Verbs of God

Dancing in every corner
of my unbridled mind,
Rejoicing resounds from every
crevice of the revelrous parade.

You've freed me, saved me,
held me, loved me, made me
one of Your very own.

Joy abounds like a flowing
brook babbling through my rocky mind.
Peace descends and covers each
department like a tranquil fog.

You've lifted me, carried me,
whitewashed me, embraced me, knitted me
together to be who I am today.

Past events have all been
erased from the annals of memory.
Healing flows through every
limb of my troubled mind.

You've befriended me, amended me,
confounded me, forgiven me, protected me
from my anguish here on earth.

Thank you.

Sound Advice

Walked away from the door today,
Went and sat at my desk.
Was the first time in weeks I looked away,
Wanted to clear my head and get some rest.

For weeks I had sat and I had stared
Frustrated and filled with emotional strife.
Fomenting rebellion as much as I dared,
Foisting my impatience in the Lord of Life.

"Come to me, spend time with me,"
Called my Father God each hour.
"Cling to my teachings and be free,
Cast your cares on me, stop giving them power."

So I sat at my desk and began to pray,
Seeking my Lord and forgetting the door.
Somewhere during the chat I heard Him say,
"She's a girl worth waiting for."

A Weary Plea

Pensive
I wander through my mind
Days have passed wihout time for this repast.

Weary of effort.
Rest seems so far off and distant.
Stop this endless cavalcade of doing.

Draw me into Your arms.
Write rest on my drooping eyelids
Tell me to take a break.

I know You want me to do Your will
Yet You're not trying to kill me
Everything is draining me.

Eagles' wings
Grant me rest and eagles' wings
And that shall be enough.

Pensive
Sing over my heart, Father God,
Grant me rest and eagles' wings.

Dead House Redemption

"Don't go there," my mother warned,
pointing to the dark manor down the
street. The building stood there, a
poignant reminder to avoid darkness.
Kids threw rocks, but I never liked that;
seemed so hurtful to the already-broken
house full of memories.

"Don't go there," my friend warned when
the house became a tourist attraction. "The
cobwebs are plastic and the story is
fabricated." He had gone, paid twenty dollars
for the tour. "The tour guide is shady, he
seems nice enough, but there is...
something
odd about him."

"Don't go in there," the tour guide warned,
"without a candle. The spirits inside are very
strong." I take the candle, thinking to myself:
I can probably handle them without one.
Sure enough, the cobwebs were real, the creaky
boards truly rotten. The poor house was falling
apart, and the tour guide who owned it would
do nothing to fix it at all.

Don 't go there, I remembered, as the pointless
tour came to an end. I headed towards the door,
and the house began to sigh. It begged me not to go,
not to leave it unchanged. "I love you," the door
squeaked, and my heart broke. As I stood there,
I whispered three simple words: "You are mine."

As the weeks went on after that moment of truth,
I repaired the house, covering the broken parts
with blood, tearing down and rebuilding bad struc-
tures. And as the house was renewed the old tour
guide stood on the sidewalk crying out to all:
"Don't go there."

Psalm of Transparency

Gazing at the mirror:
I finally see myself clearly...
The full wretchedness of my sin
Oozes out of the mirror and reaches for me.
In horror I drop to my knees,
In fear I cry out, seeking solace.
Broken I turn, No longer able to handle the gaze.
Then - behind me -
Like fireburst, light busting forth: You're there.
You hold me, and the broken tears flow from
Eyes that cannot bear to look.
You cry too;
I fearfully think you find me wretched,
That You'll turn away disgusted.
But Your tears turn to blood
And this mortal pus lets me go:
It's gone!
Hold me tighter! Cover me in love-blood!
The mirror is shattered -
I am left with "only" You.