and it's like
I can't even grasp Your love,
so You just keep pouring
and I am never
ever
left
empty-handed.

You already know this about me,
and you watch as the cycle repeats,
and repeats
and repeats
and You know it doesn't have to be this way.

It's not as if I can't pinpoint the problem,
I know the lies, or most of them
I know what needs to break
for freedom's sake.
Freedom that I already have, but that I've contained
with my own mind the padlock

condemning me to the very fate you died so I may conquer.

And so, with good intentions,
and my heart's desperate clutch for sincerity,
I pinpoint these lies,
the things that are void of You
and I vow to get rid of them.

Cold turkey. Uprooted. Gone.
So I may arrive at the destination before even embarking on the journey

But it's impossible,
because I'm not doing it through You who gives me strength,

I am doing it alone,
hoping gritted teeth and sweat will be enough to break the cycle,
hoping that if I take this burden on my shoulders and carry it far enough
I'll somehow be less disgraceful,
less disgusting
less ashamed

but my will is weak,
and my flesh roars for it's passions
and in seconds,
I've forsaken the almighty God, the Great I Am,
to fall into temptation's arms.
Sincerity is shattered on the floor around me,
and my heart bleeds for what it cannot achieve.

Expectations weigh like a thousand tons of water over me,
the ones I couldn't live up to,
self-imposed and suffocating.
I'm this far under and so far away,
my lungs fill with water instead of Your life giving breath
and the darkness appears
first in spots,
and then consumes.

And before I give in, my last fleeting thought is always
"where were You".

And then, Light
You rush in, You fill every pore
and grace is in my hands,
undeserved, and unearned,
a gift, given by my Daddy.
And I find joy in this, it makes my heart light
and my feet dance
and fills me with HOPE

ever elusive,
and so my fingers clamp down on it.
They twist it, and mangle it
and my touch changes hope, and imprints my own selfishness on it.
And suddenly I cease to chase Your dreams,
but pursue myself.

And the cycle repeats
and repeats
and repeats

But my heart knows this hope... that You are working on this with steady hands,
gently and patiently.
You lead me through the desert and whisper tenderly to me.
You restore my vineyards.
And I know I am in a process of  becoming re-defined by grace.
That this cycle will be broken once and for all,
and Your victory will sound like trumpets
and the crumbling of strongholds,
the sound of angels songs
and of a daughter's thankfulness.

In auburns, yellows, golds, and reds,
like these fall trees, its a time to shed.
and so, I'm letting all this fall away....

my reputation.

my control.

my need to understand.

my fears and doubts.

my world distorted take on what i am worth.

my pride.

my lust.

my inaction.

my failure, and my fear of it.


Its time for these roots to go deeper still,
to endure the winter storms
and see the new growth of spring
as the living waters of God seep down
and the wind comes like His breath,
giving life

where I was dead.

A friend turned 17 today. The posts on his wall were somewhere along the lines of "Yeah dude! You'll be legal next year! Yeaaaah buddy!"

I just thought that was sad.
So he turns 18, then what? What is the next milestone he lives for? What does he fill his life with as he seeks out something to fill the hole in his heart that just gets bigger with every temporal pleasure he tastes? When does  he become numb to the emptiness, or does he just keep seeking a new high?

And little does he know... he is loved by the Most High. That there is a God out there whose heart is breaking to see his desperate search and his world-blinded eyes. How he longs to pull the blindfold off, how he longs for him to know His love!

And then there is me... given the gift of grace, tasting the goodness of the Savior. How amazing is it that when I seek, I will find? That when I feel empty, that I will be filled to overflowing, because God has so much more for me than the world. And I sit here, having just stained my hands with my own sin, and I find myself perplexed. He dips my hands in blood and they come out clean. He fills me with a renewed purpose and tells me next time, I'll deliver the blow. And then He gives me strength.

What amazing love...
how I wish I was a better example of it to this friend,
and to a world crying out for it.

That's MY King!

Hear what the LORD says to you, people of Israel. This is what the LORD says:
   “Do not learn the ways of the nations
   or be terrified by signs in the heavens,
   though the nations are terrified by them.
 For the practices of the peoples are worthless;
   they cut a tree out of the forest,
   and a craftsman shapes it with his chisel.
 They adorn it with silver and gold;
   they fasten it with hammer and nails
   so it will not totter.
 Like a scarecrow in a cucumber field,
   their idols cannot speak;
they must be carried
   because they cannot walk.
Do not fear them;
   they can do no harm
   nor can they do any good.”
  No one is like you, LORD;
   you are great,
   and your name is mighty in power.
 Who should not fear you,
   King of the nations?
   This is your due.
Among all the wise leaders of the nations
   and in all their kingdoms,
   there is no one like you.
  They are all senseless and foolish;
   they are taught by worthless wooden idols.
 Hammered silver is brought from Tarshish
   and gold from Uphaz.
What the craftsman and goldsmith have made
   is then dressed in blue and purple—
   all made by skilled workers.
 But the LORD is the true God;
   he is the living God, the eternal King.
When he is angry, the earth trembles;
   the nations cannot endure his wrath.
  “Tell them this: ‘These gods, who did not make the heavens and the earth, will perish from the earth and from under the heavens.’”
  But God made the earth by his power;
   he founded the world by his wisdom
   and stretched out the heavens by his understanding.
 When he thunders, the waters in the heavens roar;
   he makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth.
He sends lightning with the rain
   and brings out the wind from his storehouses.
  Everyone is senseless and without knowledge;
   every goldsmith is shamed by his idols.
The images he makes are a fraud;
   they have no breath in them.
 They are worthless, the objects of mockery;
   when their judgment comes, they will perish.
 He who is the Portion of Jacob is not like these,
   for he is the Maker of all things,
including Israel, the people of his inheritance—
   the LORD Almighty is his name.