Tag Archives: christianity

Total Depravity

How desperately dark
shadows cast
through human hearts
whose goal and task
is parlaying who they are
into all they ask
to get.

How desperately dull
are human desires
once noble, now fallen
to the basest of mires:
self-adoration, deception,
and the ritualistic fire
of competitive conversation.

While the raging beast
of gnashing ego
scratching feet, grinding teeth,
snarling, snorting as it burrows
into souls through caging flesh
feasts on the low
of spirit.


God of My Life

You wait like the moon,
Reflecting what we can bear to see,
Patient, but soon
Sunlight will break over all these things
As You have said in calm and thunder,
So You will do,
And I watch in quiet wonder
The breathless spin of the moon.

You burn like the sun,
In splendor and unapproachable glory
Distant and near, our constant One.
Distant not to burn, near enough for me
To see and be warmed.
Revolving around You, but unable
To look into Your heart unharmed,
But in Your light, my world looks stable.

Every piece of heaven and earth
Unworthy of Your holy habitation,
Deepest oceans aren’t vast enough to birth
An accommodating station
But You came in the waters of a woman,
Wrapped snug in the flesh of men,
The Unreachable as touchable human,
The Impeccable amongst our sin,

Our flaws, our frailties, our treason,
Weaving a brand new thing
The true God lifting our reason
To the heights of wonder to sing
To the God of the moon and sun,
And all mankind,
So we may see, yearn, run,
And seek, and find

The God of the distant constellation,
And near as our own flesh,
Who weaves our dear salvation
From the torn shreds of His own death
And enters our rebellion,
Our gnashing teeth and blindness,
To drink our cup of hell and
Rescue us in lovingkindness.

Wrap Your shawl of wonder
Around my feeble soul,
Oh God of heat and thunder
Whom every age extols,
Lift my humble view,
And direct my blinded roam,
To look alone to You
Until You bring me home.

Psalms 42:7-8

Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls;
All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.
The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime;
And His song will be with me in the night,
A prayer to the God of my life.


Ithaca

Dark waters lapping at my hull,
And I have no control
Over the depths beneath
Over the sea beasts
That lurk in my dreams
And I creak at the seams
My timber shivers
Against the weight that delivers
This vessel homeward.

I’m using temporary measures,
Carnal pleasures
Tourniquets of vice
To numb these nights
But I’m waiting for the God of the sea
To arrive in storm, to rescue me
I’m tethered to this ship,
But there is One whose grip
Directs this helm heavenward.

Water and wind
Slashing again
At my weathered face,
But this journey of grace
Has an inevitable harbor
Let the wind blow harder,
Let the breakers break me
They cannot shake me

From my course.


Doubting Me

Ruminating
On the substance of man
The intangibles of hope, and faith,
That fuel and fan
Our brief, burning existence.

Striving and dying
In the same breaths
That framed the common lives,
Ambitions, and inevitable deaths
Of heroes and villains.

And without scales
To weigh this substance,
To ascertain its purpose, or value,
It’s just wandering circumstance
And wishful thinking.

Religion,
Man’s answer to man’s dilemma,
Is more striving at dying,
Temporary solutions or agendas,
Without a Creator.

And I’m thinking of witnesses,
And historical accounts,
The dependency of science,
And it all amounts
To the idea of God.

How easily I doubt,
And how often I look
To the Author of life,
Of time, of the Great Book
That weighs these intangibles,

And makes sense of circumstance.


Just So

And has there ever been, from birth
Any moment, or breath,
Some collision of word, or flesh,
That was ever anything of worth

Without You wrapped in it?

We dig our gardens, our graves,
Passing our rote to little minds,
Studying tides, and stars, and all kinds
Of grasping, assuming we’re saved

By our tasks and do we miss You?

Let the floods commence
Eroding our mud breaches
Folding in on what we teach is
Our greatest recompense:

The surviving members of creation.

You will come with mighty roar
Like the oceans we adore
And our proud knees will drop
And our hard hearts will stop in our proud chests

On the dry shores of our vested interests.

Will we forget our complex knots?
Our webs of assent, the tangles
Of all the wisdom we’ve mangled
And all the lies we’ve bought,

And peddled.

Even so, Lord Jesus, come.


Sparrows and Sorrows

We toiled at the crossing,
Long days ere we deployed
With frantic errands fit between,
But our work became our joy
Preparing to cross the bar,
To meet our fellow brothers
Co-heirs adopted by our Father,
Born from different mothers.
Embarking with meager belongings,
But carrying hearts full brimmed
We eagerly journeyed through
A stranger night, soft dimmed,
Barely closed eyes opening
Onto a day born new
All the wonder of our hope
Painting a lovely view.

I cannot know, looking back,
What caused the quiet schism
Was it cultural habits of expression,
Stiff-lipped stoicism,
Prejudice or snobbery,
Or some other slight assumed
Caused by some prior phantom
Also born from my mother’s womb.
Their call extending to every nation,
But touched with contempt for mine
As the bonds of brotherhood dissolved,
So also our grander design,
And our love evaporated
On the cold and distant shore,
And our full hearts were emptied,
And our value full ignored.

So I call on you, our father,
Who gives life unto the dead,
And you love your varied children,
To the very hairs upon our head
Mend the boats we sank,
And purge our dark intentions
Teach us to love beyond our faults,
Our prejudice and apprehension.
Our value solely found in you;
We are lovable because you’ve loved
And all that’s worthy in any flesh
Is given it from above

And how I know you care for them,
And how you care for me,
But oh the depth of salty tears
Filling this expanse of sea!


August Ruminations

Here sits the castle of my soul,
Touched by rot and ruin,
Cramped and narrow,
Housing doubts, fears, confusion
Standing room only

This aged mansion
Can’t hold the immensity
The vast expansion
Or colored intensity
Of a summer sunset.

Man from clay,
But here I lie, on earthen hill,
My corridors splay
Insufficient to fill,
To swallow the ground beneath

Incapable of cleansing my stains,
Or repairing my breach,
Created: I cannot contain
These elements beyond my reach
Beyond my reason

But even they have a first:
God’s handiwork unfurled.
He fills to burst the
Confines of this world
That cannot contain Him.

And how small am I?
Woven in the womb’s darkness
By His delicate design
And omnipotent sparks
Of fragility and fate

And I ask Him to abide
In this broken abode.
I ask Him to hide Himself inside,
This God I know
Of fire and radiance

I ask Him into this crumbled pittance
Decaying more each season,
Because denying Him admittance
Is no small treason,

This Creator who can neither be contained,
Nor restrained,
Nor ever moves He in vain.