How foolish I am to be so blind to my needs.
Too often I put my head above Yours,
and turn my face from You.
I seek refuge apart from You,
and I set my tent in fields far from You.
My mind wanders aimlessly amidst its futile ways;
my heart is stranded in desolate ground.
It is then that Your loving Hand
reaches down and opens my eyes.
Along many paths do I chase,
but on my own I cannot find my way.
How arrogant and foolish I am,
my pride consumes me.
Tired and weary, I surrender
and fall at your feet.
Tears may well and fall,
and sadness may weigh heavy.
But how blessed I am
to have my needs set clearly before me.
To know that You are my Source, my only Strength.
Nowhere else can my dependence be.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
With Thanksgiving
Oh Lord, my God,
I am wretched, rebellious, and arrogant
but I may come and bow down at Your feet?
How loving you are!
My filth laid down before you in heaps and piles,
all taken away and forgotten.
How merciful you are!
My broken body, mind, and heart
washed and mended oh so well.
How gracious you are!
My soul made alive by Your Spirit
able to reflect Your beauty.
How wonderful you are!
My wants and my desires
transformed according to Yours
How sovereign you are!
I am wretched, rebellious, and arrogant
but I may come and bow down at Your feet?
How loving you are!
My filth laid down before you in heaps and piles,
all taken away and forgotten.
How merciful you are!
My broken body, mind, and heart
washed and mended oh so well.
How gracious you are!
My soul made alive by Your Spirit
able to reflect Your beauty.
How wonderful you are!
My wants and my desires
transformed according to Yours
How sovereign you are!
by prayer and petition
My Comforter,
you know the ache of my heart
that comes from regret of the bad.
My Source,
you know the agony of my heart
that comes from missing the good.
My Sovereign Lord,
take it all, the bad and the good,
redeem and restore
so that You are most glorified.
Your will be done in me.
you know the ache of my heart
that comes from regret of the bad.
My Source,
you know the agony of my heart
that comes from missing the good.
My Sovereign Lord,
take it all, the bad and the good,
redeem and restore
so that You are most glorified.
Your will be done in me.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thank You
oh Lord my God,
I want to dwell in my doubt
I want to flee my fear
I want to damn my depravity
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
You do not sit in idleness
You do not runaway
You do not withhold mercy
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
You draw near and intoxicate me with your peace
You surround so that you are all that I can see
You love in order to redeem and renew
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
I hope
I surrender
I repent
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
Glory to You always and forever. Amen.
I want to dwell in my doubt
I want to flee my fear
I want to damn my depravity
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
You do not sit in idleness
You do not runaway
You do not withhold mercy
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
You draw near and intoxicate me with your peace
You surround so that you are all that I can see
You love in order to redeem and renew
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
I hope
I surrender
I repent
You comfort, You keep, You forgive
Glory to You always and forever. Amen.
paved roads
My mind is taking me down the road of time. The road is paved with regret. We are driving backwards. We wave good-bye to apathy and his faithless friend. We turn our heads away from arrogance who sits on the front porch of selfishness.
We stop and get out and run through love-filled fields where stocks of joy, peace, and hope grow.
But it's not the same. Why would it be without our heart? So we look for it and find it. It sits at the end of the road. The road that is paved with regret. Why did we pave this road so? And how do we keep from driving on it?
We drove away from it in order to drive forward without it. But go any further back and we will encounter it. Look ahead through the past and it's all we can see. Where to go, I do not know.
Lord, please take me somewhere.
We stop and get out and run through love-filled fields where stocks of joy, peace, and hope grow.
But it's not the same. Why would it be without our heart? So we look for it and find it. It sits at the end of the road. The road that is paved with regret. Why did we pave this road so? And how do we keep from driving on it?
We drove away from it in order to drive forward without it. But go any further back and we will encounter it. Look ahead through the past and it's all we can see. Where to go, I do not know.
