Dizzy

The scriptures repeatedly speak of the sacred romance between God and man. They cry aloud of God's longing to walk among his people. In the law the people were commanded to look strait ahead, not glancing to the right or to the left. To fixate their gaze on the wholeness of God and to pursue Him as a lover pursues his beloved. I have found that this divine fixation is relevant within the bounds of the new covenant. That within our liberty and covering of grace we can so easily become distracted and forget. In my own life I fail to keep my gaze focused. I romance lovers less wild. Their promises wilt into bitterness. Into emptiness. As long as we have breath I believe God still longs to redeem us. I want to experience the depth and wholeness of this redemption. I have tasted and seen that He is good...I want to be consumed in Him as well. Not to the right or to the left...strait ahead...

mejor que el Vino...

I find myself in motion to a place I barely know, finally tasting a freedom from a web I never fully understood. This motion is sweet and beckons me to embrace it. I know it will be better than the finest wine, a place where I can resonate with a reality that few taste. Many would ask to what end? I simply know it to be good and true. It is caught somewhere between a leap of faith and a dream I feel the Spirit would have for this life of mine. Mine, yet not.

It's been so real to me lately how temporal so many of our "christian" fads are. In short, much of it has become jargon to me. All the same, the truth of Christ which I've heard thousands of times over has not grown to be like jargon. The essence of it still rings loudly in my soul. And yet, softly. I've seen the kingdom move as of late. I feel like God has used me in its moving. I've also messed up a lot. Pleasing the spirit or pleasing the flesh. It's a day to day, hour to hour, second to second struggle.

It's totally worth it.

Shimmer within Decay

As of late I have known defeat and fear like a buried man knows dirt upon him. What defenses I once clung to are but trifles of legalism robbed of their potency. These days of late the bitter I taste is rancid but the sweet is beyond description. I now know that I man cannot change his own heart. I knew that before, though I am not sure if I believed it. There is truth in David's voice as he said "Create in me a pure heart Oh God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."

The truth is this, God is willing, I need but relent my pride.

"Blessed are the pure of heart, for they will see God"

Cliffs Above

I feel walled in. From this sin and failing it seems I cannot escape. The freedom looms above...casting its shadow if only to tempt me to redemption. I declare freedom from this would be inhuman, not of this place. It feels so normal I feel tempted not to resist, yet the spirit whispers that love should have some place. I should offer more love and respect. Truth stings sometimes...and why should ignorance enjoy such bliss? Freedom would require me to leap, to trust, to have faith. So the cliff looms above, and I have wings yet I waver as to their use...

Motives & Church

It had been 4 weeks since I last went to church. I finally went this morning and I think I received more questions than answers. Don't get me wrong, I gave up looking for definitive answers in church a long time ago...or perhaps I never actually looked. Frankly I wonder if my experience with church can be summed up in saying that on one end there is passionate fascination and at the other numbing apathy. I'm not sure if my current spot fits between either though. I found myself gazing at it all almost as a critic yoked with spite. It wasn't spite though, I know this because I still care deeply for the church. Christ died for it. And so I ponder a while and determine if my motives align evenly with my ideals. I need to confess. I often care more about who is sitting around me in the service than I do about my lack of understanding of the mystery of worship. That would mean I seek their praise. That could mean that I seek their approval over that of my redeemer. What would the idealistic church look like? I doubt that it would be the most trendy or relevant. I doubt people would even care what their or any one else's clothing looked like. How could they? How could such insignificant and trite things be even the most remote of distractions when the focus were where it should be? By that I mean centered on the love of Christ and love of fellow man. So convinced of the need for deedless grace simply because one would know their own reality as well as the reality of their neighbor. They might even be one in spirit. They might live up to the ironic humility that we are all called to.

Who then, is my enemy?

I simply cannot bring myself to understand this constantly. I catch glimpses of truth yet it flees. Perhaps however, it is I who flees. I run and hide because it is light and I am dark. I so often get frustrated with souls I perceive to be wretched and sunk in a restraining pit. I forget that I have been redeemed of similar straits. I deny the truth that is Christ, that men can be free and can chase perfection in this life and be assured of it in the next. If I but stand for that liberty in Christ. If I but exhibit my redemption I do believe the haze might lift. One might call the lessoning of hell heaven, yet I believe the glimpses of heaven we are exposed to are but drops of water from oceans. My prayer is this, that I may not hate men but sin. That I may attack the enemy and not the hostage. And who are hostages...all men I presume, until they are redeemed.

Please Father, Cut These Chains

my pride chokes me. i welcomed it here. it grips and pulls me and makes me a mockery. what liberty and freedom is there to be found in the mire of pride? what bare evil it is! pollution of the soul...

liberty, humility, freedom...paradox of eternity. In surrender I am redeemed

The Grandfather Was a Labor Union President

The Myers-Brigg profile said it well. "If there were no INFJ's, Israel would have gone without prophets." At times things stir in my deepest parts. A passionate conviction, a daring vendetta resonates. It was upon me so quickly, had I been given a moment more I would have approached her...and rebuked her. I was standing in the coffee shop line. My friend was working the counter. My friend was tired. The women, who could have been mistaken for a regular church goer, approached to order. She spoke of her custom preference. The barista innocently failed to know. The customer glared...then asked for the barista's name. She had no care to know her.

Had it come to me a second sooner, I would have approached the customer. I would have said, "why do you do that?" "what good can come of it?" "can you not see her honesty? are you so consumed with pride and disregard?"

I would have said it. I could feel the bitterness of it all. I should have spoken truth, instead I spoke nothing at all. She probably is a church goer, she probably cared little for my friend. Like I said, my grandfather was a labor union president.

Plans Rather Unkempt

I am a man like two. My emotion dictates my ever changing whim. But a whim, a pulse within perhaps, whispers softly. But yet it sways. Plans made are no place for faith, for faith must dwell in loftier keeps. Merely a desire, yet wrought in conflict with fate. Faith, hope, love...and then before our eyes the Kingdom emerges. Perhaps I am wrong, or perhaps I follow whims...but I am His.

Intoxicating Reality

What if when we came together we communally asked Christ to resonate through our gathering. What good is a prayer before dinner if it is but a stinging reminder of a depth rarely reached? What of emotion and how like our meditation it can run out of control or serve us as a platform to the divine? What of liberty over restriction, and a dismissal of worldly culture, if only for a minute, if only for a thought, for we are not of this world. What of jubilant fraternity? It must be true! We are more than sinners saved by grace! We can escort heaven to earth. What is not possible with a communion of saints?

Sweetest words I can muster for a dear Savior

My Christ, your presence caresses my soul. Like incense I desire my intercession to be. Ever elevating the glow of a soul so enamored. From what depths you lifted me, from what pits I cannot fathom. Captive, set free, now captivated by divinity ever pristine. In the stillness you weight the air. Pride flees and shudders before your exalted presence. Does heaven descend or do You lift Your own?

Though Blatent as Awkwardness, how we forget

We pray, we offer up our needs and desires in desperation at best and disregard at least. Like a socket longing for it's volts to scream forth. Often disconnected. God adores us more than we could now know or understand. Nothing stands in His way. We so often need only ask. Prayer baffles me. Not so long ago I felt, along with brothers and sisters, to pray for the impossible. The impossible happened. My heart was aroused, but how easily I forget. I think of that answered prayer, and suddenly my soul feels tugged to worship. To worship in spirit. To know that Christ opened the way...bridged the gap. Evermore