Three months since the day that he left
and I am sitting in
the home that I bought
nearly eight months ago
and now this home is empty,
literally,
almost bare
It never really felt right to begin with
and when he left it was
like I formed a physical repulsion
towards stuff, any stuff that did
not have meaning or purpose
or bring joy
And this home just became a house
the walls too thick,
the weight too much
When he left, I could not
do anything about it
I could only sit in the
sorrow like hot glue
and begin to pick up my
limbs, felt like a fly
stuck on paper
felt like an imposter
felt like my smiles were
painted on and at night
I’d feel them wash off
as the sobbing overwhelmed
my body, as the grief
filled out every part of me
and then there were days
where I was light all of a sudden
and the laughter felt real again
but then it felt wrong
and I’d have to convince myself
it was right
It is right to feel joy
even when you know pain
It is right to find relief
even when it will hurt again
It is right to slow down
and it is right to speed up
It is a balance between all things
it is a convincing that we are enough
In the moments where I could not stand to
breathe, I began to let go
and this letting go brought relief
this tangible giving up of things
feels like inching towards new life
When he left, it was like all
the boundaries of time were
removed and emphasized simultaneously
I wanted out, yet I wanted in
In on a life of full intentionality
out of the prison of my own recycled thoughts
in on an existence that does not depend on conformity
yes out of the pain, but I know by now that
the only way to go
is through it
So I have decided to feel,
to be present
I am taking solace in the saying that
all we have is now
because now I can be
And although now is not
always good, or even bearable
It is here
So I breathe, I let go,
I dig deep, I sow,
I wander, I think, I laugh,
I dance, I weep, I eat,
I sleep, I love, I learn,
I watch, I listen, I observe,
I read, I sing, I work
I am, here now
Let me just be
here now
Let me know deeply
that You are also
here now
and that although
he is not here now,
he is full now
Tag Archives: life
For the Love of God
For the love of God
Stop politicizing your faith
The God of the nations does not identify with your sides
The God of the galaxies is not concerned with your categories
For the love of God, stop speaking so much
sit in the discomfort of silence and examine your heart
Stop projecting, expecting more from others than you give yourself,
stop painting a picture of how you want to be seen
in a desperate attempt to rid yourself of guilt or prove your personal goodness,
stop denying, stop condemning;
You are not a righteous judge.
Human, think of the conflicts within yourself
the areas of your thinking and believing that
you cannot reconcile or redeem
Do you want reconciliation and redemption?
Surely, you will not find it within
you cannot go a few days with out
opposition and pain
You inflict problems simply by existing,
lay down your pride
And understand that you are not the answer
you are the problem.
You seek your own comfort over the well being of your neighbor
you focus on the materialistic, superficial, and transient
you make idols out of lust, money, dreams, and passions
you lie for your own gain, you love for your own satisfaction
Do you truly believe that a collection of your own thoughts and ideals would bring
hope to the most broken and desolate parts of your country, your world?
You have not defied death or disease,
You have not conquered the grave,
no, you are headed for death and on a
consuming path of destruction
Everything you can hold in your hand will soon rust,
and those intangible accomplishments that you identify with
Are of no greater value than dust
If you are remembered at all after you are gone from this earth,
you will have no knowledge of what they will say or believe
About who you were, or what you did
And if you knew, would that be enough?
You are not satisfied with the words that they tell you now,
their praise and approval does not remedy the ache and void inside of you
Human, each day your body is weighed heavy by the pressure
of aging, the elements of time and space are working together
To prove your fragility and your mortality
Do you see how great of a predicament you are in
with out Grace?
Apart from Christ, there is no good
There is simply fleeting pleasure and
hollow contentment
With out the atoning blood of Jesus
you are left to your own devices
to your own efforts,
emotions, disappointments,
successes, memories, mistakes,
futile attempts at building something that will last
that cannot last,
that will burn up and
if anything at all
simply and solely be a part of the
past
Human, sit with your soul
attempt to cradle the wounds and complexities
of this strange existence,
Slow down for a moment and face the
reality of the grandeur of the skies and
the smallness of your being
I choose the everlasting,
I choose the abundant life
the one that is not dependent upon anything that I have done or will do –
The one that is given full and complete meaning
because of the perfect life of a man,
who was and is God, who was killed
who bled vibrant, pulsing blood for the
nature of my being that
was enslaved by sin
but designed for communion
I live in wholeness now,
because of the breath that returned to his body
and the purpose that was restored to me –
completely and fully alive now,
no longer defeated by the daily
anxiety and hopelessness of the temporary
I live in truth now,
I can see the world for what is is now,
an aching collection of breathing bodies
and immortal souls that will not stop
killing, lying, stealing, fighting,
dying, mourning, crying, deceiving,
breaking, aging, enslaving, and groaning…
Until, the glory of God is revealed
And the nations are healed
and every tongue declares
Jesus; savior of the world.
