Psalm 73
When my heart was grieved and my spirit embittered, was sensles and igorant; I was a brute beast before you. Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
Letters
I remember giving letters to that dead feeling.
What longer made sense? Because all the fancy names
I thought to give parted to find
nothing behind the curtain.
If there were a box, if that box was me,
empty it. I want to empty it,
the contents spilling like fire crackers into a sea.
No one needs to know me--must I be known?
More else, sometimes I think I don’t
want to be known; or I want to be known
for not being known.
Once there was a birth, and that was myself.
The product of a moment of intense desire, like everyone else.
But with a reason. Right, isn’t that why am I here, Lord?
I want to cut off those entangling cords that tell me,
“Better find a tight space to fit in.”
Can you give me,--to be unknown
in every eye but Your own--that intense desire?
Can I belong in You?
If there is a box, I would empty it out.
I would write prayers and secrets, scratch a paper
with my hurts and then seal the box.
But then? I don’t know. I don’t think
I would want it to sink into the sea.
Would it sink, even?
Or would it fly across the water, toward the sun,
because where do those prayers go?
What would it look like, those tight pages of
jealousy and insecurity,
frustration, hater,
stomping on people,
disguising sin.
Rage.
To look at You silently, in the midst of that rage---when all I want to know
was, ‘Is that You?’ I don’t want it if it was not. Are You mad, what? Do You care
if I cry and shrink off when we dance? Or am I just made at You?
Where would they land?
Maybe it is a gift I need to give.
It slips across my fingers, that huge box I carry around my arms,
tops across someone’s feet, and they stare at it
with the falling gaze of the wind, like a hunger.
It gets kicked until it disappears.
God, you are not the box.
All the boxes I have collected, all the boxes I have stored,
all of them cramped in tight spaces;
I release them to You.
I can give You nothing else.
Sunday, November 7
Tuesday, October 12
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.
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.
Saturday, August 14
probably the last post i will post this summer?
I suppose it is about time for another blog post.
I am really unfaithful when it comes to updating this blog. I will have five posts within two days, and then nothing for a month.
Summer has blown past so quickly. I can't believe it is just a week until school starts. In many ways, I am beyond excited for the school year.
Why am I excited for the school year?
In most ways, there will be nothing very new about this school year; I am still going to the same college, taking the (some) of the same classes, just more of them now. I will live in the same house and commute like the years before, and take the bus system.
God has really, really been trying to tell me something this summer, and now I'm beginning to really hear it.
And that is this: I cannot love people on my own, with my own strength and own love.
I can't. I am not capable of it. Does that make sense? It used to make sense to me, but I don't think I really believed it. I still thought I could do it on my own, perhaps with gospel "aids" and trying to "include" imitating Jesus into it.
It has to be completely His, and none of mine.
Right now it makes sense to me, because I can't imagine loving someone truly. I'm really tired of trying on my own, too, because on my own I don't even have the desire to have compassion.
Psalm 18:34-40
"Whenever God slew them, they would seek him;
they eagerly turned to him again.
"They remembered that God was their Rock,
that God Most High was their Redeemer.
"But then they would flatter him with their mouths,
lying to him with their tongues;
"their hearts were not loyal to him,
they were not faithful to his covenant.
"Yet he was merciful;
he forgave their iniquities
and did not destroy them.
Time after time he restrained his anger
and did not stir up his full wrath.
"He remembered that they were but flesh,
a passing breeze that does not return.
"How often they rebelled against him in the desert
and grieved him in the wasteland!"
I read that yesterday, and I wondered: How many times have I merely flattered God with my lips and literally lied to Him with my tongue? Sometimes the problem isn't that I don't pray the "right things," but that I don't really mean them; or, if I can't seem to mean them, tell God I can't and ask Him to change me. I know that I really desire to become what God desires me to become---but I can't seem to allow Him.
