Dehydrated

When we first receive Christ, our joy abounds, doesn’t it? But, life has a way of going on and we have a way of forgetfulness. Sometimes, we can go along without even realizing how much we are lacking when we neglect to seek the Living Water…

In the beginning,

It was like the freshness of dawn

Appearing…

Your joy bubbled like water

Flowing on and on;

Glowing in me a love so bright,

So endearing…

Then, somehow, the morning’s

Faded;

Moving on….

One motion to the next,

Emotions rising increasingly

Complex.

Harder to catch my breath to

Stay;

Refreshing stretches a further

Breadth away;

Day takes on a glaring shade

Overhead,

And I find with a start

I am staring into a drying

Riverbed.

Sitting in my tongue-furred haze,

I finally realize I’ve lost the drive

To fill myself with Your praise.

.Oh, Lord, bring me back to the

Streams from heaven’s door!

Restore to me the

Softer sunbeams of before!

Funny how easy it is to become

Absolutely dehydrated,

And allow it to carry on

Almost unabated…

Takes some time sometimes

To recognize my thirst.

Lord, please help me to

Remember

To drink in Your presence first…

May we indeed remember to seek His presence above all and stay hydrated in Him! Blessings and prayers, dear friends! Thanks for reading!

Are We There Yet?

Now, on first glance, this picture feels like nothing but scribbles. Primarily, it was approached as such. 🙂 However, the more I looked, the more it seemed to represent a never-ending stream of chaos fairly well, the cross at the center, as it should be.

Both this and the following poem are inspired by my own foolish tendency to worry, especially regarding the wild unknown. The tizzy the world can get us in can be overwhelming, but, thankfully, we can know He who has overcome the world…🙂

Are We There Yet?

Lord, what about this?

God, what about that?

Questions shouted ceaselessly in

The deepening mist,

Answers clouded almost teasingly,

Both present and past…

Brain keeps stacking, never

Slacking

Train on the track keeps clacking,

Never backing;

Steam puffs surgingly

Whistle blows rough, urgingly

What about this over here?

What to do with that over there?

Oh, Lord, what can be done with

All this blasted fear?

Daddy God, how do I even

Proceed

With all these nasty anxieties

Laid bare?!

At the same time, this engine

Never quits,

Never quiets…

The end? I squint through the

Screaming streams, but, still I

Struggle to spy it!

Daddy God, please tell me, oh,

Are we there yet?

I whine like a restless child,

I know…

But, so very weary of this endless

Fret!

Help me see beyond the worry,

The hurry,

And the flurry;

Bring the cross into relief amid the chaos;

Calm my ever-rushing mind!

Lord, grow in me belief beyond the cost,

As only in You all the answers

Will come in their time…

May we indeed lean on Him alone to calm our worries and await His perfect answers! Blessings and prayers, dear friends! Appreciate the read! 😊

The Becoming

This poem grew from a comment I made the other day on a post on Heavensreef, a very encouraging blog I recently started following. 🙂

Now, it’s not what you’d call a traditional valentiny sort of piece, but, truly, what better love is there demonstrated than in His redemption of our lost souls? ❤

Query:

What were you before Jesus?

Answers circle, haunting truths

So heavy to carry.

Surprisingly daunting task, this-

How to describe what I was

And not lose sight of what now is?

Well, best to just begin, I concede-

Filthy hands had I,

So foolish and full of sickening pride,

Pawing desperately

After a love I tried to define.

Hardly kept a head above

Quicksand most days;

Crackling lungs scarcely held

More than shallow breath;

Fingers curling over

Broken strands of impending death,

Numbing to my own rapidly

Increasing decay.

Ah, but, one word could I rasp to the skies:

“Help.”.

In that moment, stretched out the Lord’s clasp to mine,

Pulling me free of my self-made muck,

Suddenly to solid ground I found myself,

Startled near to being thunderstruck.

Brought me to His river then,

And washed me pure within.

New garments was I given,

Royal robes fit for heaven.

And after?

Well, we’ll call that the becoming.

His truths started in to humming,

New and strange beats on my heart drumming.

Set out to learn this different rhythm,

Untried feet sometimes skipping,

Sometimes stumbling.

Yet, the travels with Him,

Dear companion God,

Are ever onward tumbling…

Oh, this becoming has been quite

A journey for me,

And He’s not done with me yet,

By any means.

Yet so grateful to see

Just how far His love’s brought me-

Long miles streak out behind

Like light-years of shifts and sighs,

From the life that really wasn’t life

To the life He intends there to be.

And one day, this becoming will

Become a became

And, at journey’s end, all the rest

Will fall away,

With nothing more left to do than

Simply bless His name…

Oh, friends, the wonder of the journey from the depths of sin to becoming like Him! There’s nothing like it. May you feel His love on this day and always. ❤ Thanks for reading. Blessings and prayers to you. 🙂

Fragments in the Dark Glass

A tidbit of my “handiwork” on textured tile in my bathroom, some as reflected through the mirror. ( The mural as a whole is a jungle scene of light and shadow.) Thought it was a photo uniquely suited to this poem.

Fragments lie jagged on the floor,
Puzzling till my puzzler’s sore. 😏
Does this piece fit there or here?
It just doesn’t always come clear.
Trust the provisional face
Of through the glass darkly, You Say;
All else will fall into place Someday…
Oh, Lord, grant that I might gain More patience
For the days of Your unfettered Presence!
I have You now, it’s true.
Who else could have breathed in me Life anew?
Yet, there’s the unseen I quest for, The unending, unhampered rest as Never before.
Knowing instilled in an instant;
All cares forgotten, banished to Farthest distance.

