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Showing posts from 2019

The Value of Giving Up

They said You can fix anything with enough faith and declarations, With enough hard work and perseverance and grit and determination If you give it enough time and do everything just right Then everything will turn out fine, what you want will be in sight But believing this to be true can be detrimental to you As you pour your being out upon a dusty, thankless ground And wish for things not known, but which in your mind has grown Through ideals and partial vision, in understanding’s schism Sometimes it’s better to let things be, trust the perfection you cannot see, To embrace the holy fact that sometimes you simply can’t, When you’ve come to the end of your rope, sometimes it’s healthy to let go And using wisdom and discernment, learn to see the Word that’s Perfect There’s value in perseverance, but not in legalistic adherence To staying strong and fighting through, even though it’s killing you And if in the end you do not hold in your hand the pro

Loss

There is a firm line Between what was And what is And we cross it every moment of every day of our lives, We hardly notice it, Only sometimes acknowledge it with the changing of the leaves or the stature of a child, But the magnitude of loss emboldens the line so that it is not only noticeable, But undeniable and irrevocable, A mark made of permanent ink on a timeline drawn in pencil, And we trip over these lines as we grow, falling face down into the black abyss of loss and pain, And that feeling that we can never go back to the time before, That nothing will ever be the same But we cannot go back anyway, Can never be smaller than we have become, And so we recognize the inevitability of loss, The inexorability of forward movement, And as I wonder why I cannot take these people and thing that I love with me as I grow, My only hope to realize that one day I will be big enough to encompass both past and future simultaneously And so it is not in try

To Love by Halves

I don’t know how To love by halves and measures, To share myself in parts and pieces, To give you only the parts of myself that you will find acceptable, To hide the things that make me me beyond your reasoned ken, I’ve never been able to keep myself from pouring out into each person The total beautiful ecstasy of being who I am And in like turn, How can I receive only parts of you? How can I take the Love you’re offering me Without the terror that comes with some of the choices you make? Or how could I reject you because I think what you’re doing is “wrong” or “sinful” or “not enough,” Even in my most religious days, I could not in my heart pretend we weren’t One, Though I thought it was possible to hate a part of you while loving another, And yet I never knew how to reject you in part and love you in part, And so I took you as whole whether or not I liked it But oh, I’ve learned through trials and traumas That sometimes I have to pull away an

An Open Letter to My Emotions

Hey guys, It’s been a long time, And I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, Sorry I pretended you did not exist Or tried to force you into some acceptable, logical, religious form that could be displayed And understood by others, Or stuffed you down in guilt and shame so that you seemed to disappear, But were really always there hiding in the deepest depths of my being, In the recesses of my memories, In the subconscious decisions and dreams, In the very cells of my body, My bad… I really should have known better, Should have known that you were there to help me, to make me into the whole, Beautiful, well-rounded person that I am, To guide me in my decision-making, To connect me to others, Should have known that I would not be feeling you without a good reason, But society told me that if I displayed you in certain ways, I would be ridiculed and mocked, unsafe in my own expression, And religion told me you were sinful,

Overturning the Tables in the Temple

My House was to be one of depth and connection of all people of all nations, Of Love without condition given not only from Me to you, But from one to another, But you have made it a den of broken Promises and limited expressions of Love And how dare you purport to represent the God of Unconditional Love While rejecting those who need it most? How dare you pretend to Love someone And then brutalize and betray them when they don’t do what you want? How dare you decide what is and is not acceptable in My Name When you haven’t got My perspective… didn’t even bother to ask? Instead you took the writings, reputations, and even some revelations Of other men’s views of limitation And you made a law of what I never called a law, You made a conformity when I wanted individuality You made a condition and regulation when I wanted unlimited and joyful unique expression of every kind of Love in every kind of way You created division when I wanted unity, Crea

Lo-Ammi

They committed adultery When they chose theology And departed from Yahweh By separating themselves from themselves By standards, laws, and regulations Instead of the perfection of love, They chose a semblance of righteousness That required them to hurt others, To devalue others, To see less of Yahweh in others, To not allow others to be themselves, But instead require conformity to a set of external laws That they did not even originate And which were never meant to be for everyone And as the separated themselves from themselves, They lost the divine in those whom they called “Not my people,” Showing them no mercy, They cut off and killed the expressions of those Who were not considered worthy, Not knowing the whole time That they were murdering their brothers And ostracizing kin But one day they shall grow beyond the lower expressions, The silly rules and regulations that they hold around them as righteousness, They shall see the

The Strong Ant

Once upon a time there was an ant who had to carry a boulder. The boulder was sitting atop a treasure that the ant could see, but not reach. Something within the ant yearned for this treasure; he valued it so much. He wanted to lift the boulder. But one single ant cannot life an entire boulder. So the ant went to his friends, gathered them together, and told them of the treasure he knew was beneath the boulder. He knew that his fellow ants were expert carriers, for he had seen them carrying pebbles and big rocks. Surely, he thought, they would be strong enough to lift the boulder together! The other ants listened to the first ant tell the story of the treasure beneath the boulder, and they began to get excited at the idea of partaking of the treasure themselves. And so they agreed with the first ant that the boulder should be lifted. Some ants did nothing more than agree, but others volunteered to help lift the boulder themselves, for they knew that a single ant could not lif