How do I live now? I pursue Him now,
what does he require of me?
To do justice, to love kindness,
to walk humbly with my God
Have you grown weary yet,
of eating and never becoming full?
Of drinking, only to thirst again?
The hunger within you will
only be satisfied when you no longer
Eat of this world
For the love of God,
dismantle your pride,
turn your eyes
A Clanging Cymbal
I have learned that
being where you are
is often better than longing for the past
or dreaming about the future
The habit of thinking that you are always in the wrong place
will keep you from existing in the present
you will float six inches above the ground
never feeling the grass bend beneath your feet
or the sand in between your toes
or the tide rolling around your ankles
So, taste the food in your mouth before going for the next bite
when you look at the stars, let your eyes linger even if it is cold outside
Listen to the voices of those speaking to you with out preparing what you will say next
Pick one thing, not everything
Choose knowledge over ignorance,
compassion over convenience
Drink your coffee while it is still hot
Examine your motives and practice honesty even when it is partnered with discomfort
Identify rush and hurry as the enemies of quality and patience
When you are tempted to numb, feel instead
Ignoring pain, begets pain
Forgive and forgive and forgive again
Speak kindly to yourself and you will judge others less
Assume that all humans are made up of complex histories
diverse experiences, circumstances, thoughts, sufferings
not one identical to the other
Go outside
outside of your home, outside of your perspective, outside of yourself
Retire your expectations
Dismiss your pride
And begin to balance the notion that tomorrow is a new day,
but also tomorrow may never come
A juxtaposition of hope and impermanence
contentment and yearning
order and chaos
And in all of this you will need an anchor,
and that anchor is love.
Dissatisfied?
Your longing cannot be satisfied by a certain acceptance,
it cannot be extinguished by a set of belongings, a state of security,
or a romanticized relationship
In your most perfect day,
your best travels, your most loving moment of intimacy,
you will still yearn and the inmost part of your being will not
settle into contentment like you’ve convinced yourself it should
You will be constantly wanting, reaching, striving,
you will not find an eternal joy on this earth
Even the most serene moment is laced with sorrow
this life ends with death, as do most of our elated emotions
After health comes sickness
after community comes desolation
after prosperity comes lacking
after relief, another burden appears
Aren’t you exhausted?
Aren’t you afraid?
Aren’t you wondering why your best efforts are inadequate,
why your greatest pursuit turns up void?
The depth of God’s character can be made known to you,
the vast measures of his love can be made real to you
To no longer live with a crushed spirit,
to no longer bask in the temptation of self-pity,
or base your existence off of self-sufficiency, self-indulgence,
to no longer measure your worth with an underlying taste of self-depreciation,
self-abuse, or self-hate
If it is freedom you are after, take hold of this redemptive offering
The blood of Jesus gushing out for you like an ocean wave crashing at the shore
your name on his lips as he breathed his last breath
and your name on his heart when he rose to life after a brutal death
do not let this act of ultimate love be a fake tale or some far off history
entertain the thought that this might be the only reality
Will you be hindered by modern culture and mistakes of organized faith?
Will you be convinced by hidden pride that you are in control of your soul, your life?
December has been slathered in consumerism and nostalgia,
the months to follow, set-up on goals and priorities, which you will fail to keep
and continually misalign
the spring will come with movement and growth,
and you might miss the symbolism of all of creation coming to life again and
summer will distract with events and some type of temporary hope kindled by the heat
autumn will come and the leaves will change
and then it will be winter again, and when yet another year has come and gone
what will you have to say of it?
The years will pass,
you will age
you will lose the people you love and the money that you have saved
you will feel glaring moments of sadness, fleeting moments of joy
you will accomplish things that will soon be forgotten,
and you will build things that will rust and eventually be destroyed
What will you have left,
when all good things come to an end?