Longing rises up from deep within my thirsty soul.

So difficult to still the vocal one Within who scarce can surrender Control!

Lord, when, oh, when will I be privy to the answers for all time?! I cry.

Feeling foolish, but out the words do fly!

Ah, but, with tenderest eyes, He shines an unperturbed smile…

When the time is due, my child, He replies.

Yes, these days drag hard at the heart,

The earth is wild,

Infected, blowing wide apart.

But, the dawn is measuring its footsteps,

Preparing for completion of all the bright promises kept.

Fret not, little one.

At the rightest of moments,

My will be done,

Pieces will come,

Locked into My perfect precepts.

And, there you have it;

Fragments will fit when they fit.

No fast fix, this.

But, soothing nevertheless enters

In the heavenly emotional mix.

Longing still rises from deep within My soul,

But, learning all is best in Your control.

May we have a heart ever expectant of His return, but also one that ever rests in the trust of His control of our times! Blessings and prayers to you, friends and thank you for reading! 😊

Words Rendered Useless

Ok. Comments on. Still can’t understand the issue completely. Thanks for bearing with me! Blessings to you! ☺

Words.

Always seeking a perfect crafting.

Seems forever I am drafting…

How I love to weave you

In patterns enormously elaborate

Or whittle you carefully down to

Allow sparing truths to fit.

But, there are times when you

All but vanish,

Behaving almost as banished,

Leaving me with a nameless

Something

Stinging my tongue,

Though not painfully:

And that single, well-known melody alights itself

Softly, reverently…

Holy, holy, holy

Is the Lord God Almighty…

My heart surrenders to the phrase,

Rendered otherwise wordless

By the echo of endless praise

To come,

Of knowing and lifting Him high.

Oh, to embrace the ultimate sum

Of all our existence!

To freely fling my hands to the sky,

Ending all resistance!

To join in sinking to my knees

Before the throne,

To know this King

Loves me as His own!

To sink back in the peace,

To rejoice in the ceasing of

All my consternation,

And at last lay aside the

Mad scramble for

A poet’s perfection.

Words Rendered Useless

Words.

Always seeking a perfect crafting.

Seems forever I am drafting…

How I love to weave you

In patterns enormously elaborate

Or whittle you carefully down to

Allow sparing truths to fit.

But, there are times when you

All but vanish,

Behaving almost as banished,

Leaving me with a nameless

Something

Stinging my tongue,

Though not painfully:

And that single, well-known melody alights itself

Softly, reverently…

Holy, holy, holy

Is the Lord God Almighty…

My heart surrenders to the phrase,

Rendered otherwise wordless

By the echo of endless praise

To come,

Of knowing and lifting Him high.

Oh, to embrace the ultimate sum

Of all our existence!

To freely fling my hands to the sky,

Ending all resistance!

To join in sinking to my knees

Before the throne,

To know this King

Loves me as His own!

To sink back in the peace,

To rejoice in the ceasing of

All my consternation,

And at last lay aside the

Mad scramble for

A poet’s perfection…

My apologies for the comments not being on. I can’t seem to remedy the situation myself this time. At least, not at present. 🙄 I think this is becoming a problem for tech support! Blessings and prayers and thanks for reading at any rate! 🙂

Winepresses We Hide In

This is sort of a reworking of a poem from about 14 years ago. I originally wrote it after picking through some of the Bible stories of the unlikeliest He called, including Gideon. I wrestled much with doubt then. My faith has been mightily stretched, of course, but I can admit thoughts written long ago still echo through the here and now

Sometimes, I feel like Gideon,

Crouched down in the winepress,

Hiding out,

Quaking with anxiety.

I’ve never seen an angelic guest,

I confess,

Nor do I ever find myself with

Much wheat to thresh, 😏

Yet, there is a something in the

Story there

That sounds such a

Recognizable ring

Through the air…

Perhaps it’s his utter smallness,

From birth order to clan,

That meets me where I live,

Connects to where I am.

Perhaps it’s the “Who, me?”

Manner,

An imagined incredulity at the

Idea of “valor”

Which tends to give to my soul

A nod of familiarity.

Between us lies years and

Obvious difference in

Circumstance,

Yet, in feelings?

I suspect there ‘s very little

Disparity.

For, I can well picture

My questioning heart here,

My begging for just one more

Fleece, please,

To alleviate my fear.

I can feel the wonder

As the odd proceedings

Prove might is not in man

And it’s His truth which sends

Doubts and enemies asunder.

I can only pray my faith keeps on

Gathering

And my growth in Him becomes

More than a mere smattering.

For though my battle be

Not with a Midian horde,

Nor my weapons broken jars,

Torches, or ram’s horns,

That which I march into

Is a trust walk nonetheless,

Numbers with me modest,

And my tendency is to the flesh.

Yet, I know that I know

He meets us

In every winepress we hide in.

And, oh-so-patiently,

He lifts us beyond cowering dust

To call out a depth of courage

We didn’t know was within….

May we step out of our respective winepresses and approach each battle with faith and courage in the Lord, especially as a new year prepares to unfold! Blessings and prayers to you, dear friends! ☺