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


The first notes of promise

cause the mind to stir with



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.

Make me happy and comfy, Lord–and whatever else might make my life swell!

You kneel to pray. The world around you, restrains its breath to listen in. What you say will be akin to putting your heart, open, upon the most precious alter in existence. There is nothing you will do that has more weight than what you commit to your Father in these moments.

God loves to hear what you have to communicate. Every day of your life His heart is tuned to hear your words, your heart. He doesn’t care to hear news about you so much as He craves having you relate yourself to Him personally.

He not only wants to hear what you have to say, He longs to divulge His word to you as well. In fact, there’s so much He has to share, that He must fairly burst with the abundance! There is nothing He meant human life to be about exclusive of this.

Now is the time to tell God exactly what You want from Him, and you do. You commence with your monologue in short order. What He heeds in your requests is almost pure static. There is no quietness, no evidence of you wanting to just be in His presence and sit awhile.

He wonders why you come. Why you choose to turn your voice toward Him and not another. What do you seek to gain? Surely it is not consistent with the gains He wants to give you.

Your interest is not in His heart. Your hope is that the substance of His words will be consistent with your expectations. You have no thought of what He might want to give to you all on His own. You come not to receive, but to demand. You don’t know what real prayer–the deep and personal relating with God–is about.

But, there is hope. We all start out here. Thank God He has no intention of leaving us at this point, though. He wants us to know His heart more than anything else. So, He makes it so we can. He invites us to come to Him and do more than fill His ear, but to let Him fill our hearts.

All He asks is that we still our souls. He doesn’t ask for silence, but for a willingness to never be content with silence from Him. A relationship with Him hinges on this and therefore He pushes for it. He urges our hearts to hanker for more than just a way to get Him to do what we want. To want the very things He wants is to delight in sharing a unity that springs from the heart and seals us to one another.

Can I trust You in the stillness of my life?

Boredom seems to eat away at my soul–slowly depleting my hardy reserves of faith and hope and love. What is the matter, Lord? Why aren’t You doing the things You keep insisting You will? Why do You find it necessary to wait–especially when the echoes of this silence stifle my cries for an outbreak of divine commotion?

How could You fail to meet my expectations for a very exciting God in this moment of my life? I see You doing things, but I am left feeling like You are holding out on me. What is going on here? Do my senses lie or am I just not ready for what You’ve got planned next?

I don’t think I can bear much more stillness. My prayer muscles seem thoroughly fatigued: Could this mean the prayer-only stage of this process is coming to an end? I thought I was content with the routine You and I had going, but now You are switching everything up on me. I can’t really put my finger on anything, but my spirit is sensing a lot of “never-been-here-before” and “what-could-be-next…” And let me say that these spiritual syndromes really don’t feel all that fun right now!

I want to ask, “Couldn’t You give me more clues, Lord?” Since You know everything, isn’t it about time that You decided I could know the same? I’m impatient and weary. I would think everything should be all wrong because of these musings of mine, but yet all seems right on track–I just haven’t figured out which track that is yet.

Could You help; could You give me whatever it is You know I need right now? I don’t know how to ask any more. I have exhausted all that I know in the form of requests and suggestions. I need only grace and another glimpse of Your glory.

And love broke the deathly silence…

I thought I had a really good idea. I know, most people call it reaching for perfection, but to my mind it was nothing less than survival. To get this life-project off the ground, honesty and authenticity went out the window in favor of establishing habits and actions that would always make me appear to be “just right”. The only thing that has really mattered to me is the bottom line: Am I what I’m supposed to be; am I acceptable; am I fit for love?

Those three questions and their infinite variations have haunted me my whole life. I had no freedom to truly offer myself to God or receive His offerings in return. But, until very recently I did not realize this. Until making myself constantly presentable became too painful. Like applying makeup to a face festering with blistered infection–a normal habit not only becomes not an option, but a danger to one’s health and healing. That’s where I was.

All of a sudden, honesty became the only way I could possibly live with problems I was facing. My disgust with the pain God’s plan’s were causing me demanded that I speak without editing for divine appeal. As I opened the valve and released a trickle from my heart the pressure increased, forcing me to enable more and more to drain from me. I poured my true self out to God, and encountered the most surprising result: I was free, and with all my hate, yet He held me.

He did not lose me to my emotions and my sin, He set me free from the prison in which I had allowed them to hold my heart. I’ve discovered that God can handle my ugliness, He just asks that I agree to let Him. If I keep everything in for the sake of my fear and pride, I am unwittingly nurturing what will harden my heart towards the only One who can make it pure.

And the goal here is purity–the work of God–and not perfection–the misinformed work (without end) of man. The work of purification of our souls begins exactly the moment that we present to Him our need for it.

Weakness introduces Strength in a most attractive way

Could this God

be enough for you?

Will “yes,” bring

more disappointment

than hope at its end?

Is there reward in seeking

more than you could

gain by yourself?


Sometimes I wonder.

Sometimes I want to believe

Just the whispers of

My weakened self,

Not the silence

of His Grace.


He is at horizon

Beckoning me

To come see His

Son rise.

But I quickly

look away.



I ask




“Have You

seen me lately?

I am here because

I can’t get up.

I don’t think You

Realize how impossible

It is to meet You like this.”


Then He begins to speak:

“I am not mistaken

When I call your name;

I know that you are weak —

Don’t forget that it was I who

Have made you this way.

I understand you’re afraid —

let Me remind you why

you don’t need to be.

I don’t want you

to miss this,

So I insist:


Yes, even as you are;

And if you find that you still cannot,

My child, take as your own My strength.”