Saturday, March 10, 2012

psalm 118:24

i cannot be afraid to be happy.
rather, i cannot be afraid to feel happy and afraid to be joyful
and when i have joy, i cannot be so anxious waiting for the joy to "go away" that i don't enjoy being "in" joy.
i will not let him take my joy.
i will not live in worry and thus not live.
i will choose joy. and if the other shoe drops, then i will joyfully catch it.
but i will not wait to be disappointed.
in any day that my God has made,
i will rejoice
and be glad
in it.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

ready

You say "the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few"
which implies that with eyes open i will see the suffering and the pain that surrounds each soul covered by flesh that i encounter on a day-to-day basis
ready to be plucked
or picked
or gathered from the field of the world and placed in the basket of Your kingdom.
You say.
You say "the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few"
meaning those ripe for the picking are screaming
picketing the current world around them
ready
to commit to a new union
done
with being used and reused
ruined and re-ruined by the field around them.
You tell me "they are ready".
am I?

dear words

hello friends! yes, i know, it's been too long. but i recently wrote a couple of poems and would like to post them somewhere. so here they go. i hope that you are all well. i'm learning a lot. God is very faithful and He's for me and wants me to grow. i hope that i can trust him enough to let Him work his will in me (in spite of my fears and my pride). for more on that, shoot me an email! but for now, some poems for your enjoyment (and feedback).

dear words

dear words.
i forgot how much i love you. you see
i'm so used to you taking the form of things tat overwhelm me and attempt to drown me.
my thoughts come in words - too many for me to handle, too much for me to process.
so i sleep
and play games
in hopes that they will run their course and run out of room on the page of my mind
but they never seem to use up all the canvas.
in the form of words, thoughts inform my emotions
emotions transform my thoughts
and now there are more words, more things that i don't understand that sit over in my mind.
it's too much.
dear words.
i forgot how much i love you. you see
i'm so used to you taking the form of self-condemning sounds and syllables that hammer away at my fragile self.
soft and affected. should i become hard against words that are voiced in my own voice against me?
nothing makes them go away.
it's as if i'm tortured by you.
by me.
by you.
dear words.
i forgot how much i love you. you see
because there's never enough time to express and get you out. there is only a small hole
like a sewing needle poked in a bottle filled with gallons and gallons of watery words that can only come out this tiny pen point.
there are too many.
and i am too harassed
by what i thought i loved.
what i do...love.
dear words.
i forgot how much i love you. you see
because i remember the way you allowed yourself to be manipulated by hurt and pain and used on me.
how you gave yourself to others so willingly to be thrown back at me
with meaningless "how are you"s and shallow statements about my earrings, when you had the power -
have the power
to pierce my heart.
dear words.
i forgot how much i loved you.
i forgot how much i love you still, you see,
because you have the ability to get me out of the bottle. out of the shallow
and in to the deep waters of a page.
you give me an out.
the way they come in is how i can release them. you are my friend too
available for my use
to combat the enemy words with my dear, dear words.
so with you, dear words, i must choose to express.
i must choose to fight those not-so-dear
words.