Love Breaks the Tension

We have seen better days
When the dawn wasn't gray
We have seen brighter nights
When the moon would smile

Stars do look down dimly
From the cold night sky
And the sun does slip away
Too soon to end another day

Stone men gain control
With iron fists of greed
To gain hold of all things
Never called their own

Rulers fight to rule each other
and beggars plead for alms
Of cloth that withers in dust
And gold that melts away

Why do good men falter
And get knocked down?
Why does goodness fail
And turn a blind eye?

They say time heals all things
Or it grows a calloused heart.
Will the soul find ways to mend
Or be left to fall apart again?

Where can faith be found
In a heart filled with pain?
What can hope hold on to
When a wound won't heal?

Love breaks the tension
From battles raging on and on
Over souls caught in shadows
Of death and hope and life.

Blood has been poured out
To heal the pain of broken men
And flesh was torn apart
To bring us back to life again.

Redemption is found in a shadow
Of a cross that held a man
on a hill covered in crimson blood
And drenched in men's sins

A grave is left open and undone
And salvation is made known
To all who will kneel down
And choose to be made whole.

A Prayer for Dissatisfaction

Set me on fire, oh God, so that I may burn against the night.  I don’t want to just carry a flame.  I want to be a torch, that might lead others out of darkness. 

What words can I convey to explain the passion burning in me?  I don’t want an experience that fades away in a moment of emotion- I want a radical transformation at the very core of who I am.  I am longing for the deep that calls to deep, that compels me to long even more. 

I do not long to be satisfied.  No, I want to thirst, so that I may become more thirsty.  I want to drink of Your presence hoping to only come back for more.  Let me be part of this fellowship of the burning heart.

No human expression explains the paradox of this deep longing that is never satisfied, yet it is the very dissatisfaction that I am drawn closer to You. 

Fulfillment would only end the pursuit that keeps me longing, growing and desiring more.  It is a desire for holiness that can only be found through fire.  Touch me with coal from that fire, cleansing me, the very part of me I have grown to hate. 

Let Your holy fire burn every part, all that gets in the way of pursuing You and giving all to You. I pray to remain dissatisfied with the now, the present, the current.  Let me remain dissatisfied with holding on to a fleeting moment of spiritual passion. 

Let me continue to long for the journey that takes me though the valleys, through the mountain tops, through the storms, and through the rain.  For this moment is only a glimpse of what awaits.  

This moment is only a whisper from the Voice that calls to me.  I do not want to be satisfied with this moment,  for in this moment, I see what lies beyond.

Symphony of the Sea

The sun casts its shadow across surface of the water
As the waves dance across the face of the sea

The tide keeps pressing forward as if in a trance
And the wind moves through the mist and breeze

The clouds float along an invisible sapphire ocean
Held by an unseen puppeteer stringing them along

The sandy glass glistens, shattered on the ground
Water erasing impressions left on the ocean floor

Nature hurries along as it begins its beautiful ballet
The arena is being set for the audience’s arrival

The Grand Star lights the stage of the crystal sea
Setting the creation show and symphony for all

Creatures dive and glide along, performers in a play
The theater of the deep created to be their artistry

Orchestra of the wind and the roar of the waves
Play music for all who will stop to listen for them

Harmony like no other, a mesmerizing masterpiece
Surfonic melodies create the music of the Conductor

The glory of the sound of the wind and the waves
Crash and move majestically for all to see and awe

The people stand and applaud with their voices
Awed by the majesty of such a spectacular display

Slowly the crowd slips away into the night’s sky
As the sun goes to rest and the waves fade away

Performers settle down for the quiet of the night
Eagerly waiting to sing and to come alive again

Can You Be Free?

So Calloused is
A heart of stone
That once was
Soft as a pillow

Can you be free?
When you don’t
See your heart
Has grown cold?

And Broken is
A soul of glass
That once was
Pure as snow

Can you be free?
When you don’t
Care that you
scar  injured souls?