What will you have left,
when your body fails and you give up your last breath?
This is a plea to those I love,
to those I have yet to meet
Don’t waste this life when you could live
in the most tender care of a King
One who will transform your weakest attempt
into a miracle of grace and redeem your bruised body
to be an eternal reflection of his glory
Through out these days of living in a state of groaning,
I rest assured knowing
that I was made to be known and to be loved by him
and I was made to know and to love him
and this simple declaration satisfies every longing
it settles my soul, gives life to my bones
–
This poem was inspired by a sermon titled “The Wounded Spirit” by Timothy Keller, probably one of my favorite sermons ever. Listen to it here. Read it here.
Twelve Years
For twelve years the sun has risen
and the sun has set
there have been twelve hot green summers
turned into crisp and colorful autumns,
For twelve years we have gone forward
wanting to be where you have been
My fear, if left unattended
turns into a frigid tightness in my chest
I lay in bed pushing away thoughts of loss,
I can’t bring myself to believe in the false security
of his breath rising and falling next to me
I shut my eyes tight
but I can’t shake the feeling
that all good things are ending
that someday I might wake up
and later that day, have to fall asleep
with out him beside me
My dread, if not bolted down by hope
will come in the form of irritability
will settle in like a blanket of sorrow
an unwelcome uneasiness, lining the thought of tomorrow
My anxiety, turns from a raging ocean
into a steady bay
Sometimes the wind picks up,
but it won’t be long until I’m calm again
I have not been left in the casket of my fear, dread, or anxiety
Just like you have been given more life than I have ever known
the same God that has made you immortal,
removes the sting of death from me
I move through life with the thought of heaven
anchoring my heart and breathing peace into every part of me
If one believes that we don’t go on living,
then what would the purpose of these years, like mist, be?
My fear is not stamped out by worldly remedies,
it is healed by the design of a God who sent a savior to die for me
My dread and dissatisfaction only exist when I lose focus of His
grace and prominence
How humbled I become,
when I acknowledge my quickness to forget
that this world is only a shadow
and He has called me out of denial
I do not want to lose any more of the people that I love,
but how wonderful to rest in the assurance that those who have gone
are not actually lost
The world might label this faith as the loss of freedom
but I would argue to say that this is freedom at the core
to no longer be controlled by my fear of death,
to no longer rot in the depth of my selfishness,
to no longer allow sadness to consume my joy
to live in the liberty of a redeemed existence
followed by life eternal,
where there is no more death
or mourning, crying, or pain
There is no time to be wasted,
no time to hold onto bitterness or self-righteousness,
no time to ignore the way that rust eats and bodies age
There is beauty in everything if we submit,
but there is only pain if we reject
This life is just the in between
the race preparing us for the next
Twelve years are like a fleeting memory in comparison to eternity
twelve years, half of my lifetime at this moment
and I am not guaranteed one more day
Let the fragility of this life lead us to cling to the author of salvation,
let it guide us to love like there is no act of greater importance
The loss of you, revealed the greatest truth:
What is seen is temporary
What is unseen is eternal
Red Lettered Death
Inspired by John 12.20-36
Encouraged by John Piper, Dying as a Means of Loving
–
I’ve always known the red letters were sacred
and when I read them to myself I would try to deepen the tone
of my voice in my head, to make them sound more like Jesus
to make something or someone distant, feel a little closer
And in my dark moments of depression
when I clung to disobedience in fear that
following you would leave me more empty
I may have echoed the words of the Greeks at the feast,
“I wish to see you”
Many times I made the request,
Many times you revealed yourself and I turned away,
caught up in sorrow, persuaded by the need to save
To save someone on my own,
with my own strength
And in my elated moments of pride and false contentment,
I may have echoed those ancient words again
tossing my plea like a coin to a fountain
not knowing that your presence requires death
I remember the day that I committed to following you,
preceded by a lifetime of arguing, doubting,
surrendering and taking it back,
questioning, pondering, watching and waiting,
and finally saying
make me into something new,
take my life I give it to you.
