Thursday, July 31, 2008

Smoldering Wick

A smoldering wick...
what once was bright and flaming
smokes and smolders
holding on to hope of oxygen
feed me revive me make me come alive.
In days long past
I burned for you
a light to you for nations.
A gentle breeze I embraced
as a comfort I took it
I drew from it into a
corner where i could feed myself
and hide in, from the darkness
I was meant to dispel.
Now I cower under a basket
with the smoke wafting up
the darkness that frightened
the cold that scared
the burning.
Yet a new life is breathed
Into the very soul of my souls
And a fire starts to burn
on the tip of my wick
It is barely there.
Hands come from nowhere
to everywhere and shield the burning
No cold and stormy blast will reach
the heart of my fire and the flame
that grows ever and anon.
It grows slowly still and
greater with each gentle breath
from his mouth he feeds me.
The flame still small and barely
Not between the dark but towards the light.
He takes me from my corner
the basket topples down the
table and rests on the floor.
He moves me through the
heavy black which turns to smokey gray
and sets me on a pillar.
And there he holds his hands around me
which don’t suppress the light and
brings the world around me
to see and speak of his greatness.
So on the stand I stand anew
a token
of his loving kindness. I
Will not again retreat
to the darkened corner of myself
that suppresses the light he gives.

A bruised reed he will not break,
and a faintly burning wick he will not quench.

Isaiah 42:3

Isaac and ropeburn....


Dark skies, heavy breath
a wind that stills the motion
a rocky climb and lightning flashes
the thoughts of desperation.

A burst of thunder brings no rain
the wind dispersed the heat
the beads of sweat and tears of salt
fall down to ragged feet

the incline steep the dust it chokes
the rocks fall on their own
the heat in waves washes over doubt
and the heavy mood moves stones

The wood we have and the fire too
the knife is gleaming bright
but the sacrifice...atonement made
seems all by my own might.

Salvation seems just like a word
redemption redeems its own.
To the sacred place we bring ourselves
and to the altar of stone.

The altar stands against the sky
a sign of death and glory
and in defiance it raises itself
and brings the haughty lowly.

The bloodied stones cry out on high
of the tears and life all shed
of the offering made and the price that was paid
and the atonement that came when bled.

The silence is stifling as we arrive at the top
as the wood and the rope are let go
I sit and look over the mountain and vale
when I feel heavy rope on my wrists

I turn around and see my father
weeping with rope in his hand
I look in his eyes and there understand
The lamb we will sacrifice is me.

He binds my ankles and my wrists
yet beds the altar with hay
he lays my down like a newborn child
and brushes the hair from my face.

I feel a tear upon my cheek
And hear a stifled groan
down my face it quickly runs
and mingles with my own.

I feel the breeze from his raising arm
the breath is coming fast
the fire moves close on my neck
and the wind now blows in blasts.

I stop and think of lives now past
of the things I thought I knew
Of the rams that stayed where I now lay
And the thought I knew were true.

There was always a spotless lamb
from the beginning of the earth
God’s way was known to all who heard
But it now seems to have lost its worth.

And yet one thought pervades my mind
like water to the driest rock
That his mercy and love and grace remain
No matter the hard road we walk.

I clench my teeth and weep inside
“Provide a lamb Oh God!”
My father weeps and screams aloud
And his head bows in a nod...

Provide A Lamb Oh God Oh God!
Provide Oh Holy One!
Provide for us your chosen seed
Provide for us your sons.

And sweat.
I give myself to Him.
I let it go and fall flat limp
And wait for the strike of steel.

I feel not the searing pain of steel
nor the cold pain fire brings
But instead I hear a bleating ram
and to the Lord I sing!

My father prostrate falls and prays
he weeps aloud with joy
the ropes he cuts and fire drops
as He lifts up his baby boy.

We kneel both down on the cold gray stone
and a rain begins to fall.
we lift up our voices praise the one
whose mercy always enthralls.

Atonement made, redemption gave
faith and hope was built
Mercy triumphs all day long
and Through Him we have no guilt.

The altar seemed a cold dark place
where life was taken and burned
but now I see that through the pain
True Life was gained in the end.

I look at my hands my ankles and wrists
I studied them long and hard
For any signs of fire or knife
and for any signs of harm.

Unscathed I passed through the fire and steel
laid on the altar and lifted away
tied up so I couldn’t lift even an arm
But then shown that The Lord Has a way.

Like I said... I was thinking.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Reality vs. Truth

Here is a thought for you...

Reality is not in direct relation to the truth.

Friday, July 18, 2008

The Dark Knight... a study in depravity. sorta.

"Why so serious?"

Last night I went to the midnight showing of "The Dark Knight" It was perhaps the most beautifully dark, amazingly morbid and sensationally wonderful films I have ever seen. A pretty high order but when I think back on it I can only add more adjectives relative to the ones above. It was beautifully acted (Heath Ledgers Joker will be remembered for years to come) and written (a taut plot with amazing characters and startling twists and turns.) The visual style and sounds and everything was perfect. Oh yes and the depravity, you mustn't forget that. This film was dark, it gave a wonderful (if horrid) picture of man and where his depravity can lead. But perhaps more than the film I was startled by the audience in the theatre. There were moments in the film where I could barely help but avert my eyes away from some fiendish act being portrayed, But to my dismay and horror these were the parts the audience lived for. People would burst out in laughter as The Joker (a raving sado-masochist) would pull of antic after antic and watch wide eyed in delight as the body count was raised by another ten. At these moments I could barely watch and everyone else seemed transfixed in a state wonder and delight. This was sad to me, It reminded me that we don't need a "good film" to show us a perfect picture of man in his ungodly state, we have so many reminders all around. I walked out of the theatre perfectly aware of mans depravity but also not without a sense of wonder in a God who can take us in this state and make us like him. Imagine that.

