Poor.

Wide eyes, soft and gentle
A spark of excitement
A twinkle of joy
Smiling now
The big kind of smile
The blown away kind
The smile you give after your breaths been stolen
Your affection captured
When your heart is so overwhelmed, it almost hurts
The tears start to well up
On the verge of overflowing
Arms are now opened
And with it the tears can’t be stopped
Slowly trickling from his deep eyes
Rolling down the face
Making all the suffering worth it
Complete, its perfectly complete now
Only I don’t accept it
This unconditional love
I’m scared, not used to it
I hold on to my mistakes
My memories, my stains
My sin, myself
Given freely, without reservation
Given out of a loving heart
No strings attached
Simply given
And at a price to large for me
This gift, this love
I want to accept it
Help me . . . help me
Undeserving, not near worthy
Poor and ungrateful
Poor and guilty
Poor and needing
I’m spent, help me receive it
Help me see me as you do
Just help me
My lover
The lover of my soul, my heart, body
The lover of me
Rags and all
The lover of me

September 11th.

Today is alot. I don’t know what to write or to say. I didn’t think I would feel this way but I’m speechless. A whole new set of emotions is welling up in me today that I didn’t feel last year. To sit here and listen to the names of those who were lost, be read one at a time, non-stop, is chilling. Over 3,000 stories have quit being told. 3,000 lives that are have been robbed of the joy of living. The joy of watching your son at a t-ball game. The joy of giving your daughter away at her wedding. The joy of waking up next to your husband or wife. 2 hours of names. They just kept coming and coming. 2 hours . . . I wonder what some of these people would do with 2 hours.

God’s Delight.

God’s Delight In Me

The pain of the cross was not for nothing. The agony and toil was not without a purpose. He did not give up His son and turn His back on Him for an hour, for the sake of doing it. Everything from the beginning of time until now, all of history has led up to this point. All the plans, all the sacrifice has led up to this moment, this life. My road that he has guided, my life that he has molded, my circumstances that he has crafted all lead up to our friendship. Our mutual love. One for another. But my love is tainted. It comes from my impure motives. It’s not a perfect love. I wish it were though. Then I would feel a little prouder in my meager offerings. But that’s not what He wants. He’s not looking for much. He knows I don’t have anything to offer that He doesn’t have. He knows that I offer so little in comparison to His resources. But that “little” is what He prizes more than anything. More than everything He created. More than everything He owns. More than anything He has access to (and He has access to everything). He desires me. This is why he did everything. This is what its all for. For me. For us. All the tears, all the pain, all the glory, all the love. For the sake of me. Its in His nature. Its who He is. Its Him, the creator of love. Love itself.

“If God stopped thinking of me, He would cease to exist.” – 15th Century Theologian Angelus Silesius

“God by definition is thinking of me.” – Brennan Manning

Current.

What’s in my cd player this week: David Crowder Band – Can You Hear Us, Enter the Worship Circle – 2nd Circle, Coldplay – A Rush of Blood to the Head, Moby – 18, Blindside – Silence, The Supertones – Chase the Sun

What I’m reading this week: Ruthless Trust by Brennan Manning, Romans, Acts, Psalm 119

Confident Foolishness.

Confident Foolishness

Confident foolishness. Thinking we know everything, when indeed we know nothing. The profound, mind-numbing, exhaustive depth of the Creator of Earth and his unexplainable and unimaginable glory is not known to us. No, it is not known by us. It is true that we know a god. But it is not the god that IS. Images and ideas have been formed in our minds, with our hands, in our hearts. But they’re all cheap plastic. They don’t represent the holiness, the glory, the bottomless pit of sheer power. The same which was seen by the three confident ones on the mountaintop, is not seen by us. Peter, James, and John thought they knew God. They thought they had experienced everything. They got to see the miracles. They got to look into the eyes of the one who was above everything. They shared with Him. They ate with Him. And yet . . . they had no clue. On the mountaintop, He was too big. Too much. Unexplainable to the ones who were self-assured in their knowledge of their friend. It was true that they loved Him with their whole heart, and it was true that they He loved them with His whole heart. But they had no clue. Not a hint of the purity and truth of it all. And neither do we.

It’s a mystery. The mystery of God. To say we understand and know is utter ignorance. We don’t have a trace of what it means. Who He is. How full He is. How absolute. We simply run around, with our hands stretched out in a dark room, groping at anything with substance to sustain us. I’m assured of one thing. There is someone out there larger than me, who is above me, who longs for me, and who died for me. Other than that, I don’t have the faintest grasp on anything. I wish I did and I think do. But I don’t.

The book of Job says: “Then Job replied to the Lord: I know that you can do anything, and no one can stop you. You ask, ‘Who is this that questions my wisdom with such ignorance?’ It is I. And I was talking about things I did not understand, things far too wonderful for me. You said, ‘Listen and I will speak! I have some questions for you, and you must answer them.’ I had heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance.”

I don’t think God is mad at us though because we don’t know. I honestly think he laughs at us. He sees us running around like busy ants. Going in one direction one minute, then darting off in another the next. Passionately seeking after Him one minute, overwhelmed and dejected in another. I think He understands our limited wisdom. Our inferior knowledge. Our diluted understanding. And I think He smiles. He didn’t create us to know answers, to understand all there is to know about Him. He created us to commune with Him. To have a friend. To have someone to love and to look forward too. So yeah, I think He laughs at us. We think we know, but we have no idea. We can’t even fathom what the Truth really is.

Donald McCullough in his book, The Trivialization of God, has a chapter called “In Praise of Agnosticism.” In that chapter he writes: “The agnostic, neither denying nor affirming the existence of God, allows for a remote, impersonal cosmic force that is utterly unknowable. Given that stance, the agnostic is spared having to repudiate the puny, pathetic images of God that scar many a Christian heart and conscience.”

Don’t get me wrong. I know God and He knows me. But that may be all I know, and honestly that may be all I need to know. Then again, I could be wrong about all of this. Like I said, I don’t have a clue.

God be merciful to me, a sinner, a confident fool. Confident of nothing and foolish in everything.