What needs to be, according to these verses, is that my heart becomes steadfast. I thought about that for a bit. Really, to be fastened in its stead. My heart has a place in Christ (yes, that Christ bought it). It has a place and needs to remain there, to live there, to belong there; the more it dwells there, the more it will become like God and shine with God's character, like the definition of love.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
For this semester, Hebrews 12 has definitely become my theme.
Hebrew 12:14-15
"Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many."
And before those verses, the writer of Hebrews states, "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood." (4) How far will I go? Will I struggle with perserverence against the flesh, or will I give in too easily too many times? God will give me the power to fight, the same power He used to raise Christ from the dead. Will I not accept it? Wouldn't that promise spur me on? And God ALWAYS keeps His promises.
Psalm 77:13-14 "Your ways, oh God, are holy. What God is so great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles. You display Your power among the peoples."
This school year...what I desire for my life is that I let God reign in it, not me. That I use His resources, not my own. I am weary of using my own strength, and I just don't have it to myself to love someone sacrifically, to feel compassion or empathy. The junk in my heart needs to be boiled out until all I can see is Christ.
Reign in Us by Starfield
You thought of us before the world began to breathe
You knew our names before we came to be
You saw the very day we fall away from You
and how desperately we need to be redeemed
Lord Jesus
come lead us
we're desperate for Your touch
Oh Great and Mighty One
with one desire we come
that You would reign that You would reign in us
we're offering up our lives
a living sacrifice
that you would reign that You would reign in us
Spirit of the living God fall fresh again
come search our hearts and puify our lives
we need your perfect love we need your discipline
we're lost unless you guide us with your light
Lord Jesus
come lead us
we're desperate for Your touch
Oh Great and Mighty One
with one desire we come
that You would reign that You would reign in us
we're offering up our lives
a living sacrifice
that you would reign that you would reign in us
we cry out for Your life to revive us cry out
for Your love to define us cry out
for Your mercy to keep us
blameless until you return
oh Great and Mighty One
with one desire we come
that You would reign that You would reign in us
we're offering up our lives
a living sacrifice
that You would reign that You would reign in us
So reign please reign in us
come purify our hearts
we need Your touch
come cleanse us like a flood
and set us out
so the world may know You reign You reign in us
I am really unfaithful when it comes to updating this blog. I will have five posts within two days, and then nothing for a month.
Summer has blown past so quickly. I can't believe it is just a week until school starts. In many ways, I am beyond excited for the school year.
Why am I excited for the school year?
In most ways, there will be nothing very new about this school year; I am still going to the same college, taking the (some) of the same classes, just more of them now. I will live in the same house and commute like the years before, and take the bus system.
God has really, really been trying to tell me something this summer, and now I'm beginning to really hear it.
And that is this: I cannot love people on my own, with my own strength and own love.
I can't. I am not capable of it. Does that make sense? It used to make sense to me, but I don't think I really believed it. I still thought I could do it on my own, perhaps with gospel "aids" and trying to "include" imitating Jesus into it.
It has to be completely His, and none of mine.
Right now it makes sense to me, because I can't imagine loving someone truly. I'm really tired of trying on my own, too, because on my own I don't even have the desire to have compassion.
Psalm 18:34-40
"Whenever God slew them, they would seek him;
they eagerly turned to him again.
"They remembered that God was their Rock,
that God Most High was their Redeemer.
"But then they would flatter him with their mouths,
lying to him with their tongues;
"their hearts were not loyal to him,
they were not faithful to his covenant.
"Yet he was merciful;
he forgave their iniquities
and did not destroy them.
Time after time he restrained his anger
and did not stir up his full wrath.
"He remembered that they were but flesh,
a passing breeze that does not return.
"How often they rebelled against him in the desert
and grieved him in the wasteland!"
I read that yesterday, and I wondered: How many times have I merely flattered God with my lips and literally lied to Him with my tongue? Sometimes the problem isn't that I don't pray the "right things," but that I don't really mean them; or, if I can't seem to mean them, tell God I can't and ask Him to change me. I know that I really desire to become what God desires me to become---but I can't seem to allow Him.
