whoa---

--I am blogging.

I have not blogged in a while. I have journaled and rambled and spoken. But not anything like this, crafting a paragraph so people I do not know (or do know) can read.
I feel like the last blog post was a universe away. In some ways it was a universe away. It is a new semester. I know different people, am known by different people. I am different. The way I see is constantly (by God's grace, literally) being seared.
But in some ways it is not. This is stil God's universe.
Actually, I just crept back at the lat post I made. This sentence was in bold:

I keep slipping back into grace, after slipping out of it.
Why do I do that? I want to carry this burden of award. I there is one thing I can testfy to, it is that it is better to be loved rather than 'appreciated.' And another thing: no responsibility means no repentance, and repentance gives us hands to accept grace.

Blesed is he whoe transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whos sin the LORD does not count against him and in whose spirit there is no deceit. Psalm 32:1, 2

FORGIVEN.

Main Entry:for*give
Pronunciation:f*r-*giv
Function:verb
Inflected Form:-gave \-*g*v\ ; -giv*en \-*gi-v*n\ ; -giv*ing

1 : to give up resentment of
2 : PARDON : ABSOLVE
3 : to grant relief from payment of
–for*giv*able adjective
–for*give*ness noun

Give up, pardon, absolve, dissolve, relieve.

I am reading a short essay called "A Short History of Happiness." I want to blog about it, sometime.

That is all I have. God is so good. Read Psalm 32 all the way through.

Psalm 32
Of David. A maskil.[a]
1 Blessed is the one
whose transgressions are forgiven,
whose sins are covered.
2 Blessed is the one
whose sin the LORD does not count against them
and in whose spirit is no deceit.

3 When I kept silent,
my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
4 For day and night
your hand was heavy on me;
my strength was sapped
as in the heat of summer.[b]

5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you
and did not cover up my iniquity.
I said, “I will confess
my transgressions to the LORD.”
And you forgave
the guilt of my sin.

6 Therefore let all the faithful pray to you
while you may be found;
surely the rising of the mighty waters
will not reach them.
7 You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.

8 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.
9 Do not be like the horse or the mule,
which have no understanding
but must be controlled by bit and bridle
or they will not come to you.
10 Many are the woes of the wicked,
but the LORD’s unfailing love
surrounds the one who trusts in him.

11 Rejoice in the LORD and be glad, you righteous;
sing, all you who are upright in heart!

Another thing I can testify to: This is battle. This life will always be a battle, so we need to fight. But we are victors.

"Moses answered the people, 'Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.'"

Before God I lay down my defenses. He will deliver me.
Deliverance, relief, salvation, grace, grace, grace.

Thank you, my God.


Where my eyes open.

Silent seas curving purple
and shadow of Your hand.

I see finally

silver between breaks
of Your skin. Your breath minting words
into forms. Your breath against

the space between my rib cage and where
my heart beats
newly warm.

Born in Your breath.

Can it be all I hear?
Risen

Your fingers scent---

God, today I heard the sun rise

and all I could know was,
“Your love for me

is more wonderful.”
Than the love of men. And the love

of my lovers that do not love.

Claim me in that silence,
a world, enamored,

creation in transport held by

Your breath.

Can it be all I hear?
Risen,
Your breath
my song,

Your hand
the only place I know.

Unknown in every eye but Your own.

have you ever thought of how often we trample each other?

And what do I mean by that? Do you remember last year, Christmas time, when a human stampede on black friday literally killed someone in a Wal-mart? That's what I mean, but I don't mean that every so often I can look back to my tracks and see a physically mutilated body. No. What I mean is that; do I care about people? And I don't mean soft care, or surface care, or just care what they think about me. If they think I care for them. I mean; do I CARE? Do you know what the Thesaurus says about caring?

CARING:
see SORROW

Related words:
strain, stress, tension. a burdened of disquieted state of mind.
anxiety, concern, concernment, disquiet, disquietude, unease, uneaseiness, worry.

Now, get these contrasted words:

CONTRASTED: calm, ease, comfort


Matthew 9:35-38
Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field."

Luke 19:41-45
As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you."


Was Jesus ever compelled by...obligation? What? How could that even be? Jesus was broken, even literally, for us.

Why do I let myself be controlled by legalistic obligation?
When will I allow God to break me so much that I throw away my excuses and let compassion drive me, the way Jesus was driven?

I need to get tired and sick of my 'relgion game', of putting on a show and really get honest with people. I need to throw away any act I could shove down people's throats, and really ask, WHO is worth it? If God is real, then what does HE have to say? Who is He?
Do I see how God sees these people? Does my heart break with other people's hurts? Do I CARE? Am I so self-absorbed that I won't even let God's light shine and reveal what goes on in my mind?

Why do I not see apathy for what it is; literally stomping all over people, when will I HATE apathy towards God and people so much I can only cry out to God to change my heart and mind and eyes?



BREAK MY HEART FOR WHAT BREAKS YOURS. (Brooke Fraser)

Give me Your eyes to see everything I've been missing,
give me Your love for humanity,
give me Your eyes so I can see...
I've been here a thousand times...
I swear I never thought that I was wrong,
I want a second glance, give me a second chance,
to see the way You've seen the people all along.