Lord, please take me somewhere.
line 7
line 1. i wanted the Best for him. he wanted the Best for me.
line 2. i wanted me for him. he wanted him for me.
line 3. i wanted him. he wanted not me.
line 4. i wanted the best for me. he wants the Best for him.
line 5. i want the Best for me. i want the Best for him.
somewhere between lines 1 and 2 me and him became the best.
somewhere between lines 2 and 3 i stopped wanting anything for him.
somewhere between lines 3 and 4 the best came back, in its two different forms.
somewhere between lines 4 and 5 hindsight brought me back to line 1.
somewhere between lines 5 and 6 nothing changed.
somewhere between lines 6 and 7 there entered a lot of not yet known.
line 6. i want Him to take lines 1-5 and rewrite them however He wants.
line 7.
line 2. i wanted me for him. he wanted him for me.
line 3. i wanted him. he wanted not me.
line 4. i wanted the best for me. he wants the Best for him.
line 5. i want the Best for me. i want the Best for him.
somewhere between lines 1 and 2 me and him became the best.
somewhere between lines 2 and 3 i stopped wanting anything for him.
somewhere between lines 3 and 4 the best came back, in its two different forms.
somewhere between lines 4 and 5 hindsight brought me back to line 1.
somewhere between lines 5 and 6 nothing changed.
somewhere between lines 6 and 7 there entered a lot of not yet known.
line 6. i want Him to take lines 1-5 and rewrite them however He wants.
line 7.
From a mess-maker
shit, there's a mess,
and misunderstanding made it messier.
a mess of hearts broken by selfishness, arrogance, and apathy
leaving stains of regret and doubt.
apology and forgiveness to remove the regret.
fixing and healing for the doubt.
they might be in the same mess,
but they require two different solutions.
but when they're jumbled together,
how do you treat them separately?
the one that is in time does what she can
for the stain that can be treated in a unit of time.
the One that is out of time does what He can
for the stain that must be treated over time.
and misunderstanding made it messier.
a mess of hearts broken by selfishness, arrogance, and apathy
leaving stains of regret and doubt.
apology and forgiveness to remove the regret.
fixing and healing for the doubt.
they might be in the same mess,
but they require two different solutions.
but when they're jumbled together,
how do you treat them separately?
the one that is in time does what she can
for the stain that can be treated in a unit of time.
the One that is out of time does what He can
for the stain that must be treated over time.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Trust
"Excuse me sir," she broke the silence in the cafe with her long, Southern-belle draw, "how far away is that McDonalds?"
A shaky "Hello dear Paul," came from an aged, dark skinned woman who looked like she would take anyone home and fill their stomach with collard greens and chitlins. "Your pour soul was here before I left for Virginia. Still haven't been able to make it home, huh?"
"Not yet, mam, not yet. Just seventeen dollars shy is all. It'll come," said his voice. His sinking eyes and long face told a different story. When her eyes met his, she knew it was right.
She pulled out the twenty dollar bill from her purse. It was folded many times over. It had been with her many days and many miles, but she knew it was all for this. It had came to her when she appeared down and out as a blessing from a generous, trusting man. She knew that was the only way this dollar bill could ever be given away. And although it had landed in her hand under false pretenses, she hoped it would not leave her hand under the same.
But she needed to take her turn as the trusting one. And so she did.
It left her hand and met his. And now his face and hands and feet told another story. His mouth opened and no words came out. His hand grasped the money tightly. His feet turned and marched onward much like a train barreling full steam ahead.
She didn't know if he was about to break through the depot doors in full stride to the nearest liquor store or if he was actually heading to the ticket counter. She thought to herself, "well that was that." Then she spotted his bag and coat sitting in the booth across from her. In a few minutes time, he returned for his things with a ticket in hand and a smile hung ear to ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he cried.
Her heart rose in her chest due to the trust and hope that was swelling within.
"Hey, why don't I run down to that McDonalds before your bus comes. It's the least I can do to say thanks. If you just give me a few dollars, I'll be back in plenty time before you're headed to DC."
He put on his jacket, took her money, and left his bag and his ticket. He never came back for it. And she got on the bus much more aware of her full heart, not her empty stomach.