What needs to be, according to these verses, is that my heart becomes steadfast. I thought about that for a bit. Really, to be fastened in its stead. My heart has a place in Christ (yes, that Christ bought it). It has a place and needs to remain there, to live there, to belong there; the more it dwells there, the more it will become like God and shine with God's character, like the definition of love.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
For this semester, Hebrews 12 has definitely become my theme.
Hebrew 12:14-15
"Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many."
And before those verses, the writer of Hebrews states, "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood." (4) How far will I go? Will I struggle with perserverence against the flesh, or will I give in too easily too many times? God will give me the power to fight, the same power He used to raise Christ from the dead. Will I not accept it? Wouldn't that promise spur me on? And God ALWAYS keeps His promises.
Psalm 77:13-14 "Your ways, oh God, are holy. What God is so great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles. You display Your power among the peoples."
This school year...what I desire for my life is that I let God reign in it, not me. That I use His resources, not my own. I am weary of using my own strength, and I just don't have it to myself to love someone sacrifically, to feel compassion or empathy. The junk in my heart needs to be boiled out until all I can see is Christ.
Reign in Us by Starfield
You thought of us before the world began to breathe
You knew our names before we came to be
You saw the very day we fall away from You
and how desperately we need to be redeemed
Lord Jesus
come lead us
we're desperate for Your touch
Oh Great and Mighty One
with one desire we come
that You would reign that You would reign in us
we're offering up our lives
a living sacrifice
that you would reign that You would reign in us
Spirit of the living God fall fresh again
come search our hearts and puify our lives
we need your perfect love we need your discipline
we're lost unless you guide us with your light
Lord Jesus
come lead us
we're desperate for Your touch
Oh Great and Mighty One
with one desire we come
that You would reign that You would reign in us
we're offering up our lives
a living sacrifice
that you would reign that you would reign in us
we cry out for Your life to revive us cry out
for Your love to define us cry out
for Your mercy to keep us
blameless until you return
oh Great and Mighty One
with one desire we come
that You would reign that You would reign in us
we're offering up our lives
a living sacrifice
that You would reign that You would reign in us
So reign please reign in us
come purify our hearts
we need Your touch
come cleanse us like a flood
and set us out
so the world may know You reign You reign in us
Monday, July 5
this is awesome. i just need to repost this video. (:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpVsF4W8V2Y
I included it in my last post as a link to a song I wanted to tag at the end. I finally just watched the video.
Awesome.
"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.
Here it is again in case you missed the link at the top. (:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpVsF4W8V2Y
I included it in my last post as a link to a song I wanted to tag at the end. I finally just watched the video.
Awesome.
"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.
Here it is again in case you missed the link at the top. (:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpVsF4W8V2Y
Praise Him
Making it a habit to praise God, praise Christ, listen to the amazingness of the Gospel. When I try to find joy any other way, it fails. I will not. That sounds like a rather blunt statement. All I know is that is true in my own life. So very true.
But it is not just for my own selfish desires. I should not look to praise God so I will be happy; that is not the end of praise at all. "Pray," writes Oswald Chambers, "because you have a Father, not because it quietens you, and give Him time to answer." The same goes for praise. Praise His because He is God; praise Him because He has made you His child. Praise Him for the Cross! It is truly a wonderful thing.
I really feel like going on an Oswald Chambers tangent...so I will include a conglomeration of his quotes on prayer. Which also goes for praise.
"We look upon prayer as a means of getting things for ourselves; The Bible idea of prayer is that we may get to know God Himself.
"Get into the habit of dealing with God about everything. Unless in the first waking moment of the day you learn to fling the door wide back and let God in, you will work on a wrong level all day; but swing the door wide open and pray to your Father in secret, and every public thing will be stamped with the presence of God.
"Do not have as your motive the desire to be known as a praying man. Get an inner chamber in which to pray where no one knows you are praying, shut the door, and talk to God in secret.
