Hearts (A Poem)

Completely knowing is a string

Of gold running

From head to chest, tying

Intellect to soul, bringing

A heart to its knees.

In the bursting of the

Strongest heart,

We know, undoubtedly, God is

Good.

In the resuscitation of the

Purest heart,

We know, wondrously, God is

Great.

Let us thank Him

For that Heart

That died and lives again,

That we may also.

Listen (An Acrostic)

Little stars stand out

In tangable-boundless inky

Skies. Is this

To remind us no whisper is too small to

Escape His notice? Or to show how others

Notice when we choose the supernatural?

****NOTE: Lenten days are traditionally not counted on Sundays during the season. But I have chosen to include a piece of word art every day. Therefore, my series will continue through Easter Sunday and include more than 40 days. Stay tuned.

🙂

Only (An Acrostic)

Open wide my soul and bring

Now to light what only You,

Love, have always known — and

Yet, You have embraced me still. I dance.

Distant Until (A poem based on Exodus 20:18-21)

The Law ferrets me out

In pain, in aching insufficiency, in fear,

Until the panic in my body is worse than the clamor before me,

Around me:

Heartbeats pounding in my ears, syncopated against thunder rumbles

From a great Judge I can’t see

Because my eyes are closed against the flashing that would blind me.

But what if He desires

That I see Him heartfully? What if He wants

Me to fear Him

Yet not be afraid?

What if He wants me

Near

For a moment,

For a lifetime,

And forever?

If I, too, would climb up,

Entering smoke and mist, what would

Await me

On the mountain?

Perhaps the understanding that I am

Known, patiently,

By the One Who has more chapters yet to write.

A Poem: Known and Free

I AM the One who knows:

Each vice that holds you in its grip,

Each lie that strikes you like a whip,

Each weakness of your foe.

I AM the One who knows:

Each time your heart seeks better things,

Each moment you turn back to Me,

Each higher place you’ll go.

So I have been,

So I will be:

The Knowing One

Who sets you free.

I recently heard a very challenging sermon given at my church, by guest speaker Caleb Kaltenbach, entitled: From “Grace OR Truth” to “Grace AND Truth.” (You can find the file to watch/download at calvary.ch if you are interested.) After listening and reflecting on some of my own life experiences, I was inspired to write a poem.

And I think sharing it today would be a great way to wrap up this month of posts about loving others. For Jesus showed by example that anyone who would follow Him must love as He loved (and still loves).

That’s relatively easy to do when we’re loving someone who we trust or who shares our interests or who is nice or who puts/keeps us in a good mood or who will do something wonderful for us. But it’s pretty stinkin’ hard to love someone who doesn’t like us or who has views opposite our own or who knows how to push our buttons or who hurts us with their words/actions or who always brings some inconvenience into our lives.

Yet the second group, those are the ones we are especially called to love, and who arguably need love the most. In fact, if we are honest, we’ll admit we have certainly been in that second group for someone else–and perhaps we still are.

As Caleb said, it’s not easy, but real “love is the tension of grace and truth.” So the next time you’re having a hard time loving someone, perhaps you can join me in this practice: envision yourself inviting them to meet you on a bridge where the tension of those two all-important virtues spans a chasm of hate and divisiveness.

The Bridge

(John 1:4, John 10:10, Psalm 36:9, 2 Corinthians 5:20-21, Psalm 2:11-12, 1 Timothy 6:18-19)

Hello, it’s me, the one who refuses to give up,
the one reaching out an imperfect hand,
who wants to forgive and start speaking again.

I love you enough to want your best
even when your best is the harder choice.
I pray you’ll hear that love shine through
where truth and grace meet in my voice.

You were meant for something far greater than this.
Please meet me on the bridge.

Hello, it’s me, one who didn’t make the laws,
one who has no right to play the Judge,
but one who can tell how His pardon comes.

I love you enough to want your best
even when your best is the harder choice.
I pray you’ll hear that love shine through
where truth and grace meet in my voice.

You were meant to be renewed and cleansed.
Please meet me on the bridge.

Hello, it’s me, the one who weeps at beauty’s kiss,
one who found light, light to shatter the dark,
who now holds up that beacon from my heart.

I love you enough to want your best
even when your best is the harder choice.
I pray you’ll hear that love shine through
where truth and grace meet in my voice.

You were meant to grasp life and truly live.
Please meet me on the bridge.

