Thursday, September 29, 2011

Brokenness Redeemed

Brokenness surrounding me,
Taking hold of me.
I breathe it in,
I turn around,
And then I let it soak within.

Taken captive by the clutches
Of the sin that I behold.
It makes me cry
And then I die
Within this heart of stone.

I know that there is hope somewhere,
I feel it through my tears.
I try to figure out the mystery
Of what God calls forgiveness.

And yet I find within my life
The pain of others' souls,
And I am free; I'm free, indeed,
Yet others are left 'lone.

I have to empathize with them;
It's just what I believe.
I will be open, torn, and broken.
My sin, I'll let them see.

And maybe when I'm honest,
Maybe when they see me through,
They'll come to know how I still live,
And how my Savior wants them, too.

***Photo Courtesy of Stephanie Carmack***

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Reality Check: Jesus

The cross wasn't wreathed in purple flowers;
It wasn't painted white.
A fence was never built around it.
Jesus didn't smile; He cried.

Joyful tears, salt lacking,
Did not run down his cheek;
Blood dried and crusted on his skin--
On his heart--He still bleeds.

God did not smile upon our sins;
He turned His face away.
Darkness covered all the earth,
When Jesus' soul escaped.

The angels did rejoice, but, oh!
Through tears of joy with sadness mingled!
The demons thought that they had conquered;
And for a moment the whole earth stilled silent.

But then, through the stench, through the stained cloth,
Through the moist, the darkened tomb,
Jesus, the stone pushed back that held Him in;
The demons became silent.
From the DEAD,
Christ came ALIVE again!

And oh! the people were confused,
And the women shrieked.
They asked, "Who stole the body of our Lord?"
Yet the angels said, "Your Savior is alive! Why weep? Why mourn?"

And yes, Jesus spoke face-to-face with His people,
Though His face was tattered unrecognizable,
And no one could identify their Jesus
Until He claimed His name,
Until He showed His hands,
Until revealed the scars upon His feet.

Then they embraced Him;
But He pulled away,
And He gave a word of hope,
That though He must leave now,
A bitter, undesirable good-bye,
He would come again.

And indeed, He will come again.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

I wanna be moved by Something Real.

I wanna be moved by Something Real.
I want to feel the cool breeze blow across my face and not wonder why.
I wanna see life through my irises--
Blue Like Jazz--
And hear the music from the sunlight while its rays sing sunlight.
I wanna touch the untouchable--
Love the unlovable--
Hold the unholdable--
Taste the pure-sweet rain
And feel the impossibly green grass
Crisp and Crunch
Under my feet--
See beauty in that even its death leaves room for life, to spring
from the dirt.
Oh how I long to be MOVED
by Something Real!
To hear the fire crackle--
Screech, and scream, and cry,
"It's not okay!"
Honest--because it isn't.
I wanna see a kite fly--
High--high!--up in the wind!
Watch it dance,
Take it in,
And breathe.
Simply Breathe.
And feel alive.

I wanna be moved by Something Real.