Song of the Mystics

We, the Mystics, proudly arise In this Age of Aquarius as is our time, We are who we are; we don’t apologize For moving beyond and living our lives We, the Mystics, Will make you uncomfortable, For we do not conform to standard doctrine or theology, We do not fit within prescribed boxes that history and tradition have made, But we believe only that which we have heard from the very lips of God And we build our worlds upon Him, upon Our Love, upon who We are Instead of everything we’ve ever known We have journeyed with you, among you, beside you, And we will continue to do so, But we will also go on, launching out in our coracles from the ship that brought us almost all the way, As we reach the edge of the world in this theology that can go no further, Still, we paddle on in our tiny little vessels, For we will not ever cease to seek the greater things, the revelations, the face of Yahweh, We shall learn to see Him in all things, In ever-deepen

Outside My Window

The trees are dragons made of leaves and dancing lights That flicker behind them from streetlamps that come on as the sun sets, They stare at me through my window, But I do not fear them as they smile and snort and wink, I enjoy seeing the faces, Blinking at me in the twilight through the windows of my home, Their soft beauty and the calm tranquility Meshing together in the gloaming, And I love this time of night, The peace of the darkness reminds me That there is no reason to despise the times When the light is faint And the darkness prevails, That I can see such beauty and humor in the darkness, Just as I can see it in the cute little dragon made of leaves That winks at me through my window.

Imagine My Surprise

Imagine my surprise when I discovered I could worship Yahweh as well with secular music in the background as worship music, That He is the same God on Thursday as He is on Sunday morning, That I could feel Him all around me in my living room as much as in a church sanctuary, That I could find caring, Yahweh-hearted people in my workplace as much as in a gathering of believers, That I could see Him in a little boy who is decidedly not Christian as in the most pious of pastors, That I could know Him in Hell as well as in Heaven, Imagine my surprise when I saw Yahweh in the darkness as much as in the light, When I found Him after having to enter into places they all told me He would never go, When I knew Him as deeply and purely and personally in the valley as much as on the top of a mountain, When I learned that I could show His Love to others as much through joking around with them and cussing as I can by praying for them and receiving their prayers, Imag

Mourning

At first there’s only shock, The incredulity, spending hours convincing yourself that This is really happening and there’s no going back, The physical reactions as your body struggles to process what your mind cannot comprehend Then, there is grief, But grief is a complicated being, Especially when tempered by trauma, And it’s not as simple as being sad, It’s a combination of shock, anger, sadness, fear, That incredulity is still there Because “how is this possible” and “this has never happened before” And it hasn’t, You’ve never lost this person before, They’ve always been there, been alive , And now they’re not And with trauma and post-traumatic stress There are panic attacks and anxiety loops And wondering if the other shoe is going to drop Now that the shoe has finally dropped and shown you how many shoes are hanging above your head right now, fully capable of dropping at any second— A sword of Damocles for each and every person that yo

Choosing Joy

“Choose joy,” Oft-repeated advice that, on the surface, makes sense, Dig a little deeper, and it can be very unhealthy, Dig down to the depths and it can be beautiful, “Choose joy,” It does not mean To suppress negative emotions, To cut off the parts of yourself that feel pain, Isolating them behind a wall even as Fortunato, left to console himself only with his wine while he died a slow and painful death in darkness and isolation, was walled away from the world by one who could not stand him, To pretend that everything is perfectly fine when your mind, body, and spirit are screaming at you That you are in a place that requires knowing sadness, loss, anger, grief In short, choosing joy does not mean to choose not to feel pain, It does not mean choosing to ignore the facets of Yahweh that can only be found in the depths of destruction, It is so much more It is recognizing Yahweh in the darkness as much as the light, It is enduring the manifestatio

Valuing the Valley

Some days it’s fine, And the trauma is only in the back of my mind Underlying the beauty and the goodness that is in front of me And other days, Everything triggers a memory of something I’ve lost irrevocably Or brings up the horror of all that I’ve seen And I taste the bitter more than the sweet That’s life, Anything else is a lie Mountains and valleys exist for a reason And there is a purpose for every season And we are not destined to strangle our lives Into one of them or the other And I think part of the problem is That we were taught that pain is not of Yahweh, That He is not to be found in the suffering and agony As much as He can be seen in the joy and glory, But oh how shortsighted! For Yahshua Himself went straight to Hell To show us that there is no such thing as captivity To be found there And every valley is exalted, every mountain brought low, Not because our lives magically become perfected After we achieve this point