"Prayer is not only asking, it is an attitude of heart that produces an atmosphere in which asking is perfectly natural, and Jesus says, "every one that asketh receiveth."
~~~
I have been reading David Crowder's book "Praise Habit: Finding God in Sunsets and Sushi." Thus far I have only read up to, at most, the first two chapters.
"Every second is an opportunity for praise. There is a choosing to be made. A choosing at each moment. This is the Praise Habit."
- David Crowder
Praise Him
Friday, July 2
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.)
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.)
Thursday, July 1
1 chronicles 29 and generousity and prayer
“But who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this? Everything comes from your hand. And now I have seen with joy how willingly your people who are here have given to you. O LORD, God of our fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Israel, keep this desire in the hearts of your people forever, ...and keep their hearts loyal to you.”
Reading these verses this week was completely spontaneous. It has been something I have been reflecting on. My deeds and my belief, and how they happen to work together (if at all). It's so easy to know in my head. Of course they both must work together. It seems, on paper, so simple. But a few weeks ago it did not. I completely lost all joy in doing deeds (deeds meaning good, godly deeds like serving and sharing the gospel). It is even hard to explain now---it is half a realization of how insufficient I am, how so many times I do not have God's interest in mind. Another half, a doubting of who God is because, feeling my insufficiency, I doubted that God could even use me, even want to use me. Right now I feel sort of silly going on about this. But it is completely true. It is good and right to know who I am, my own sin and incapability to do awesome things. It is when I lose sight of who God is that it starts looking ugly. And that is what it is. My deeds are ugly without Christ at the center. There is always a root to a plant. Christ needs to be the root of my deeds.
I like how David in 1 Chronicles 29 asks, "Who are we that we could give so generously?" It is a privilege to give, to love, to serve, to do good deeds. It is something we have to be given, in a way. "Everything comes from Your hand." Everything we could possibly give to God was and is and will always be God's. The end. It is not a burden. God gives us so that we may give, and God wants us to desire to give. Giving is so like God. He wants it to be us, too.
I heard this phrase this week:
Pray Big.
I intentionally capitalized the 'big.' I think, in reading prayers from the Bible and Jesus' own prayers, that praying big is the way to go. When you ask God for something big, when you ask God for anything at all, it is really realizing God's character. He is the Giver. He is generous, and He knows what we need.
Okay, the cookies are done baking, so now I have to go to sleep. (:
Reading these verses this week was completely spontaneous. It has been something I have been reflecting on. My deeds and my belief, and how they happen to work together (if at all). It's so easy to know in my head. Of course they both must work together. It seems, on paper, so simple. But a few weeks ago it did not. I completely lost all joy in doing deeds (deeds meaning good, godly deeds like serving and sharing the gospel). It is even hard to explain now---it is half a realization of how insufficient I am, how so many times I do not have God's interest in mind. Another half, a doubting of who God is because, feeling my insufficiency, I doubted that God could even use me, even want to use me. Right now I feel sort of silly going on about this. But it is completely true. It is good and right to know who I am, my own sin and incapability to do awesome things. It is when I lose sight of who God is that it starts looking ugly. And that is what it is. My deeds are ugly without Christ at the center. There is always a root to a plant. Christ needs to be the root of my deeds.
I like how David in 1 Chronicles 29 asks, "Who are we that we could give so generously?" It is a privilege to give, to love, to serve, to do good deeds. It is something we have to be given, in a way. "Everything comes from Your hand." Everything we could possibly give to God was and is and will always be God's. The end. It is not a burden. God gives us so that we may give, and God wants us to desire to give. Giving is so like God. He wants it to be us, too.
I heard this phrase this week:
Pray Big.
I intentionally capitalized the 'big.' I think, in reading prayers from the Bible and Jesus' own prayers, that praying big is the way to go. When you ask God for something big, when you ask God for anything at all, it is really realizing God's character. He is the Giver. He is generous, and He knows what we need.
Okay, the cookies are done baking, so now I have to go to sleep. (:
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