TO SEE THE WAY YOU'VE SEEN THE PEOPLE ALL ALONG.
(Brandon Heath)


Apathetic: how do I see you?
What does it take this time?
Sitting, knees against
a hard wood table, foot slapped against
rough chair fabric.

Sometimes the width of empty rooms
the mass of silence between voices,
and sometimes the cup of my hand,
brings me
to this time,
look around, like scales falling from

my eyes.
Sometimes it is the pool in the cup of my hand.

What does it take this time?
Empty eyes.
The crumbling inside my rib cage---

Maybe I, weak-eyed,
saw weakness, a weakness I could never know.
Maybe I need to protect you
or desire to protect you, a small diamond
I must continually swallow.
because I know I can’t
be the constant. I can’t
anchor my soul, can’t anchor your soul,
cannot wrap you in a grip, pull your sleeves up,

So scars like embroidery---

What did it take?

Maybe if I saw you
from a bridge, a tall tower,
curly tree branches, hanging
on the very edge, maybe if God
will bash my silly wall encasing,
lift me from that strained
position, chained to a train track,
if He could scoop me in His own hand,

and I could be enamored by His view.
Nothing is hideous
there, but what I see

bursts me open, metamorphic,

like a thousand pieces of glass, blood
like tears, and what I see, the need
I see, the hearts like blue leaves in winter,
enslaved bodies, words like stones
huddled around, feeling each other, being scratched unaware,

blue faces and pretty jars slashed apart,

dark screaming
louder.

What did it take this time?
All the scenes I see are in black and white.
The sound drips away like sweat.

Only His light, a thousand golden showers.
Only His blood, red shooting across the sky.
Only His love, a purple robe.

Bursts you open, metamorphic.






Nightlights
(Jimmy Needham)

Be Thou exalted over my reputation, 'Cause applause is a poor form of soul medication.

And I've tried it for years, but my symptoms remain:
Still fretting the day that they'll misplace my name,
Still selling my soul for American fame.
Treating the promotion of Jesus like a well oiled machine,
Advancing His kingdom just to snag some acclaim. Now, I'm both comforted and haunted that it isn't just me though.
I see a nation of people needing to feed their own egos,
Parading status like steeples.
Do we not know it's evil to love ourselves more than both God and His people?
But see, here's where you turn this poem on it's head,
'Cause the greatest among us came as servant instead,
And You humbled Yourself to the point of Your death.
Apparently love for the Father's glory runs red.

So friends, will we point to the Son till our own flames grow dim?
Will our bright lights become merely night-lights near Him?
Words echo once, let them echo again:

Be Thou exalted over my reputation.

What prostrate means.

I read a lot of verses in the Bible that talk about lying prostrate. I must be honest and tell you that I didn't know what it meant until I finally looked it up two summers ago.

pros·trate (prstrt)
tr.v. pros·trat·ed, pros·trat·ing, pros·trates
1. To put or throw flat with the face down, as in submission or adoration: "He did not simply sit and meditate, he also knelt down, sometimes even prostrated himself" (Iris Murdoch).
2. To cause to lie flat: The wind prostrated the young trees.
3. To reduce to extreme weakness or incapacitation; overcome: an illness that prostrated an entire family; a nation that was prostrated by years of civil war.
adj.
1. Lying face down, as in submission or adoration.
2. Lying flat or at full length.
3. Reduced to extreme weakness or incapacitation; overcome.
4. Botany Growing flat along the ground.

Anyways, what I got out of the big brown dictionary I used were these synonyms: to overcome, to wear down, to submit, to arrest.

I really wish I remembered the specific verses I read that prompted me to write these poems. But I don't. I'll go back and post verses on lying prostrate. For now, here are the poems:

"To Fall Prostrate"

If I am an empty cup. If I am
brittle and chipping away. If I am
lamenated by anything I touch,

I wish for You to break me.

I wish to fall, agast
with a sudden blow, or
silently cracked, by piece.

I wish for You to create me again, and fill me.

(That one was written in 2008. I specicially remember why I wrote this poem; it was after a Bible Study at a summer camp---The Masterworks Festival, aka the most awesome place ever. The Bible Study leader mentioned of those two different ways God teacheS us things in our life. One is by dramatic changes. Sometimes it's black one second and white the next. Othertimes it divulges itself in many shade of gray, and you don't realize until later you're a different color.)

"What prostrate means"

Sometimes it is
wearing out. My hands, my joints
my arms, my throat,
every point, like stars
Blinking away into space, collapsing,

and I crumble,
mere wear,
and I tear up. You win
the war, and I finally am
captivated,
free.

Sometimes
it is overcome,

I throw off the towel again.

God,
and here,
like a big bright
Light. I take You, the edge
of my feet singing silently,
every muscle vibrating.
You are the
Giver. And throwing

off the towel, no longer
afraid of the Water,
no longer ashamed of the plummet,
of sinking into
Your praise. Instead,

praise rise glowing, flushed.

(This one I wrote a few days ago.)