"Oh it's just over the bridge and four blocks up," he replied. His voice was true but tired. "When does your bus leave?"
"Just under an hour from now. I'm catching the 6:15 to DC."
"Well you should have no problem making it back in time, it's just a ten minute walk. And you'll be able to stretch your money a whole lot further there than you will here. This whole place is starting to get to me. I'm trying to move on, but I've been stuck here three, long days."
His name was Paul, and his story was puzzling. A tale of unfortunate events had left him there eight hours from home, seventeen dollars short of a bus ticket with no credit card and no family to help out.
A shaky "Hello dear Paul," came from an aged, dark skinned woman who looked like she would take anyone home and fill their stomach with collard greens and chitlins. "Your pour soul was here before I left for Virginia. Still haven't been able to make it home, huh?"
"Not yet, mam, not yet. Just seventeen dollars shy is all. It'll come," said his voice. His sinking eyes and long face told a different story. When her eyes met his, she knew it was right.
She pulled out the twenty dollar bill from her purse. It was folded many times over. It had been with her many days and many miles, but she knew it was all for this. It had came to her when she appeared down and out as a blessing from a generous, trusting man. She knew that was the only way this dollar bill could ever be given away. And although it had landed in her hand under false pretenses, she hoped it would not leave her hand under the same.
But she needed to take her turn as the trusting one. And so she did.
It left her hand and met his. And now his face and hands and feet told another story. His mouth opened and no words came out. His hand grasped the money tightly. His feet turned and marched onward much like a train barreling full steam ahead.
She didn't know if he was about to break through the depot doors in full stride to the nearest liquor store or if he was actually heading to the ticket counter. She thought to herself, "well that was that." Then she spotted his bag and coat sitting in the booth across from her. In a few minutes time, he returned for his things with a ticket in hand and a smile hung ear to ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he cried.
Her heart rose in her chest due to the trust and hope that was swelling within.
"Hey, why don't I run down to that McDonalds before your bus comes. It's the least I can do to say thanks. If you just give me a few dollars, I'll be back in plenty time before you're headed to DC."
He put on his jacket, took her money, and left his bag and his ticket. He never came back for it. And she got on the bus much more aware of her full heart, not her empty stomach.
Friday, November 13, 2009
everyday well
She met him at the well--the well where she went everyday.
And everyday she left with a basin full of water and everyday she knew she would return the next and everyday she left fearing the day she wouldn't.
But she went there today and she met him there and she left without fear and she knew that everyday she would return and that everyday she would leave with her basin overflowing.
And everyday she left with a basin full of water and everyday she knew she would return the next and everyday she left fearing the day she wouldn't.
But she went there today and she met him there and she left without fear and she knew that everyday she would return and that everyday she would leave with her basin overflowing.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
her story. His story
Her Father led her into a magical forest and guided her to the gates of a castle. A few skips from the entrance, rocks had been stacked and white pillars erected, creating a perfect seat to rest before venturing through the gates.
Her widened eyes greeted her throne with gladdened bewilderment. "How did Father prepare this spot for me? He was holding my hand the whole way here?"
After taking her perch, her fingers guide her red dress over her knees, and she breathed a regal breath.
This sight kindled fondness in his heart that spread a smile across his face. "Let's make up the story of the young princess who enters a magical forest and finds her castle. What will be the name of your prince and the color of his hair and how will your monster growl?" Each response came from a spark in her mind and left a glisten in her eyes.
She filled in the details of the story her Father's foreknowledge had already written. And she continued to think she was writing a story all her own.
Her widened eyes greeted her throne with gladdened bewilderment. "How did Father prepare this spot for me? He was holding my hand the whole way here?"
After taking her perch, her fingers guide her red dress over her knees, and she breathed a regal breath.
This sight kindled fondness in his heart that spread a smile across his face. "Let's make up the story of the young princess who enters a magical forest and finds her castle. What will be the name of your prince and the color of his hair and how will your monster growl?" Each response came from a spark in her mind and left a glisten in her eyes.
She filled in the details of the story her Father's foreknowledge had already written. And she continued to think she was writing a story all her own.
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