Your hate is strong
Like a bitter sea
That rages on
No land in site

Can you be free?
When you don’t
Hear your words
Break her heart?

Your soul dies
As time consumes
What is left of you
Or what used to be

Can you be free?
When you don’t
Realize that you
Are no longer you?

You have chained
Your broken heart
To the lingered pain
That no longer is

Can you be free?
If you die alone
Because of pain
That used you?

The Stream

Slowly trickling down,
Each drop chases the next.
From a wooden Cross it flows,
Into the Holiest place.

Indeed a pleasing Sacrifice,
A pleasant sweet perfume.
Filling the Holy of Holies,
An offering has been made.

Born Out of a Love Lost,
Found in agony gained.
A Cost We could not bare,
A Price He willingly paid.

Redeeming the heart of man,
Bringing us back to Him.
Not of works our own,
But through his precious Grace.

So now we can freely enter,
Through this Veil torn in two.
Through a crimson stream of blood,
Where we are made whiter than snow.

Tragedy of the Divine

Violent thunder rolls across the sky

As lightning breaks the midday darkness

Revealing the pain of the Rejected One.

Wincing with agony as the Father looks away

Hanging there, Suspended between Heaven & Earth

Knowing only sorrow, pain, and anguish

They would be His alone to bear

For no one stayed with Him that day.

The Tragedy of the Divine

The sinless One bore the weight of death

Taking to himself our wretchedness

As the Father turns His face away

The weight of sin and shame He took

For which we could not bear ourselves

Placed upon Himself what He did not deserve

Giving us the freedom we did not earn

The tragedy of the Cross of Calvary

is not the death of the man on the Cross

But in the rejection by the ones

Not receiving this gift born of suffering.

A Reappearing

Strained in a desert wind, blown about by desires;

Cries from the heart, buried deep in their soul,

Not met by love they have truly long for.

This life lived filled with sorrow and regret;

Of a life imagined, but never fulfilled,

Only to be left blind again and again.

Dreams once thought too good to be true

Pursued by hallowed passion set on fire

Drowned in the tears of their doubts.

Hearts ache and nations cry over the silence,

Of the sacred vision cut short this night,

Vanished in a flash of hatred and rage.

Chasing holy hopes of a larger promise of life

Succumbing to fallen men in desperate shame

Inadequate to change the passage of time.

Spirit cries out to the empty pain of lonely men

Looking for something to set them free

From chains shackled to the heart long ago.

In this savage journey of sin, hell, and shame

Comes across their path, the Sacred Text.

Redemption is awaiting their arrival.

North Tenth Street

The following is an excerpt to understanding the poem that follows the story-

"As I sat there, I felt like the little kid again, whose feet couldn't quite reach the ground yet, sitting on a bench. As i sat there I talked with her about all the exciting things going on, from youth ministry, to moving, to future plans, dreams, goals, concerns, worries, and hopes. As I lamented on memories past and dreamed of new memories to be made, she always listened.

She always spoke of love, and mercy, of hope and faith. She cherished her family, and loved her God. She not only spoke of it, but lived it as well. She dreamt of a day she would run again, see Jesus face to face. She spoke with such compassion her concern for those who did not know Jesus, who did not know peace. But her life and words worked together, never bringing doubt to her sincerity for her faith.

I still can hear her speaking to me. In those moments when I doubt, she's encouraging me. In those moments when I am excited, she celebrates with me. In those moments I am alone, I can still here her saying its going to be ok. And in those moments when I just don't know what to do, her wisdom speaks even now, in my heart, and in her life.

And when I stand to worship Jesus, she is worshipping too, seeing him face to face. For we still worship Him together

As I get up off the bench, I remember these things. And I cherish them all"

(Above was written in 2006, below is written 2011)

NORTH TENTH STREET

On a bench by a a little tree
We find our distant memories
Of children laughing suddenly
And crying all night long.

