The Cliff

Here at the cliff
where the clouds and earth meet
in a sweet embrace
and all I can do is to sing
while the earth rushes to meet my suspended body.

Because jump I did; had to
no other option remained on the table
(so many wonderful discourses and suggestions
like leaves by a fall wind blown asunder)
and in the sweet embrace between sky and land I stay

Stay here with a glad heart
confident in my leading off the cliff
(quaking in my innermost)
experiencing the joy of freefall
(praying that this nightmare would stop)

Because I am fickle and will oppose you at every turn
And the cards are laid, the flop there, every breath waiting for this turn
You are in control of the cards, my trembling hands aside
You are in control of this rapid descent
Lord, let my heart and soul in Your Spirit reside

Beautiful Bondage

Sweet chains of bondage
(leaving my former shackles)
A captive in Your glorious procession
(I have been set free)
Seated in the Heavenlies
(ushered into glorious chains)
Equipped for a mission
My glorious Master,
You have my all, my everything.
I am a slave in Your beautiful bondage

The Penitent Song of the Sitter

Here I sit, with arms folded
and heart very much unabandoned.
My self-righteousness shining out
like a twisted, corrupting light,
darkening the hearts of those whom it illumines.

Any way but this, tell me, sweet Lord.
I want to love You with my whole heart
I want a knowledge of
and relationship with
to be my life's definition
(A blurry picture in an old Webster's)

What has happened to my heart, that such a tragic reversal;
The Divine feeling hellish to my calloused soul?
Father, I want to know You always,
But sometimes a cold, calculating passion
Doesn't feel pleasing to You.

If freedom is Your call
(The Glorious, Awe-inspiring trajectory)
Then what Devilish chains bind me to this mountain fortress
Where my heart sits cold and bitter and alone with You.
Your Spirit is my life, my all.
Glorious Trinity, more of You, I beg.
Lest I die here in this damned wilderness

Divine

I stand among the desolation,
the broken, crumbling ruins of a bygone age.
I watch with apathy as my body to dust returns.
A howling wind cries out with savagery,
as it prowls among the silenced echoes of something Divine

I stand among the scoffers,
the jeering, taunting paragons of a damned age.
I watch with hatred as Your body yields Your Spirit
A savage earthquake breaks out with justice,
as You open a long-closed door to something Divine

I stand at the cross,
the silent, desolate hill; the start of a glorious age.
I watch with joy as Your Spirit comes to my body.
A celebration is heard in every corner of Heaven,
as You bring a lost son into Your presence Divine

I stand at the mirror,
the glorious, amazing image; the prelude to the eternal age.
I watch with awe as this dust is transformed into Your Image.
A cry of praise is heard, bursting from my heart like You burst from the grave,
as I spend this mortal coil growing closer to You; my joy: Divine

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

The Loss of Self

You are the creator
Your works tower above, a testimony to Your greatness
Your mighty power takes ____ away
Your wisdom has declared
Your knowledge has proclaimed
That weak vessels will herald Your fame

Your power in view
A testimony to all
But not perfected (just a builder with a broken hammer)
Till ____ is supplanted, the throne by ____ abdicated
(The return of the rightful king)
Till Your might is perfected, completed by the weakness of ____

The broken vessel in view; alone
(no more than a clanging gong; a useless cymbal)
But when brokenness is known, when weakness is shouted, when ____ is lost
Then comes the perfect, mighty cleansing tide
The power that created the very spark of life
In vessels, vassals, of triumphed clay

Jonah

-42
You've really screwed things up this time.
Your grace has all the ill-timing of an unwanted guest.
The compassion I see: revolting; against everything that should be
My temper boils over in seconds as I watch Yours cooling for years.
Hate and bitterness my only companions
As I'm trapped here in this Eastward prison
Watching Your love

Because I; I still have much to prove,
I have vain hopes of winning; earning Your love like my childhood sweetheart.
And every day I sit in this Eastward prison
I see only failures, only constant impossibilities.
I sit with You, forced into watching, and because
Because I can't stand the man I am
I can't stand watching this boundless grace pour out
On the people who are me.
For I still have much to prove;
I can still earn the love that I hate, need, love.
Watching, waiting, planning,
Angry even to death,
In this Eastward prison

Mission Trip devotions

Matthew 28:18-20

Walking along the streets, I
hear a cry from a broken shadow and I
turn aside, unwilling and able to help, knowing that I
would rather not make a fool of myself; I
would rather stay inside; I
would like to go about my comatose life, I
am unwilling to take off the blinders

But You
healed the sick, You
healed the lame, You
touched the repulsive, You
talked to the outcast (and once, that was me), You
have all the power, You
have all authority, You
are always here and never leave or forsake me, so You
please, PLEASE have to change me, You
have to give me the power, You
have to resurrect this broken shell anew, and You
have to be my everything, because everything is about You.