Reepicheep

Where the waves grow sweet, Doubt not Reepicheep… But even when the waves are bitter and deep, We must press on toward the Utter East For there is our passion, our reason for being So forward on ships laden with hearty fellows We progress through distractions and waters below Pressing onward and onward, though other men bellow Saying “turn back,” “that’s not true,” “you will be brought low” Great perils await us on this frightful journey, But also great vision and glory and life And our ship will be helmed with assiduous turning As we press on beyond what everyone else calls right The waters are brackish, are dark and disturbing, And every league filled with all things unknown, But what is the purpose of beginning a journey If we’re just going to turn back halfway and go home? Yet there at the end, a light in the tunnel, The waters turn clear and the salt is no more Here I must venture out into my coracle Leaving behind all I love on th

The Golden Thread

Life is a Tapestry, A beautiful creation woven together in love of various Threads— Expression, relationship, experiences— That depict a glory that can only be seen in totality, A glory that is the Love-relationship between an individual and Yahweh Some Threads are brightly colored depictions of joy and happiness, Others somber colors of confusion and chaos, But grief is the Golden Thread, For it is the one that costs the most—it costs a person , A relationship and way of being, It costs a life , An expression and way of living that is no longer available to you, It costs everything , And it changes the Tapestry forever The Tapestry with the Golden Thread Shines differently than any other Tapestry, And the Thread adds a bittersweet beauty that comes from the ashes— And can come from nowhere else In its place, the Golden Thread dazzles, It sparkles and shines a new glory that will never be found in any other Thread, And somehow it adds beaut

Progressive Faith

Most people agree That moving forward with Yahweh perpetually Is a wonderful goal and worthy of consideration, But there are places we think Yahweh isn’t, And so there are places we aren’t willing to go… Eternally growing with Yahweh our Father, A goal that is worthy of our lives and faith, But we will not see Him in any discomfort And so we refuse to know Him in all things But He says I am here in the midst of the struggle, He calls out our names on the wind and the waves And He doesn’t expect us to stay in the lifeboat He expects us to trust Him and the life that He gave So into the darkness and into the valley I venture, though I have to venture alone, For though most only see Him in light and on mountains, I’ve chosen that He be all I’ve ever known So hatred and anger, death, destruction and violence All of the things they said He’d never be, I welcome and embrace to weave into my garments, My life’s full expression and His Tapestr

Connection

How can we ever come to One When we only love those who look like, sound like, think like us When we group ourselves into categories Based on race, religion, culture, and beliefs How can we ever come to know The value in our human Love When we measure it out so sparingly To those who share parts of our identity We see someone different and we call them “other,” Unholy or privileged, not worthy of Loving We see someone out there as less than we are, We judge by the outside instead of the heart Or maybe we secretly judge others in fear Feeling less than adequate, like there’s something wrong here And we must tear “them” down to bring “ourselves” up, As if there were ever a ration on Love! And in our fear that they will us harm, We take up our swords and cry out “to arms!” We lobby with vitriol, anger, and hate And degrade other humans with whom we should relate Formerly men fought each other with weapons But now in the media, men find

Broken Eggs

I put all my eggs into one basket, And when that basket broke, All my eggs fell, Cracked and spilling on the floor, I am lost, alone, and without support The basket promised safety, Blessings without limitation, And love that would never end Slowly it began to fray, untwist, untwine, At first, I told myself it would be okay, That’s how baskets operate, And later I told myself it was my fault, I tore strips of my own skin from my very flesh And tried to use them to plug the hole, I went to those who built the basket over and over again and asked them What to do, How to fix it They said it wasn’t their job to fix it, They’d built the basket well the first time And if I need to fix the basket It’s because I did something wrong to create the hole, They ripped more flesh off of me and told me to keep plugging, Have more faith, Be more faithful Eventually I realized I could not keep tearing myself apart, I begged and begged for help

Lucy

Walking through the forest and big brother knows the way We’re going to get to our appointed place But we don’t seem to be progressing, despite all that he says I begin to wonder what is this path he takes I look now to the side of me as Someone calls my name He beckons me to go in His direction But when I tell the others, they scoff and they exclaim We did not see, so you must be mistaken We continue on in circled path, dead end after dead end Again the Lion calls to me and beckons But no one else will listen to that which I contend: That there is something more than what we’d reckoned Now laying down to take a break, we rest before the morn, More futile, endless walking on the morrow I see the Lion in my dreams; He calls me to go on Whether or not the others stay or follow Now how can I move forward if I must leave some behind, How can I go to places no one else goes, But how long can I continue in the futility of mind And hide in my he

Choosing to See

Set firmly within the comfort zone of all I have known, I rest within the rhythm of the lapping waves A single glowing candle illuminates the darkness But the light of the candle cannot penetrate beyond the walls of the ship Crash! The thunder rumbles and the lightning strikes For a moment I can see beyond the horizon But to step even further into the light I must endure the tempest and the destruction of my safety net Overwhelmed by the waves and the darkness, The flashes of lightning give me the strength to hold on As glimpses of the land beyond my reckoning Allow me to see beyond the destruction of this vessel, And as the wreckage of the ship sinks beneath the waves around me, I tread water awaiting the rescue I foresaw in lightning’s flash Behold! I am coming soon! And I will be able to see in greater measure, Come and know me better, man! Yet I wonder now if I will make it to the vision that I’ve seen, For now there is nothing between