No More Still

It’s been a long time since I’ve

had something to say

with these fingers and keys.

Yet, today, they skip and click

back and forth–

able, once more,

to press symbols into service

and mold memos into message

until silence takes its place

between the gaps

of a rising

voice.

The first notes of promise

cause the mind to stir with

confidence,

gratitude,

and dreams of discourse

that are

first, extravagant

then, reasonable.

The final conclusion

is this:

the words that come

must belong to today’s stage

and not one already buried by time.

Whatever untold,

but insistent upon expression,

will ultimately arise

at a relevant time.

Until then,

mysteries will

hold their tongue,

but no more

our attention.

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Fearing Him Is A Valley Job

Lord,
I’m recognizing
that I need
to fear You
more…

Barely begun,
my prayer
morphs into
a mental image of
God and I
cresting a mountain
from which He
unlocks for me
all the secrets
of His glory
and I stand,
dazed by His
brilliance
and might.
And it is
while
I am on
visual overload
that the fear
of the Lord
takes over me.

…To fast forward
a little bit,
so far God
hasn’t taken
my daydream HD,
but He has been
showing me that
He’s heard my
prayer
and He knows
exactly what the answer
needs to look like.
My heart has needed
some work–
a LOT,
to be exact–
and God has
been doing it.
None of it has been
natural
or sit-back-
and-watch-the-
show kind of relaxing.
But every moment
of it has been
a minute
detail
of a much
bigger miracle.
I am being changed
by the only One
Who could do what
God’s doing–
and that’s life
at it’s best,
isn’t it?

What if Your love…changed my questions?

What if Your love
is not meant to be contained
in a single day,
or revealed in the answer
to a solitary prayer?
What if Your love
is bigger, deeper
than the bite-sized portions
I make of my life,
when I try to judge whether
You are good
by what I like and what I
don’t?
What if my life is a whole
that was not meant to be divided
because You are most
personal to me,
when I stop trying to see You
through the details
and begin to see the themes
through You.

How far do I have to go to get beyond myself?

Note to self:
Think beyond yourself and you’ll be okay.

That’s a little too out of your league, right? I mean, you never signed up to be Super-Spiritual Man (or his knock-off, the infamous Super-Spiritual Man-Wannabe). All you want to do is make it through life the best you can. If someone like me can give you some advice that you can tuck into your pocket and find comfort in as you make your way, so much the better, but you won’t be too dependent on the possibility. But what potential for reaching a worthy destination are you assured by merely accumulating the pocket-change variety of spiritual direction and input?

If everything you do and are is spirit, how can you relegate such a small investment to what connects you with God’s Spirit? Truly, the opposite of actively pursuing connection must be consistently avoiding it. Therefore, how can you hope in a pleasant destination for your life if there is yet no link between you and the Pleasant One in whose quarters alone eternal joy resides?

Are my questions feeling a bit harsh? Maybe you’re thinking some of us just weren’t made for that sort of connection. Yet, how could that be? Rather than trying to reason with you about whether we were made for connection with God or not, let me ask you to consider instead how a true relational connection could be workable if one party were to exclude themselves from the union.

If my life should be a song–could I really sing it along with You?

What would be the soundtrack
if I should
one day happen to hear
God singing
the life behind my years?
Would the rhythm be composed of lilting melodies,
blended to lift the soul,
or would dark journeys of sound constantly converge,
bringing distress to the
very deepest parts of me?
Would it kill me to encounter
the unvarnished tension in the story
He would tell
or would I revel in the underlying current of strength
He held out to me
in every detail?

Would I long to join Him in the song
that flowed from His mouth
or would I faint at the idea
of being so personal with Him?
Would I let Him sing the song alone because I
was too afraid to lift my voice and let what’s inside of me
be heard?
Would I think it important enough
to expose everything that’s in me
to perform
this Original alongside its kind Composer
or would I prefer to sit back and critique
its taste
and discredit its potential for great acclaim?

I pray that mine should be a heart
that swells at the opportunity
to join my Maker in a song that bears His name
and reveals His heart in every
harmonized moment
between He and I.
I hope that I should gape in wonder at the interest
He would take
in my every weak attempt to carry the tune;
yes, wonder that He should
infuse each wayward note
with His own rich scales of
pure and undying Love.

With One like this behind the music of my life,
how should I keep from
embracing forever
this final lyric of joy:
…”Amen”?