Deathe with an e

I was sitting in church about three weeks ago musing death. I cannot explain why I was musing this "most unpleasent" of thoughts but it doesn't change the truth. I have this interesting trait, If I have an idea I don't generally go immediately to my blog and write it down... maybe I should. hmmmmmm. So after a few weeks of rumination I now give you "Death with an e"

Deathe. (some scattered verse)

a dance so delicate
stray but a little and you may fall
Life and death is a thin grey line.

Breathing, gasping, stillness.
in a moment we lose our grasp
in a second glance we lose this thing
This life at which we gasp.

A thin line grey, a tightrope light
a lightened brightened blackened sight
a thread we tread with which the dead
long again to once more tread.

You might be thinking why on earth am I posting this. That this is as unrelated to reality to be irrelevant. Well sometimes our thoughts take this grand journey, which is what I desire to do. Now among my few (or is my grandmother's computer out of service) readers I count several of you to be intellectual and good thinkers. Allow me to rephrase that. I count all of you as good thinkers. So I am hoping that some of you are psychotic enough (yes I said psychotic, the good kind) and now understand why there is an "e" at the end of death. . . . Ok let me enlighten you.

Like I said I was thinking, And an idea occurred to me, death is so imperfect in its spelling, it's missing something drastic. I pondered this and realized the the spelling and idea behind the word (at least the english spelling) was entirely devoid of any sort of complexity a word of that magnitude deserves. D E A T H. Bordering on the boring I decided to take matters in my own hands and add a much needed "e". Deathe. It looks nicer and even though the pronunciation is the same it carries more of a weight and beauty. But now you want to know why.

What is the last letter in the word Life? You shouldn't have to think long. And if you just can't place in in your mind It is here for reference a mere twenty three words back. The last letter of "LIFE" is in fact "e" And I thought is so ironically fitting to place the last letter of life at the end of death...e. Perhaps this still seems extremely useless and you think I am wasting your time. Now let us look at the idea a little further and I think there are actually some very interesting thoughts to be mused.

So aside from the word looking perhaps a little more formal and proper what else can be gained from this little change in spelling? We already have the irony so how about a little truth. If you are a Christian this especially applies to you. The end of life "e" is also the end of death "e". How fitting. Wouldn't it be poetic? That the same letter that brings life to a close also brings death to a close as well? Now you may be wondering why I even took the time to write this down. After all I am not going to get everyone to change the way they spell a word. I suppose the point of this exercise in futility is nothing more than and exercise in thinking. So whether you read this or not, whether you get it or not, whether you change the way you think or not realize that the mind is a horrible thing to waste. And even thinking over a simple misspelling can be a wonderful thing...


Friday, July 4, 2008


Ah the promise land. A land that was told to be flowing with milk and honey. A land that the Israelites longed for and an inheritance the Lord desired to give. If you think about it, the whole promise land thing was an amazing thing. The israelites had everything going for them, why then did they wander so long?

I was thinking the other day (yes I do it quite often) when this story came to mind. I couldn't help but wonder and laugh at the children of Israel. They had alot going for them, On their pilgrimage to Canaan the Lord provided them with clothes and sandals that never wore out, a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, a wonderful supply of food each and every morning not to mention the countless other miracles He performed on their behalf. Yet they still ended up wandering in the desert for forty years, forty years! I thought to myself "What a group of ignorant people. If I had all those things I wouldn't even dream of grumbling and complaining."... and then it hit me, Hard.

As of late the Lord has been sending me through some trying situations and I have been guilty of the very same thing I condemned Israel for doing. Grumbling against the Lord, seems stupid doesn't it? But the Lord forgives and all is well. Then the other parallels started to out and things got a little more uncomfortable. I, like the children of Israel have a place I long to be in my life, it may be different for everyone but I think everyone has got one. I, like Israel have a God who has a place that he wants me to be, A place he has for me specifically. It may be a vocation, a marriage or anything and my desires might even coincide with it. I, like the children of Israel have so many thing provided for me. Just consider breath and food and not to mention the ever steady companion of his word! I, like Israel... the comparison could go on and on. And then I thought back and remembered the one thing that kept them from entering in when the Lord had planned. Grumbling and complaining. Can anyone say conviction?

Sometimes I wish the Lord would just teach me things that are easy. No such luck here. I find myself desiring so many things, things that I feel the Lord desires as well but I am never satisfied with the journey I must complete to get there. I find myself asking for meat, when he has given me all I need in manna. I ask for the leeks and onions of egypt, I ask for an instant teleportation to where I want to be. I ask for everything to be easy when a hard journey is what will make me appreciate the glory of where he is leading me. What I don't ask for is the Lords will to be done.

So is it possible for us to be on the road that the Lord has for us and make it take longer than it need? I think so... And I will try by the Lords grace to stop grumbling and complaining against His work in my life and the way he is working it out... I dunno just something to think about.