Poison

Save me.

Oh God, save me. From this poison that I drink. 

From what he did and what she said 

and how it’s killing me instead.

Heal me.

Oh God heal me. From these wrongs I cannot right.

From this murder I conspire

from this evil I desire

Hatred looks me in the eye, swears to me he’s on my side…

He’s the only one… the only one who cares for me.

But as he whispers in my ear, 

he plunges a sword in my belly… 

yes, he plunges a sword in my belly 

and blames the one I see…. 

the one I see with misery 

And how I believe him. 

Silly me, how I believe him.

Hold me.

Oh God, hold me; all I do is vomit blood.

blood stained tears and bitterness

the things I just cant put to rest

But the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; 

His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; 

great is Your faithfulness

Hello, stranger.

You made me smile, unexpected kindness in an apathetic world, unprecedented warmth among cold people. Such a sense of being deliberate, yet nothing to connect it to. No one’s looked at me like this before. No… no romance, no attraction, nothing like that… but a peer into my heart… I wonder what you saw?

Yes, I felt something with you today. 

And will you now say goodbye?

I walked the same street I always walk, from the mundane job I lend my brain to for 8 1/2 hours, to the same brown apartment building, with nothing on my mind but the show I recorded for tonight, and the fact that today, is Thursday… the weekend, meager as it, is in sight.

Yes. Yes, that’s my wallet. thank you… I didn’t realized that I dropped it. You may not know this, but for this second, my routine was disrupted… Because I don’t know. I don’t know what hope is. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know what’s beyond my world that’s so small and so not even about me. So what’s your deal? You have in hope in you? You have answers?

 And will you now say goodbye? And will you now just walk away?

Do you feel that war waging inside you? When time slowed down and you realized that at this moment all of heaven peered on you and I, that the blur of the crowds of thousands of people walking on the brink of death brought your focus to me, do you see me beyond my language, my color, my occupation, or mood? Do you see me with the same eye that He saw you with? Was this homeless, Jewish man culturally irrelevant to you? A source of embarrassment? Do you see Him as a mere byproduct of your American culture, surely incompatible to an Asian woman like me? Is He just a man? Does He love me?

Does He love me?

Does He love me?

Does He love me?

What price will must I pay for your embarrassment, over your fear of my rejection, over your adherence to cultural ideals? 

My soul?

Is love just politeness to you? A dollar to a homeless man? A smile to a tired woman? And open door to a crippled man? 

How will I know unless someone preach to me? How will I believe if I do not know?

Will you now say goodbye?

Will you now say goodbye?

Goodness and Mercy

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life…” Psalm 23:6a

When we read this text, where are our hearts? do we expect coming days of prosperity? Do we look for our physical well being to defy the rest of creation that groans? Do we seek an exemption to death itself? Our God must be BIGGER than these things. For to ask God to fit goodness and mercy within the human definition of it is below His character. Goodness and mercy are in the here and now. They are even in the things plague us because those things drive us to Him. Goodness and mercy are in our ailments because those things set our hope in the eternal. Broken hearts are earmarks of those who Jesus said are poor Spirit… to those that Jesus has given the kingdom of Heaven. Goodness and mercy is in the knowledge of God, the gift of His eternal presence we will one day enjoy fully, with no need of faith, as our very beings will be devastated by His majesty. 

Do not believe this text is merely of a future earthly situation better than the one you have now. God is bigger than this. This text is for the here and now and the “forevermore.”

“… and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

Today, I heard Him say,

"Make no mistake; I will pour My grace over your failures like the majestic waterfall before you. 

But crowns I give to the victorious."

"Heel-Catcher"

The first  stage is denial, right? Well denial looks, sounds, and feels different to everyone…  ...to someone who is an expert at denying things, the denial doesn't even seem present. One of these days I’ll learn to slow down at the slopes and dips and not take them full speed ahead. 

New seasons. Well, if it’s true, it’s starting out kinda rough. And I’m sure there’s a promise in that… The sky is darkest right before dawn. This will not compare to the joy before me. I get it.

And it’s probably true. 

But I feel like crap right now.

But… 

But Sovereignty. 

But God.

All of this is but how the chess pieces move. The means to accomplish a good end. The only way I’d learn. Yeah, there’s sarcasm there, and that’s because I’m a cynical piece of work. But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe it. And I know I believe it… My heart beats at the thought of the plan of the Most High King coming to fruition. I’m thrilled to be a part of it. 

Its the whittling, shaving, breaking, re-shaping part I want nothing to do with… But He will win. I will surrender, and though part of me will fight until the bitter end (and lose), the other part of me can’t wait. 

I can’t wait until God changes my name.

Orual

Sometimes I feel as if eloquently describing emotion, wrapping it in a bow, and sealing it with poetic words of articulate wisdom somehow qualifies it. 

If I can talk about the realest crap in me in the most thought provoking way that somehow allows people to peer into their souls and ask themselves why they never thought of describing that state in that way themselves, then I have mastered the state, its emotions, and ultimately its course of action.

Stupid, huh? Or maybe not. Who knows and who cares.

 So apparently I never learned how to not be frustrated at myself. My “inner dad,” if you will, is nothing more than carbon copy of the mere man who taught me how to hate myself. Why are our minds so fragile? A design corrupted, a process gone wrong. Even in this, You are here, aren’t You?

So now what. I’m tired of running, sick of crying. I refuse to die, but I’m too weak to fight. This sip is too hot and too bitter, and I won’t swallow.

Yet I will swallow this drink, that my life may learn to become a drink offering. 

I will overcome biology. 

To the bitter end, I will fight.