tired of chasing sunshine
I tucked the sun into bed today
She was sick, so I laid gray clouds around her
Just a little sleep, a little time, and soon
she will light up the day again.
.
Light rain is wooing her to sleep
Pitter patter patter patter
slow and innocent, peaceful, and harmless
it comforts her heart.
.
Someone bumped the vase to the floor
It was a clumsy mistake
but now there is broken glass everywhere
and no one is to blame.
.
as the rain leaks through the roof
and the water seeps into the carpet,
so her tears will escape for a moment
her breath caught in a memory.
.
the sun will dance tomorrow
she will paint colors back into the world
just give her time
be patient and let her sleep today
the broken people
yesterday i was in a conversation with an english professor, his friend, who is a historian from new zealand, and a few friends of mine. it quickly turned into a discussion about how politics have changed the way we view religion. they were referring to constantine, who changed the establishment of the church from being run predominately by females to a patriarchal system. they talked about the impact the american government had on polygamy among the mormons. they discussed the steering away from latin masses. and they mentioned the instances of women being forced to full facial coverings in the middle east when the koran only states to cover ones hair.
…i’m sure this has something to do with our desires to fit a incomprehensible, sovereign God into our finite minds, and into our busy, prideful, precious lives.
a political platform might be desirable to proclaim a religious agenda to the masses. however, christianity thrives when it is marginalized, not when it is watered down to conform into something anyone can swallow. the cross is offensive, beautiful and discipleship is hard. but when you fix your eyes on jesus, the things of this earth will grow strangely dim….
in progress
from dust we come and to dust we will go. so why are we content with living in the empty shadow of the mundane? in secret, we hope for glory and fame, and yet as our flesh turns to dust all we can claim is our name and perhaps the pain that we gained from this game called life.
we are so busy pursuing those things that in the end, moths will eat and rust will destroy. filling our minds and our hearts with kisses of futile adventures, we want to get lost in something so overwhelmingly bigger than us. yet when the clock strikes midnight, we aren’t satisfied, because we got to dance with the prince, but we remember that from dust we came and to dust we will go.
so what do we do?
i think the only thing we can do is plead to the One that defied death. the One that can put flesh on dry bones, raising up an army of very awake men from the valley of the dead. the One that we crucified. the One that i now glorify, and identify myself with because he supplied my dry and weary soul with fountains of living joy.
He proclaims a love that i can’t comprehend. a love that extends to the weak, that i don’t need to defend because it transcends all of my fears. if i am capable of such brutality as crucifying my beloved, then why did he go to the throne for me, to beg for mercy on my behalf? this is a love that i cannot understand. so here i am on bended knees with a broken heart to a holy Savior, asking Him to take my life to the refining fires.