Some winters feel more brutal than others. This one seems to be hitting many in my acquaintance quite hard. Between unusually long stretches of deep cold, wave after wave of substantial snow, and a bunch of really tough life circumstances, our hearts cry for a reprieve.

We are hoping for spring to arrive sooner than later. And we are looking for reminders that hoping for what we do not yet have is still a worthy pursuit.

In that light, I took time last night to finish painting this piece. And I wrote a poem to go with it.

This breaks up my series on “love” a bit, but I sensed there might be a few people who needed to see/read it now. (And, after all, isn’t it true that sometimes our ability to keep loving is fueled primarily by the hope that it’s simply our soul’s winter and things will eventually be resolved?)

Poem: Branch, Bud, Blossom

While I have sight,

let me appreciate

each fragile-vibrant blossom

reaching up

and out

in communion

with her neighbors

and the Giver of her

woven, cherished beauty.

And if these eyes

should ever dim,

let me recall solemnly

breathtaking snows,

so silent

and heavy,

to mute

Earth’s collective cry

of hope for a season…

only a season.

While meditating this past month on the theme of being loved before we can love, I have often come back to the visual of a person walking through a desert. My thoughts were connected to how so many of us cannot accept how much love we need until we realize how broken we are. Or cannot accept how loved we really are because our souls are so parched, poisoned, or weary.

This led me to think of flowers opening up to the sun and drinking in its life-giving rays. Even in the drier regions of the world, things still bloom in their season. And their beauty opening in those arid places that seem void of life is all the more stunning to the observing eye.

These musings led me to write this short poem: Drink the Rays.

You start so well,

a promising spark,

a flare set to burn, bright.

But lies and snares creep in like snakes,

scales for your tearless eyes.

Your posture slumps

and tugs your view down.

Flare hits a frown,

wounded one;

stay there.

When the way is dark,

the path grows dim,

and all the questions come.

That’s the time for light to shine

from somewhere high above.

Lift up your head

and raise your gaze.

Drink deep the rays,

dear child;

be loved.

Out with the old and in with the new. So another year is upon us.

As a writer, I want to be more intentional about how I use my time and how I focus my writing energy in 2019. That goes for my other writing work as well as my weekly blogging.

Over the past year-and-a-half of blogging, I’ve often written according to what was happening at that specific time, with sort of random organization. Reflecting on that this weekend, I decided to have a formal plan for where I want to go with my blog during the next 12 months.

The blog has four main categories. I plan to make better use of these different areas over the coming year, so this is my plan.

I will spend this year pondering what we are to be and then what we are to do from that place of being. Each month I will focus on a different topic, and within that month, each week I will write about that topic from a different angle: teaching, psychology, encouragement, and writing.

Months and planned topics:

January, be loved

February, love

March, be known

April, know

May, be seen

June, see

July, be heard

August, hear

September, be illuminated

October, shine

November, be blessed

December, bless

Please join me on this journey in the months ahead. Read when you would like to read, and share any posts that you find helpful with those you care about.

I wish you all the best, dear readers, in the year ahead!

Dear Readers,

As is my habit (usually), I’ve written a poem tied especially to the annual Christmas observance. This year, while meditating extensively on the intertwined roles of God’s divine sovereignty and supreme will and our degree of personal choice and free will, I found myself thinking more of the wise men who traveled far to see the Christ child, arriving after His birth.

My thoughts led me to write these words from a Wiseman’s point of view. In the spirit of the holiday celebration, I hope these words might give your spirit something meaningful to ponder: a moment of deeper quiet and greater closeness to the One its all about.

Merry Christmas – and may sweet peace be yours in the New Year.

Wisdom Speaks

I.

Long and often had we argued,

our learned minds

seeking to find

the master of destiny: a man’s choices

or his fate?

Sure and lofty was my view,

my proud heart

standing apart –

the master of destiny: my grand choices

shaping my fate.

Slowly and gently were we changed,

my brothers and I

seeing a child –

the Master of Destiny: my choices intertwined

with my fate.

II.

The choice to deny self and reach out is hard.

In light was I led to walk that path,

in pain was I born to bear that gift,

in love was I formed to find that star:

Marvelous,

brightest,

led to the wisest.

It’s a choice to listen to what we’ve heard.

By heaven was I made to worship that King,

by angels was I told to guard that Babe,

by history was I left to leave this word:

Seek Him,

find Him,

place none beside Him.