh" a dozen hacky sack AHA moments hit me.
Well I see many opportunities for sitting under trees and for driving in cars coming my way... Oh, I told you the how... now can you tell me the when?
It is coming.
It's coming. You won't know when & I will know how, but it is coming.
I don't even know where to begin...
It's coming.
What's coming you ask?
Hmmm, perhaps that point of nostalgia that is not so pointless.
When, upon looking back at memories and experiences, one sees the significance and the goodness of God. (He's amazing)
Sometimes I am cognizant of these here life moralities whilst in the groove...
And at other times they do not hit me until later, when I'm sitting under a tree
Or when I'm driving in the car, and all of a sudden, "puh pah poh" a dozen hacky sack AHA moments hit me.
Well I see many opportunities for sitting under trees and for driving in cars coming my way... Oh, I told you the how... now can you tell me the when?
It is coming.
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