Love’s Communication

Our world is filled with every kind of mass-produced platitude,
But hollow words of encouragement yield only a hardened attitude.

Words are important but sometimes they are cheap too,
If not accompanied by some sort of follow-through.

For, I can say you are loved, I can say you are seen,
But without my presence, these words are almost mean.

Like a twisted blade instead of a carefully yielded scalpel,
The truth can be freeing or it can be just another shackle.

Nobody is helped by half-hearted, anemic words of comfort,
Shared by a desire to ease one’s own guilt and discomfort.

Communication is truly more than the words I am speaking,
So let me communicate with all of my being, following Christ’s leading.

Jesus saw the ones society tried to hide,
He spoke their name, calling them to His side.

He cherished the ones society abandoned to their transgression,
Giving them a clean start and the unmerited gift of redemption.

He ate with those known only by their shame,
Never condoning their sin but instead giving them a new name.

He took on a humble role of servitude,
Giving His life as a ransom for a multitude.

He cared for even the one who would betray,
For that is true Love’s chosen way.

He loved us with His life and loves us still today,
And calls us by name to humbly follow Him along His way.

To go to Samaria even when there is a way around,
Showing and telling of His grace that does abound.

To reach out to the weak, the sick, and the downtrodden,
Reminding them that they are not alone nor forgotten.

To love thy neighbor as thyself,
Serving without thought of praising self.

To bow down like our Savior did to wash His disciple’s feet,
Extending care and compassion to all that we meet.

To believe that the God who has plans for us has plans for them too,
Knowing that He can make even hopeless things new.

To speak life and not just words devoid of genuine care,
Pointing to the God who loves and came to repair.

He loved us first, and so by His Spirit we can love each other,
And not only by the words our lips can utter.

Words are indeed a vital tool of communication,
But true love speaks with both words and their application.

The tongue of the wise can indeed bring help and healing,
But only if it follows true Love’s council and leading.

Empathy in the Rain

These days, empathy feels like a heavy burden to carry.
The road feels endless, though this time is temporary.

I try to remember the sun is still there when the weather is dreary,
But with so much bad news and hurt, I am weary.

I tend to internalize and swallow it all down,
Yet I know that the inevitable conclusion of that is a breakdown.

This burden is more than I can carry.
Casting it on Him is necessary.

When the burden is laid in His capable hand,
Empathy is a gift to help me do what He has planned.

To love when it hurts and it cuts so deep,
To be patient and kind with my fellow hurting sheep.

No dark valley is outside His watchful eye.
And in the rain, hope still shines in the sky.

None of this is okay, and neither am I.
But the Hope of the world still draws nigh.

He is teaching me to love as He has loved me,
And in that love, I am truly free.

Not free of hurt, not free of pain,
But free to love, and to praise Him while out in the rain.

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.