Instead of Looking for You

I wrote this poem in March.
I really dislike explaining writing. I hope it can speak for itself. Mostly I do not want to tear it apart, or try to fit it into anything.
This is just a poem I wrote when I felt like my back was turned to God---when I knew I needed Him most but could feel Him least. I don't pretend like I understand everything. I had His Truth but it wasn't the life, in my mind, as it had been. I had not realized how hard to it I had become, how it also became monotonous. It never should be like this. His Word should break me down, should melt me, should satisfy. Instead of myself looking for God, He sought me.


Instead of Looking for You

I take to wondering about a light bulb. Again I see this, my eyes shifting
across like a doll’s; instead of looking for you, I position myself constantly staring
backwards into a drilled-out forest as it always disappears, dips
into fading snapshots. Grabbing
for a salty leaf or tearing branch,
or an arm. Sometimes I brood over a knot I could not solve
years before, instead of looking for you. I do whatever I can.
And after I’m done ripping paper or canning out messages,
the flames of a month ago tapping my shoulders still,
I remember.
I wonder how I could have fled from something full, something
real, someone
severed on a cross, still beating. When you find me
I am just a wilting fist of defense,
hardly human.

The lowdown (:

Here are topics, etc. for future blog posts...


My dove promise wrapper: "What would you attempt to do if you knew you would not fail?"

John 4: 34-38

marriage and covenants, book of Hosea

resurrection

Psalm 21:9, Malachi 3:2-4


Great stuff. More will come. Give your feedback and insights, you who read this. (:

I'm writing this partially because I feel...

guilt·y   [gil-tee] Show IPA
–adjective,guilt·i·er, guilt·i·est.
1.
having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong, esp. against moral or penal law; justly subject to a certain accusation or penalty; culpable: The jury found her guilty of murder.
2.
characterized by, connected with, or involving guilt: guilty intent.
3.
having or showing a sense of guilt, whether real or imagined: a guilty conscience.

I mean that lightly, first of all. This is just my second blog post this month, first of all, and it is already March 9th. New Year's resolution. I better get a move on.
Then again I do not want to write just anything. I want to write something people need to read (those who are actually reading this...). Actually, I've been learning a lot this year, and I have a few blog post topics I've noted places...all I need to do is to jot them down. It's mostly laziness than lack of material.

So now I shall write down another thing I have been dealing with: and that thing is actually guilt.

"Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives' tales; rather, train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come." 1 Timothy 4:7-8

"Beyond all question, the mystery of godliness is great..." 1 Timothy 3:16a

"This is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance (and for this we labor and strive), that we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, and especially of those who believe." 1 Timothy 4:9-10

I feel as if I put too much stock on myself. What can I do? How can I do this? It doesn't work that way. It can't work that way. I really like these words to a song:

"I'd be a liar if I did not say, you crushed my life and ruined me that day..."

If I am going to follow Christ, I can't have my preferences. It doesn't work that way. I can't have my identity in what I want---why should I look to a career or a relationship, or success---when Christ has paid everything for me, when God's spirit lives in me? It's crazy, crazy unbelievable that a holy, perfect, beautiful God would make his home in me. Really. I wish I could fully understand it. Even as I type this, even as you (if you know Jesus Christ and have accepted his gospel for your own life), in you, resides God's spirit. Why do I need a career? What do I need it for? When I die I do not think I will mutter, "I wish I went to Harvard. I wish I went to Juilliard. I wish I did this thing, or wrote that book, performed this piece." I do not think it will matter at all. I would rather look back on my life and say, "I gave it all." Not some. Not everything by my career---everything but where I go to school, how I use my time. Everything I spend for God's kingdom will be worth it, far far more than I can see right now.
There cannot be any guilt in my life. I have, literally, Jesus interceding for me, my life for his.

I stole this illustration from Faithwalkers. Watch from 1:17 to 4:47.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPHvLtitxug


"I'd be a liar if I did not say...thank you, thank you."

A mess for Panera discussion (:

At the Panera Bread in Jordan Creek mall they have something called "Artists on the Rise." For everything almost, visual artist, musicians, writers---I am thinking about applying. As a writer. My theme would be grief and loss, and I would want to give a talk...here is a jumbled mess. I don't even know why I'm posting this! Give me feedback if you make anything from this. (:

Grief and Loss

Literature and Emotions

emotion: an intense feeling. (i.e. concentration of feeling)
feeling: experience.

