I am lost in the glimmer of the glittering things,
The ones that sparkle and distract us from the path.
I am lost in the rush of the busiest things,
The traffic that breezes past the blessings of waiting.
I am lost in the clatter of the noisiest things,
The deafening hubbub that overtakes His quiet voice.
I am lost in the strictness of the scheduled things,
The routine that so often never includes Him.
I am lost in the channels of the electronic things,
The technology that I so brainlessly consume.
I am lost in the pageant of the American dream,
A casualty ensnared in a soon-to-be wasted life.
I was made for more than these hollow moments,
Made for more than anything this world can ever satisfy.
Am I lost or just less found?
On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me,
Is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
Because my comfort would prefer to be numb
And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become.
Category Archives: Poetry
Empty Hands
I know that I have not written in a while. Trust me, it’s not because I don’t have things to write about. I have about a dozen drafts waiting to be finished. Recently I just haven’t felt like writing with superfluous words… that and the fact that I am putting together two newsletters this week, so my free time is limited. However, I will leave you with a poem to ponder until my next writing. It is not mine in any way, but I have found it rather encouraging and thought-provoking.
One by one He took them from me
All the things I valued most;
‘Til I was empty-handed,
Every glittering toy was lost.
And I walked earth’s highways, grieving,
In my rags and poverty.
Until I heard His voice inviting,
“Lift those empty hands to Me!”
Then I turned my hands toward heaven,
And He filled them with a store
Of His own transcendent riches,
‘Til they could contain no more.
And at last I comprehended
With my stupid mind, and dull,
That God cannot pour His riches
Into hands already full.
- Author Unknown
And they flew.
“Come to the edge.”
“We can’t. We’re afraid.”
“Come to the edge.”
“We can’t. We will fall!”
“Come to the edge.”
And they came.
And he pushed them.
And they flew. -Guillaume Apollinaire
I absolutely fell in love with this poem the first time I heard it, because it’s so applicable to my life.
“We can’t. We’re afraid.”
How often is that our rapid response to God’s clandestine calling? When He calls us to to immerse ourselves in the unknown, why do we question Him? Our inventory of excuses comes immediately to mind as we writhe and fidget, nervous at the thought of something completely unfamiliar, of something completely unpredictable.
“God, I can’t share my faith with the girls at school. I might be rejected.”
“God, I can’t go and pass out tracks in the parks. People might see me and label me a freak.”
“God, I can’t talk to those kids. They’re unpopular.”
“God, I can’t….God, I can’t…”
Who says you can’t?
You do. I do. We box ourselves in. We feel like we don’t have the willpower to do it, so we don’t even try. I have this thing about me that if I don’t think I’ll be good at something, I never even try it. I give up too easily because it’s too hard. I give up because I don’t think I’m adequate. Or perhaps because I’m not going to be the best at it, so I won’t humiliate myself.
Think of the opportunities we miss, because we’re too busy biting our fingernails and staring out our feet, hoping God will pass us by and not ask us if we’ll go, if we’ll obey.
“Come to the edge.”
I love visualizing this scene in my head. Imagine a nest of little birds, sitting in the comfort of their secure nest, the only home they’re ever known, their safe-haven. Chirping merrily, they’re content to just sit there, pecking their brothers and sisters playfully, fluffing their feathers and staring blissfully out into the sunshine. Then all of the sudden the father bird comes up and tells his little children that it’s their day to leave the nest. I can just imagine their little bird jaw… er… beaks dropping open. “Wait… leave this?” Peeking their little eyes over the top of the nest, they look down, down, down for what seems like an eternity, and they ruffle their little feathers. One mutters a little, “I’m not jumping. Uh Uh. No can do.” Another states, “You want me to do what?!” and the third shuffles back and forth on spindly legs, looking up at her father with big eyes. “Daddy. I’m too afraid.”
“And they came.”
It might be dark, frightening, unknown, but it’s promising. God wouldn’t call us out to jump if he didn’t have some reason for it. When we take that little step, that little jump, it might feel like forever when we’re falling. We’re screaming and fighting for air, arms flailing, and in that moment, however long it may be, we have to remember that God is in control. Perhaps we’re venturing into the darkness, mind spinning, but we have to remember what’s on the other side of the edge. Even if we don’t know what it is.
“And they flew.”
Only then do we find our wings. We fly, because we took the step. We soar through experiences that we never would have dreamed of just standing at the cliff edge, sitting in the nest.
That’s why we take the step. No matter how afraid we are or how sharp the drop may be, we have to come to the edge. He has a reason for us to jump. He just wants us to trust Him. And when we take the step, the impossible becomes possible.
And we fly.
“What is impossible with men is possible with God.”
Untitled Poem
This is the first thing I have written in about 2 months…
You.
You know who you are.
The one who would hug away her pain.
The one who would wipe away her tears.
The one who would always bring a smile to her face.
The one who would always be there for her.
You promised.
But you were not who you said you were.
The one who leaves here alone to fight the pain.
The one who brings the tears to her eyes.
The one who made her forget how to smile.
The one who is never there for her.
You have forgotten her.
But she will never forget you.
No matter who you are, or what you become.
No matter where you go or how hard you fall.
She will always love you.
Remember her.
For she will always remember you.
She promised.