I was a grain of wheat
fighting my fall to my death,
thank God for the moment that I finally gave in
I gave in to your grace and my death
led to Life,
I wish to see you Jesus
for who you are and not what I’ve made you out to be
I wish to know you Lord,
in the intricate ways that you have known and loved me
As you laid your life down for me,
teach me to do the same
Every day dying to self,
Heaven is my gain
As you shed your red blood for me,
spoken in red letters on paper to see
Dismantle my pride and obsession with
shortcomings,
Conquer my desire for earthly things,
put my selfishness to a red death
by a crucified King
Make me Like Mary
Inspired by John 12.1-11
–
Mary poured out her oil onto your feet,
your skin saturated and slippery
the fragrance of holiness catching the senses of
all in that home in Bethany
Lazarus was breathing again,
his life felt real and awake as he inhaled,
exhaled the glory of your existence
Martha could smell it from the kitchen,
where she joyfully wept while washing dishes
her heart raw from the death and life of her brother
could these days be compared to any other?
Judas, angry and appalled
why would so much value be
emptied, couldn’t one drop be enough?
It was not the poor he was worried for,
it was the selfishness of his own heart
I am Mary kneeling at your feet,
I am Lazarus brought to life by your mystery,
I am Martha weeping at the thought
of your sacrifice for us and submission to the cross
I am Judas, trying to get by
only giving you bits and pieces of my insufficient life
I am the crowd that came to see,
who you really were and what miracles were complete,
I am the skeptic and a sheep
You spoke for all to hear,
and you called me
Jesus, renew me
make me clean
I want to wave the palm branches and cry out to my King
Hosanna, Hosanna
Don’t let me forget
about your death
the time that you lived and died on this earth
Your resurrection soon to come,
but I will dwell on the darkness that you endured
to know the weight of your devotion
to gauge the magnitude of your wounds
to understand the capacity of your love for me
Make me to be like Mary
kneeling at your feet
“There I lay my sins and sorrows,
and, when weary, find sweet rest.
Sitting at the feet of Jesus,
there I love to weep and pray,
while I from his fullness gather grace and
comfort every day.”
Make me to be like Mary,
giving you everything I have and love,
keeping nothing from you,
resting my forehead on your anointed feet,
you have come to rise and to raise me
Make me like Mary,
kneeling at your feet
Because of a Mustard Stain
I missed you the most
when I put on your plaid denim shirt
looked in the mirror and saw a mustard stain in the reflection
It made me think of hot summer days and eating hot dogs
Visions of you laughing and stirring potato salad flooded my mind
and I wanted you to be here again
I wanted to run to the freezer in the back room and grab
a popsicle to soothe the flushed feeling that fell on my face
at the thought that you cannot be here again
Your absence brings an ache larger than a missing person
When you left here you took an entire era,
my childhood was wrapped up in your existence
showered with boston cream pies and birthday cakes
I want to give to others the way you gave
I want my home to be like yours
The beginning days with out you were sticky
and frozen together by winter air and an odd adjustment
to a different kind of living where my worries of you would be
extinguished by melancholy peace
The days ahead will be riddled with thoughts of you,
the desire to talk with you
I’ve been dreaming of you nearly every night,
reminded that you are now more than alive
let the reality of heaven steal away the gloom
the empty moments where I miss you
The knowledge of your state produces a
joy greater than pain
a fragrant contentment like the scent of your
leftover laundry detergent
Our apartment is now home to your old
windowsill plants,
They traveled with you from arlington to amissville,
back to arlington with me and soon to amissville
again they will be
Irony is alive in this life,
we go from child to later become childlike,
with the weakening of bones and the
deterioration of strength
You had so much fear but you
held fast to your faith
I believe I learned how to truly pray because of
my prayers with you
kneeling down beside your bedroom chair,
holding your hands in mine
hearing the heaviness of your lungs pulling in
a breath, and the most holy name rolling off of your lips
you would whisper his name “Jesus, Jesus”
you said his name like a friend,
like the comforter he is
and I would pray as your whispers became the chorus,
God let us see beyond circumstance
let us trust beyond capacity
let us be near to You more than anything
I learned that prayers when you are sorrowful,
prayers when you are sick, can be uttered with
desperation and met with surpassing peace
Just say the name, “Jesus, Jesus”
When you were overwhelmed with suffering,
body fighting the pull of death
My mother said that just as entering the earth is painful,
so is leaving it
The difference here is that the life to come after
won’t be one of peaks, highs and lows
No, the life that is to come is incomparable
I think God uses contrasts
He shows us the darkest pit to reveal the truth
of the most glorious heaven
On the night that you left,
my terrified anger mellowed out into a deep trust,
my husband said that we could do one of two things;
question why a good god would allow suffering like this
or thank our good god that it doesn’t end like this
Thank you Lord that this is not the end
Thank you Lord that you said “Come to me
weary and burdened, and I will give you rest”
We are weary and burdened, you will give us rest
She was weary and burdened,
you took her from this life to the next,
The heavens are rejoicing and
every sweet memory declares your sovereignty
To Be Yours
It’s a desire to be in more than one place at a time
not a fear of missing out, but a fear of time
The quickness of it, and the thought of am I doing enough?