Classifying loss:
The Christmas Tree (movie, 1969) http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1800047601/info
"After a Great Loss a Formal Feeling Comes" by Emily Dickinson
"Dream Songs" by John Berryman
"A Grief Observed" by C.S. Lewis
"The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien

occurs in the conclusive scene---the logical consequence of a reasoning process.
time duration in two senses: one, that time has been spent and attention or affection aimed at a subject cut off; and two, that the loss was inevitable or logical.

Manifestations of loss:
Change
Death
Parting
Questions ("Why" I moan and rave)

Peace: freedom from disturbing thoughts or emotions
Disturb: to interfere, i.e. to change.
Peace: to be disturbed, moved, and settle again.

Love: to see through its enchantments and yet be not disenchanted.
C.S. Lewis AGO: "A masterpice of rediscovered faith which has comforted thousands."

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time. (T.S. Eliot)

Eureka (I have found)

Let it go.

~~
As I said, just a mess now.

more than conquerors

Romans 8:28-39

28And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. 29For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

31What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36As it is written:
"For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." 37No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

David Crowder Band's "Stars"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhayBSnG7Xk

you should see the stars tonight
how they shimmer shine so bright
against the black they look so white
comin down from such a height
to reach me now, reach me now

you should see the moon in the flight
cuttin cross the misty night
softly dancin in sunshine
reflections of this light
reach me now, you reach me now

and how could such a thing
shine its light on me
and make everything beautiful again

and you should feel the sun in the spring
comin out after a rain
suddenly all is green
sunshine on everything
i can feel it now, i feel you now

and how could such a thing
shine its light on me
and make everything beautiful

and you should hear the angels sing
all gathered round their king
more beautiful than you could dream
i've been quietly listening
you can hear 'em now, i hear em now

and how could such a king
shine His light on me
and make everything beautiful
and i wanna shine
i wanna be light
i wanna tell you it'll be alright
and i wanna shine and i wanna fly
just to tell you now
it'll be alright, it'll be alright
it'll be alright.

cus i got nothing of my own to give to you
but this light that shines on me shines on you
and makes everything beautiful, again.
it'll be alright, it'll be alright.

~~~

God is so good to me. Even in small things, but especially in the large things, in my eternity.
What can I say in response to this? God didn't spare his Son, he gave his very life for mine. Even now, right now...

“The truth is incontrovertible, malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end; there it is.” -Winston Churchill.
Whether I believe it in the moment, God, you are good.

Shtuff.

Okay. So I've been thinking about actions, motivation, (strange big word here), yadayada---basically, why do I think the way I think, do the things I do, want the things I want, say the things I say. I think I have been learning, this year, to distinguish more feelings and values and the will and commitment. What is going to keep me from wasting my life? Not to become pessimistic. Just realistic. And perhaps idealistic. Too idealistic. In a perfect world I would be---perfect. Baha. No, at least I would accomplish something that would last, do something that would not die, not just to create my legacy. Oh, God. I really need to learn to throw my own vision for my life out the door. My own dreams. "God shatters our dreams so we can find Him. Then He replaces our shattered dreams with His dreams for us," said Lutzer. So much of me, I know, needs to change, but I'm scared. Really scared. It's like ripping out my eyes. It is like standing naked in the middle of the mall. Ann Proulx, "We think of change as benign, but it chews some people up and spits them out." It's uncomfortable, and I love comfort. I sometimes cling to comfort.

John Berryman's Dream Song One

Huffy Henry hid the day,
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point---a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.

All the world like a woolen lover
once did seem on Henry's side.
Then came a departure.
Thereafter nothing fell out as it might or ought.
I don't see how Henry, pried
open for all the world to see, survived.

What he has now to say is a long
wonder the world can bear & be.
Once in a sycamore I was glad
all at the top, and I sang.
Hard on the land wears the strong sea
and empty grows every bed.

I am taking too long to think of a title for this, so...

"As Freezing Persons Recollect the Snow."

At the pointed setting sun I talk with you,
God, when my foot edges
the corner of a cold walkway, marking
the end of some season; now,
even, as my own mind, silky, grasps
of clear branches, tearing outward skies,
your arm swiftness,
swarms in these things,
like shouts
in this open, brightly.
Everything smells beautiful
at the point I will to turn, God,
myself laid into the bleeding sun, trembling
in it
delightedly.

For the rest of my life I believe you are good.

Against that upholstered, man-made
bench seat, hopping across
roads, face vibrating,
I knew. How near I actually
am to meeting skidded crusted cement.
How if release happens, it could only be a right.
Thin fabrications only hold my face
from being scraped.
Now even the floor is a blessing.

~~
Yes, of course it is another poem. (: