For a Moment

For a moment I am in this moment,
One moment following another and another moment.
Too many moments on my mind and I become stressed,
But with so many unknowns and so much to do, how can I rest?

In the noise of the day, He still calls me to come and be –
Here, in this moment, for a moment, to taste and see.
Not to worry about what has been or what will come,
But to rest and remember where my hope comes from.

Just.
Be.

Be still and be in His presence.
To be in awe of His love and omnipresence.
For though He is outside of time and I am bound by it for now,
He chooses to meet me here in this moment somehow.

With His grace that abounds, He covers me,
For this moment and all of my moments that will be.
And though my mind inevitably wanders and goes astray,
He doesn’t leave me but faithfully, He stays.

In this moment He tells me to just be still,
To listen attentively and learn of His will.
In my doubts He reassures me,
That He is sufficient and in Him I’m free.

And as one moment with Him turns to another,
My anxiety begins to lose its great, overwhelming power.
He reminds me that these moments will someday be a memory,
And I will be with Him for all of eternity.

All the moments of this life together do indeed overwhelm me,
But that is not all there is to this story.
This life shall last but for a moment and that moment is short,
But I will cherish it each day until He welcomes me to His courts.

Until that day, He is with me for this moment,
And for the next moment and every other moment.
Too many moments on my mind and I become stressed,
But by His grace and power, I can rest.


Listen to a spoken version below:

Words on Prayer

He beacons me to come to Him in prayer,
But so often I am lackadaisical.
Sometimes I’m tired and sometimes I just don’t feel Him near,
Sometimes I’m too paralyzed by my pride and my fear.

And what words can I bring and say to the Word?
Before I’ve spoken, He has already heard.
And He knows the true motivations of every thought,
Even the words that come from a place of spiritual rot.

Sometimes it seems I have too many,
And other times, I don’t have any.
Sometimes I mean them with all my being,
And other times they are just words my lips are speaking.

There are some words I can barely articulate,
They feel like a burden of crushing weight.
Others feel like I’m just saying what is expected,
Even though I feel quite disconnected.

But thank God almighty that He understands what He hears,
Even when I have nothing but uncontrollable tears.
He hears the words that my lips do carry,
As well as the ones I seek to hide and bury.

And if I’m honest, that gratitude is often combined with a bit of dread,
For He knows all I’ve said and all that I’ve left unsaid.
Yet somehow though He fully knows me, He still loves me.
And beacons me each day to taste and see.

He is patient and kind with me and my attempts at prayer,
My brokenness is never too much for Him to bear.
He is teaching me what it means to pray without ceasing,
As long as this heart in my chest keeps beating.

I do not know what to pray for as I ought to,
But the Spirit intercedes and follows through.
I am broken and I am weak,
But by the Spirit, still I shall speak.

The Sea & We

Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God, 6 who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, who keeps faith forever;

The sea is His, for He made it,
He knows every molecule within it.
He told the waves how far to go,
And created the creatures that call it home.

The sea is His, deep and vast,
Seemingly endless to us yet a mere drop to Him.
For we are finite but He is infinite.
No part remains uncharted or hidden to Him.

The sea is His, and sometimes He leads us to it,
And He commands even the winds that churn it.
Sometimes He calls us to walk on the water,
And is there to catch us when our doubts try to swallow.

The sea is His, and He has been known to use it,
And sometimes He uses even the big fish within it,
The fish isn’t appointed to simply devour,
But to rescue and change us, by His mighty power.

The sea is deep but we are in His hands.
For even if we find ourselves in its deepest depths,
Still we will be held in His righteous right hand.
Whether we are high or low, He remains firm like land.

We are His, for He made us,
He knows the number of hairs on our heads,
And sees all the days that we have breath.
Billions of people but no identical fingerprints.

We are His, vessels of wrath redeemed for His glory,
He knows us fully yet still loves us radically.
His love is more vast than any sea we encounter,
He has made us a part of His family forever.

We are His, and even when we start to doubt,
No waves intimidate Him from reaching His hand out,
No darkness impairs Him from seeing all.
When we are weak, He remains strong.

We are His, bought with a price at Calvary.
And in Christ there is no condemnation.
Nothing in all creation – not even the most raging seas –
Can separate Him from you and me.

Lessons From Flowers

Lessons from Flowers

The flowers in the garden may be unable to speak audibly,
but they can teach us and remind us of so much visibly.
They speak through metaphors and brilliant imagery.

They all need sun and water to grow and survive,
But like us, only under certain conditions will they thrive.
There is more to life than being labeled as “alive.”

The first crocuses of early spring,
Tell of the promises that the season will bring.
Reminding us of the nows and not yets, promised by our King.

As the season marches on, flowers grow and reach towards the sun,
They remind us to set our gaze on God’s Son,
To grow in relationship with our Savior, the risen One.

Their mere existence on even cloudy and stormy days,
is a testament to the sun’s presence when we cannot see its rays.
And like the sun, hope remains when we cannot see it through life’s haze.

The flowers in a garden don’t all bloom concurrently,
They all grow but their times and rates of growth vary considerably.
But they don’t compare their speeds, or fret about the future wearily.

They come in all sizes, shapes, and colors,
But that diversity makes a garden full of beauty and wonders,
Reminding us to love and appreciate our different sisters and brothers.

Some flowers are deemed as nothing more than weeds,
But what is a weed to some is a treasure to others indeed.
A reminder that a little perspective is something we all need.

The lilies of the field neither toil nor spin,
Yet God adorns them, reminding us to not be anxious within.
We can trust Him who is, will be, and always has been.

And as the grass withers and flowers fade,
Our earthly bodies will die and decay.
So let us be thankful and content today.

 

Living in the Saturday

We Live in the Saturday

The events that unfold in this world can shake us to our core,
The dreams we once had can fall and shatter on the floor.
Darkness descends and weighs heavy upon our souls,
And then we truly realize we were never in control.

We may wonder if there is any reason to continue on,
Forgetting the promise of the coming dawn.
For even in the darkness, hope is never lost –
It was forever won long ago on the cross.

Love was nailed to a rugged tree,
A disturbing truth, a gruesome reality.
In fear, His followers were scattered,
And in grief, their hearts were shattered.

But the tears they cried were not the end of the story,
God gets the last word and all of the glory.
His followers then did not remember his prediction,
But his followers now know that after mourning came celebration.

Like those followers of ancient days,
We don’t always understand His mysterious ways.
It’s easy to slip under the raging waves,
Taking our eyes off the One who saves.

We live in the Saturday,
and the tension is too much to bear some days.
But in the darkest of dark nights,
Our HOPE still shines bright.

We live in the Saturday,
but our HOPE will not betray.
Our God is the Master Storyteller,
And will be faithful to us forever.

We live in the Saturday,
and while these vessels do decay,
He will make all things new,
His word is forever true.

So in all our sorrows, pain, and strife,
We can hold fast to the giver of true Life.
Our hope is steadfast,
We will see Sunday come to pass.

Constant as the Sun

Constant as the Sun
The sun remains fixed in the sky at all times,
And even when we cannot see it, we can see its signs.

For every tree, shrub, and flower,
Is a testament to the sun’s power.

And while every sunny day must come to an end,
The sun is not gone even when darkness descends.

For when the sun sets in one place it rises in another,
And night comes to both the first and the latter.

You may not see it from your place on the earth,
But no matter how long the night, a new day will come forth.

Hope is present like the sun is present,
For in every moment, hope is existent.

We cannot always see it because of our perspective,
But sometimes our thoughts and feelings are subjective.

Hope remains fixed and true, and beacons us to continue on,
The darkest night of the soul will end with the coming dawn.

A Thousand Words & An Incomplete Story

A Thousand Words & An Incomplete Story

A picture may tell a thousand words,
but sometimes a thousand words aren’t enough.

A thousand words may tell quite a story,
but sometimes that story is fiction.

Sometimes the story the photo tells,
is not be the story the subject knows.

Sometimes the photo has pieces missing,
or intentionally cropped out.

Sometimes the photo is retouched,
altered, distorted, with filters applied.

What we see is not always enough
to know the full extent of the truth.

Your feelings may speak a thousand words too.
but they don’t always tell the full story.

Those feelings are indeed valid,
but they are not always truthful.

Sometimes we are like a thousand-piece puzzles
with less than a thousand pieces present.

Sometimes there’s not enough ink
to express all that we think.

Sometimes the story your feelings share
Is the exact opposite of truth.

What we feel is not always enough,
to know who we are or to Whom we belong.

A Known Enigma

A Known Enigma

I am an enigma, a mystery
What I say is not necessarily what I am thinking.
And what I do doesn’t necessarily represent my motivation.

I am a thousand piece puzzle,
With less than a thousand pieces present.
Even I cannot seem to put the pieces all together.

I am something that baffles,
Both myself and perhaps many others.
Chaos and confusion housed in my physical form.

I am an ocean of secrets,
And even I am afraid to swim to the ocean’s floor.
The depths are dark and dangerous, and not for the faint of heart.

But

To Him I am as clear as day,
Transparent, an open secret.
No clever words can mask what I’m thinking,
No lovely roses can hide the abhorrent stench of my sinning,
No sweat melodies can overpower the my internal screaming,
No fancy clothes can improve my being.

And

This is terrifying.
This is liberating.
This is the worst news.
This is the best news.

For healing can come only when the Healer knows what is ailing.

Casting: A Poem About Letting Go Of Anxiety

casting

You say to cast all anxieties on You,
And going through the motions, I say that I do.
But how many times have I cast
With strings still very attached?

Like a ball and chain imprisoning,
Or like a handle for carrying?
Checking in my luggage for the baggage car,
And re-claiming it again before I get too far?

Like a pack mule with a back aching,
I’ve trudged on in a desert of my own making.
Carrying baggage I’m not meant to carry,
My soul only becoming more and more weary.

My worries are really just masks for my heart,
Filled with pride, unbelief, and spiritual rot.
Heavy façades I got used to hauling,
That only grew heavier with every new morning.

These masks may have fooled me, but not my adversary.
He knows the truth of the weight that I carry.
He prowls around with never-ending hunger,
Seeking proud souls like mine to devour.

It became too much and I fell to my knees in exhaustion,
And in a moment of surrender, I was given the gift of adoption.
The LORD lifted me up and beckoned me to follow,
And reminded me there is no room for this particular cargo.

These masks had fooled others, but not my Father.
He knows all yet still loves and to me now gives the power
To stand, to resist, to let go of the masks, and to believe
Not criteria to meet but a gift to receive.

And with His gifts of grace and mercy,
He gives strength to throw what I once struggled to carry.
He cared for me today, He’ll care for me tomorrow.
Like the anxieties I cast now, I can cast the ones tomorrow.