being enough, loving well enough?
Never enough and that’s the core of it all
My actions don’t satisfy my debts, my words
don’t earn your approval
My life could decrease in works and increase in mess
and you’d love me all the same
I would make it work the other way, if I were God
I don’t have thoughts on my own that are anything like yours
My thoughts are like dark roads covered in black ice
waiting for a chance to sneak in and crash up the movement of sanctification
If I were God, I’d say
the better you do, the better you are
and that would be more comfortable, knowing that my merit is earned
but I am not God, thank God
Instead, you give freely
and I come up short
you meet me
I am most at peace when given the opportunity to sit on the couch
with books and your word, and a hot cup of coffee
and I also feel anguish in those moments with the knowledge that I can’t
stay in this place for as long as I want
and among the peace there is also torment
the wrestling of my flesh, I just want to be more like you
I am not a savior though, I am simply saved
Simple in the sense that your blood is real and covers it all,
I long for your truth and the shaking off of my hindered perspective
My perspective that is hindered by the daily anxieties that I hate that I have
when I admit the things that truly worry me I am ashamed
Uneasiness rises within me at the sole thought of moving from one place to another
travel, food, sleep, furniture, finance, any ounce of change
I’m embarrassed by the concern that causes my chest to tighten,
I hold my breath when you’ve given me reason to breathe
When conviction runs rampant in my anxious heart,
I am left feeling defeated and undone
I crave to get every single idea and event inscribed on my internal calendar
and carried out into eternity but I fail
I fail to accomplish the simple things, and I have always been
compelled by the complex
This is an admittance of guilt for things that I should rightly feel guilty for,
but you told me that to set my mind on the flesh is death,
and to set my mind on the Spirit is life and peace
and I want to live
I want to live in utter admiration of your character,
letting this knowledge of you lead me away from darkness
the shadows of my heart and the way it sets my mind up for failure
Let compassion be an enabling emotion, leading me to
serve you out of freedom and genuine care for others
Let each day be counted as good because of your work
already finished
And in my lacking let your fullness be
illuminated
Slow my internal discourse, my outward speech
make a symphony out of my discomposure
and let me hear your voice above it all
saying
“Child, you are mine and that is enough.”
Overwhelmed
Would I have been the one who hated you, who stood in the crowds and yelled?
Would I have been the one to judge you, to claim your ungodliness in the midst of your perfection?
Would I have been the one to disgrace you, to invite you to my home in an attempt to prove you wrong?