Where peace has settled down
Among the dried up leaves
Still lying on the broken ground
Rustling in the wind.

Where sorrow crosses paths
With inspiration that moves us,
Spurred on by passion and pain
That brought us here.

We hear the quiet voices
Whispering to us a holy calm
To the aching, beating hearts
Longing for someone to love.

Bittersweet stillness reminds us
Of what we once had, but lost;
In what is left of this life
We hold to an eternal home.

Distant sounds of laughter sing,
Ringing in our wounded souls,
That remind us again and again
Of our only Hope found in joy.

We see the stories of yesteryear
Playing in the sacred memories
Of thoughts of so long ago
That still linger on and on.

-----

In a field of grass and trees
Is a stone bench by a monument,
A solemn reminder that we long,
Long for something more.

Its found on a quiet side street
Were the sun shines down,
Filled with stories never told
And memories never shared.

Grace Revisited

Strung up in mid-air

They all hang there

Dangling like a leave

Destined to fall

Down below they see

No net to catch their fall

Simply rocks and stones

To break them apart

Deserts and sun surround

They look around

For hands outstretched

To save their fall

Too many broken hearts

weeping saline tears

Looking around to find

No hope of salvation

They cry aloud together

But none hear each other
Lonely is the only sound

Found in the echo

Why no lended hand

To the broken men

Who cry out loud

Yet no one hears them?

Why only lonely hearts

That break at night

Against the dark sky

And the jagged earth?

If only grace appears

By your outstretched hand

To the empty hearts

On death’s open door

Were we not broken

Holding out no hope

Dangling by a thread

Lamenting our demise?

Were we not kept

By an unseen hand?

Grace extended to us?

A Cross reaching out?

Then we should too

Reach out to those

with a wooden Cross

To save their souls

A Wanderer's Lament

This journey I have wandered
Is down a road not taken,
For this way is left undone,
Left for me to pave a way.

A voice calls out to greet me
In the memories I hold on to,
Pressing through tragedies
As I travel this foreign path.

This way knows no comfort,
 For sorrow is my company,
Along the crooked highways,
That never have an end.

And as I go through this valley
And pass though this dessert,
I lament my wearisome ways
In tears that will never shed.

Pity has my companionship
And worry travels with me,
Seeking fast for the things
I never knew I had lost.

Until now.

Felt In a Moment

Blades of grass
Will bend in the wind
But for a brief moment
And a faint whisper
Is so softly spoken
Then is no more

Life is a journey
Lived in an instant
On the canvas of time
We are but a glimpse
Amid a thousand flames
Flickering for a moment

We are the tension
Lived in the fallout
Of choices we make
Left to be rendered
And lost to existence
From all that’s at stake

We are all so frail
Ready to fracture
In autumn and fall
For we still wound
From the entropy
Left from the fall

Yet Love is eternal
Found in Redemption
And we are the heirs
Of grace in the infinite
That was felt in a moment
That saved us all.

Raining Again

I see it’s raining again,
At least I notice now.
It’s not that I cared;
But I care enough now
To know that, again
I’m trying too hard,
Or not trying enough.
I don’t want to stand,
I’ll just try to crawl,
To make sense of it all.

These things that I do,
The words that I say,
Or try to say that is,
They are not enough.
Are they ever enough?
Making sense of this,
This being whatever it is.
And that’s the problem,
I don’t know what this is;
I have never been told.

On roads wandered down,
I’ve seemed to take a turn,
Down a path unmarked,
On the other side of life.
So I set off from here,
On my own once again,
Lost on a way travelled,
By those who never know
The other way around.
Did I miss something?

So as I go from here,
Turning to look back,
Please don’t be there.
I don’t want to guess
Which way to go again,
Every way seems wrong.
Was I lead down here,
Or did I stray by myself?
Tomorrow’s a million ways
For me to get lost again.