It's been one horror show of a day...the effort to push forward feels almost too much.
God, where are you in this pain and confusion?
I feel like I'm drowning...where is the way out?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Forgiveness
"Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate... leads to suffering."
-Master Yoda
Forgiveness.
This word feel so cheap when I speak it from my lips.
Forgiveness.
Forgiveness?
Forgiveness from what? From whom?
It's not like anyone enjoys the act of forgiving others but at the same time we want it.
We need it.
Even when we don't realize we need it, we crave for it.
It's like oxygen and love.
We need both to breath, to exhale, to inhale, to feel, to begin to blossom in the sunlight from the broken creatures we once were.
And what of these words?
So frail.
So fragile.
Dying so soon.
A part of me resents God and hates this concept of forgiveness and love. This idea of 'loving others AS MUCH as I love myself" (Matthew 22:39, emphasis added) and that bit about "I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst." (Matthew 5:44)
That is so irritating.
Infuriating even.
For someone who carries the weight of the world on his back as well as a few specially self created burdens of hate.
As one who is incredibly high strung, as someone who does not understand the concept of 'relaxing' or 'sleep' for that matter, this is infuriating because it means I am not only in the wrong but I am an idiot for wasting all of this energy on fear and confused anger.
To understand why people are willing to commit and do so many heinous acts you have to understand that so much of that rage comes from internalized fear. As cliche as it might seem we become what we surround ourselves with.
"Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dark cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have. You can't worship two gods at once. Loving one god, you'll end up hating the other. Adoration of one feeds contempt for the other." (Matthew 6:22-24)
Part of this problem is circumstances beyond my control and thought, most of the time.
So often the problem is me...but there is something more then me...there is more...sometimes I do not think it is there...but it is...it is not dependent on my thought or my perfection...luckily.
"Jesus resumed talking to the people, but now tenderly. "The Father has given me all these things to do and say. This is a unique Father-Son operation, coming out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. No one knows the Son the way the Father does, nor the Father the way the Son does. But I'm not keeping it to myself; I'm ready to go over it line by line with anyone willing to listen.
""Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.""
-Matthew 11:27-30
-Master Yoda
Forgiveness.
This word feel so cheap when I speak it from my lips.
Forgiveness.
Forgiveness?
Forgiveness from what? From whom?
It's not like anyone enjoys the act of forgiving others but at the same time we want it.
We need it.
Even when we don't realize we need it, we crave for it.
It's like oxygen and love.
We need both to breath, to exhale, to inhale, to feel, to begin to blossom in the sunlight from the broken creatures we once were.
And what of these words?
So frail.
So fragile.
Dying so soon.
A part of me resents God and hates this concept of forgiveness and love. This idea of 'loving others AS MUCH as I love myself" (Matthew 22:39, emphasis added) and that bit about "I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst." (Matthew 5:44)
That is so irritating.
Infuriating even.
For someone who carries the weight of the world on his back as well as a few specially self created burdens of hate.
As one who is incredibly high strung, as someone who does not understand the concept of 'relaxing' or 'sleep' for that matter, this is infuriating because it means I am not only in the wrong but I am an idiot for wasting all of this energy on fear and confused anger.
To understand why people are willing to commit and do so many heinous acts you have to understand that so much of that rage comes from internalized fear. As cliche as it might seem we become what we surround ourselves with.
"Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dark cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have. You can't worship two gods at once. Loving one god, you'll end up hating the other. Adoration of one feeds contempt for the other." (Matthew 6:22-24)
Part of this problem is circumstances beyond my control and thought, most of the time.
So often the problem is me...but there is something more then me...there is more...sometimes I do not think it is there...but it is...it is not dependent on my thought or my perfection...luckily.
"Jesus resumed talking to the people, but now tenderly. "The Father has given me all these things to do and say. This is a unique Father-Son operation, coming out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. No one knows the Son the way the Father does, nor the Father the way the Son does. But I'm not keeping it to myself; I'm ready to go over it line by line with anyone willing to listen.
""Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.""
-Matthew 11:27-30
Monday, May 18, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
This Is...It?
Nightmares.
So little time.
Bearing on reality or not,
do you sincerely believe
that all is mere flesh and bones?
That someone,
the totality can be summed
in mere organic thought
and numerical being?
It's not like I can't see you,
every day of my life
I'm feeling just like you.
I see the pain and know it's trite,
but there is love
and love enough for you
just like there is love for me.
Love that overcame death
and crossed this chasm.
Love that screams for freedom
gasping for breath
as it whispers your name.
It is just like this one
to leave home before being ready.
Forgetting everything at the door
and selling myself before I can agree
but here I am,
just like you.
Going down,
crashing at a moment's notice.
Failing on love
just as I have before.
What will it take for you to see,
this love is real,
blood bought
and eternal in being
far outside our souls
but close enough to fear.
Love that never failed
and never will.
No matter what I've done,
this lifetime of failure
summed up in a breath
You have carried me.
It is You who took on flesh
and wore it these many years,
carrying this pain
in a cross shaped parcel
With no thought of loss,
the Hell or fear
You carried me just as easily.
How can I reply?
How does one so broken and finite
respond to one infinite in love?
I've nothing to give,
nothing but this broken life.
Look into my eyes and see,
see what you've missed.
See the blood stained tears
and know there is hope.
See the distraught soul
that has been carried
and forgiven a lifetime of sin
and know there is grace.
So little time.
Bearing on reality or not,
do you sincerely believe
that all is mere flesh and bones?
That someone,
the totality can be summed
in mere organic thought
and numerical being?
It's not like I can't see you,
every day of my life
I'm feeling just like you.
I see the pain and know it's trite,
but there is love
and love enough for you
just like there is love for me.
Love that overcame death
and crossed this chasm.
Love that screams for freedom
gasping for breath
as it whispers your name.
It is just like this one
to leave home before being ready.
Forgetting everything at the door
and selling myself before I can agree
but here I am,
just like you.
Going down,
crashing at a moment's notice.
Failing on love
just as I have before.
What will it take for you to see,
this love is real,
blood bought
and eternal in being
far outside our souls
but close enough to fear.
Love that never failed
and never will.
No matter what I've done,
this lifetime of failure
summed up in a breath
You have carried me.
It is You who took on flesh
and wore it these many years,
carrying this pain
in a cross shaped parcel
With no thought of loss,
the Hell or fear
You carried me just as easily.
How can I reply?
How does one so broken and finite
respond to one infinite in love?
I've nothing to give,
nothing but this broken life.
Look into my eyes and see,
see what you've missed.
See the blood stained tears
and know there is hope.
See the distraught soul
that has been carried
and forgiven a lifetime of sin
and know there is grace.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
"The Lamb" - William Blake
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
"The Tyger" - William Blake
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Frequently More
You can send the rain to wash away the dirt, wash away the stains but Jesus could you wash away my pain?
You can send the rain but think of me first and see how I'm drowning.
All day, every day I hear of the pain.
I see it in their eyes
and hear it in their voices.
Could you turn and see,
see the ones in need of You?
You speak of freedom of choice,
the right to be
but God,
what of the pain?
There is no Heaven here,
not even water.
Just wastelands posing as life
trite and with no compassion.
I can't carry my pain any further
and all I do is reap destruction
because of what I've sown.
Good intentions and negligence
are just trite metaphors
seeking to explain why I broke it,
when there is no excuse,
nothing I can do to justify me.
Nothing except You.
There has to be more than this,
more to this life.
Jesus can you take the time,
just a second of your time
to give some peace?
To be near in this storm,
to push past my the rage
and insecurities which flood
and overwhelm my heart.
What little love may remain,
let it flow,
let it burn.
Save me from this overload,
this wretched state.
Please love me.
You can send the rain but think of me first and see how I'm drowning.
All day, every day I hear of the pain.
I see it in their eyes
and hear it in their voices.
Could you turn and see,
see the ones in need of You?
You speak of freedom of choice,
the right to be
but God,
what of the pain?
There is no Heaven here,
not even water.
Just wastelands posing as life
trite and with no compassion.
I can't carry my pain any further
and all I do is reap destruction
because of what I've sown.
Good intentions and negligence
are just trite metaphors
seeking to explain why I broke it,
when there is no excuse,
nothing I can do to justify me.
Nothing except You.
There has to be more than this,
more to this life.
Jesus can you take the time,
just a second of your time
to give some peace?
To be near in this storm,
to push past my the rage
and insecurities which flood
and overwhelm my heart.
What little love may remain,
let it flow,
let it burn.
Save me from this overload,
this wretched state.
Please love me.
Friday, May 15, 2009
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