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Category: Musings/Poetry
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What Shape is God’s Circle?
Smoke, ash, fuel. rain;
Red & yellow lines of light;
Fingers grasping water-air;
Lost & found; found & healed.
God’s circles are not round.
Manila, Philippines
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The Fury of My Heart
There is at least one spot in each of our hearts that lights up as fast as gasoline whenever that one thing happens. For you, it may be when your spouse has that look on his or her face and as soon as you see it, the torch flares inside you. It could be seeing someone else’s highlight reel in this virtual world where we peer through each others’ windows and expose ourselves without shame – either the Photoshopped good or the sensationalized bad. But the comparison we make as Peeping Toms yells at us and reminds us that our life is not nearly as special or bright or dark or good or meaningful as the person we spy on. Or maybe it’s that friend who you thought was a friend until they disappeared and when you shout out to them in the forest, “Where are you?” and you swim across the lake and hopefully sing, “Marco!” and there is no reply of “Polo” and there is no reply at all and your heart ignites in fear and anger and insecurity.
I have many of these spots and as I wake up I lay in bed for several minutes and pray desperately to dance over them with love and softness instead of give in to the torpedo of fury. Like a lighter these spots spark throughout the day and eventually something provides it enough fuel to explode and sometimes I cannot control it.There is a thing I do that is probably much like a junior high boy. I exist on one plane of real life where there are people and bodies and air and gravity. In my head I click the imaginary + sign and add a layer only I can see and in this layer I throw a bomb at the car that just cut me off or I imagine cartoon arrows shooting at that one man whose existence frustrates me to no end because he hurt someone I love. I look and loathe and try to find some kind of cloak of invisibility so that these things I imagine will never be known or seen though I know the only one who matters both knows and sees these.
My soul grieves the way my heart throws its fire around so easily and with such entitlement. Forgive me, forgive me, I say over and over again. And I know I am forgiven and I know with time and surrender maybe these fires will become smaller and burn so slowly until the embers turn to ash and disappear forever.
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Do You Feel Lonely?
I went to a movie by myself the other night. It was the first time I’ve done that in a long, long time.
Intentionally I slid through the doors late, after the movie had started, and was out and in my car before the first credit rolled.
If people saw me alone, what would they think of me?
Friendless?
Unlovable?
Awkward?
Even though now, more than maybe any time in my life, I feel the arms and hearts of friends around me, sometimes I still feel lonely.
My friend Jamie posted this video on Twitter last night. And it helped me realize that sometimes being alone is okay. In fact, it’s more than okay.
Lonely is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless.
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Show Me How to Die
We love stories of restoration. We love being unfettered and passionately full of life.
But before freedom comes oppression; before redemption comes loss. We want to be rescued from our pain, but often prematurely.
Do we know how to die? Are we willing to?
Do we know how to fall soberly on our face and stay in the painful, the most incomplete place where we empty ourselves until we admit our own desires, our own comfort, our own abilities are useless?
Do we truly take on the form of Christ’s sufferings, a suffering even to death?
A friend recently said to me in an email, “This is the Gospel made practical. Everyone wants the power of the Resurrection. Few are willing to endure the crucifixion to get there.”
Think about it.
I played this song (lyrics below) 17 times on repeat a few days ago. I had to keep playing it, because I had to keep breaking down my heart little by little…
“Show me how to die…”
Before writing any blog posts, before any book is published, before any stage I step on or listening to any person I meet. Before I spend my money, before pretending to be perfect – to have it all figured out, before going to church, or calling a friend…
Before any good or bad or noble thing…
“Show me how to die…”
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You could plant me like a tree beside a river
You could tangle me in soil and let my roots run wild
And I would blossom like a flower in the desert
But for now just let me cryYou could raise me like a banner in a battle
Put victory like a fire behind my shining eyes
And I would drift like falling snow over the embers
But for now just let me lieBind up these broken bones
Mercy bend and breathe me back to life
But not before You show me how to dieSet me like a star before the morning
Like a song that steals the darkness from a world asleep
And I’ll illuminate the path You’ve laid before me
But for now just let me beBind up these broken bones
Mercy bend and breathe me back to life
But not before You show me how to die
Oh, not before You show me how to dieSo let me go like a leaf upon the water
Let me brave the wild currents flowing to the sea
And I will disappear into a deeper beauty
But for now just stay with me
God, for now just stay with me(“Show Me” – Audrey Assad)
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Down Heaven’s Grey Cheek
It would make sense
that upon my awakening
as the birds begin their morning song
the sound of rain would accompany themTears are falling
down heaven’s grey cheek
and landing in the lap
of the soil of the earth—-
I will be taking some time off from online life to focus on quieting my heart, my schedule, and spending time with my family for the next few days as my uncle passed away last night in Texas.
Please keep our family in your prayers, especially his two daughters, who are my age, and have now lost both parents in what appears to be a time that was too early in taking them.
Thank you.
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You Knew What You Had to Do
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations –
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.*(Mary Oliver – Dream Work)
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A Day of Rest
As we spin with the world
Rotating among
The stars and particles
Swirling around us
Tides ebbing and flowing
The moon and the sun rising
We must command
Ourselves
To simply stop.
To simply be.(Breathe in the air
Not polluted by hurry
And breathe out the spirit
Of mercy and peace)