I want to see the depths of my unworthiness,
the grandeur of my sin,
I want to know it well and never forget it,
so that when I remember your mercy towards me
I will not take it lightly
So that when I think of the way you have redeemed me,
I will not be able to glance at another and have a single condemning thought
You said that you hate six things,
and I have done every one of them
I’ve been consumed by my arrogance,
seen myself as more important
I’ve been a part of a culture that consumes at the expense of others,
I’ve made my plans and drawn out my days, ignoring your truth and existence
I’ve spent years hurrying to my own depravity, running to a relationship
that perpetually produced brokenness and separation from you
I’ve breathed out lies, failed to speak truth, allowed rumors to thrive
I’ve been the cause of discord, hosted hostility in my heart and opposition in my words
Oh, how I need you
Every hour, every minute, I need you
The notion that I am not enough, will never be enough, will always come up short
is the most freeing conviction
In my desperation and weakness, your grace is sufficient
The concept that I could never do enough, achieve enough, work enough
is the liberation my soul desires
You have already finished everything I have yet to start,
you are the beginning, the end, and the most important thing in between
Oh, my soul is satisfied and wanting more at the same time
Do not let my distracted mind forget the crimson blood you shed for me,
Overwhelm my quickness to settle in the temporary with a vivid vision of eternity
Although I have yet to carve idols out of wood and stone,
I’ve set my eyes on things a part from you
This is an endless plea from my mouth,
let me see your goodness and not stray from it
I remember the wormwood and the gall,
and then I look to see your face
In your truth I am free from a life of bitterness,
In your love, you’ve eradicated my transgressions,
redefined my future, and justified my presence
Each new morning, I am met with your mercy
and it will carry me through every day
Silence is unwelcome here, in the light of your grace
Let this be a declaration of my hope in you,
let my words saturate the emptiness of life a part from you
let this be an invitation, like the one you’ve given to me
for any soul that is aching, to finally be redeemed
Old Has Gone
It is in the sweet moments of peace,
the swift glances of understanding,
the comfortable silence
It is in the slow mornings,
the continuous car rides,
the cups of hot coffee
It is in the smallness of this too large life
that I’m caught up in the awe of you
and the gratitude of knowing that you are for me always
It is in the change and complexity of this newness,
the melancholy movement of time,
the habits that are forming and the ones we’re trying to let go
It is in the subtle suggestions,
the casual reassurances,
the new notions and knowledge
It is in the consecutive days spent by your side
that I can dream of a whole life defined by goodness
and my past guilts and preconceptions slip into oblivion
and all of who I am is known by you, loved by you
This is a new kind of freedom, one that I thought impossible
this is a different kind of being, one that is aware but not condemned
and as the days go on in mundanity, or the years pass through us like a mist
my soul is solidified in the symbolism of this affection
The old has gone, the new is here
A Phone Call Love Poem
I’m getting married in forty-eight days, so I think it’s about time for a love poem…
I’m currently in another bout of “minimalizing”
Feeling hopeful and encouraged, desiring to fill out the parts of life that are lacking
and empty the parts that are overbearing
And then you call, I answer the phone to hear your voice
Inexplicably wonderful, the tone of your stringed syllables create comfort
You’re telling me about this new coffeeshop you have just discovered
In a place where we often speak of the voids, you’ve found something good
And you tell me how much I would like it
talk about the high ceilings, the marble countertops and the natural light
and you tell me that you want to take me there
and I say I want to be taken,
You can hardly catch your breath as you stumble through all of the details
that you want me to know before having to go
You’re miles from me and I miss you
and seeing you tomorrow is never soon enough
You’ve arrived and have to get off of the phone now
You tell me you love me and it’s believable
You are honest and I know you
and when the silence of my room begins to take over
and the faint music lingers to the left of me
and my room is a mess,
all I can do is thank God,
this God of the universe who has allowed me to know you
to adore you and to be admired by you
The world will tell me that I need more, that I don’t have enough
but you are my world and with you, I have everything
Let this gratitude of your presence be an everlasting decision
not a fleeting feeling,
you are more valuable, more tangible, more incredible
than my words could describe, or all of the world’s offerings,
you are more enticing than
any place I’ll travel
more precious than any amount of days I have ahead,
I’ll keep on answering your calls, my dear
and I’ll love you for all of my days, my dear
more and more and more
I knew the days would become long,
when I desired them to be short and the nights
would become a canvas for anxieties and to-do lists
I knew the time would run too quickly,
even when i begged, “slow down, slow”
Now I’m waiting for my time,
for desires to turn into decisions and
dreams to reality
and potential to finale
Now I’m holding on to sanity,
like a child clutching a sad stringed balloon
but I am not meant for weakness
when I realize the truth
only in my morality am I alone
only in my world am I abandoned
and you who said there are better things to live for,
you’re wrong
and you who said,
that I didn’t know what I was striving for,
you might be right
unending words,
tied together by fish hooks
take the hand of a devil
red skin and emptiness,
take the hand of a savior
soul mysterious, with round eyes
Even with my knowledge of the upcoming change,
I couldn’t have anticipated the sinking sorrow
I couldn’t have guessed the nearness of
tomorrow
and the next
books and citrus,
curling papers and crinkling toes
vinyl records and burnt passions
this life is made up of perception and music
spoken in conversation,
drained by temptation
to live “normally”
more and more and more,
it’s not enough for me, no
Accepting This 