A Poem

What strangest duty of human soul!

To live a life of large and small!

One day is great, another belittled,

One meets his fate, another is healed,

To one a vast estate, another impoverished,

While one is strong, another is famished,

What can be hoped for,

Amidst these mortal chains?

The wounds of friends are to be cherished,

The Hope of all, for sin did perish, yet rose again,

Wrought Death its end, now stands again,

Rends man of filth, and spares God's wrath,

Dissects the heart, knows its intent, transforming us

To the likeness of Him, to Whom we are less,

Yet called His kin; He calls us in, blood-washed of sin,

The Redeemed, -those called apart to Him!

-"Jeremy" C.

Do I Even Know?...

Psalm 19:

"The heavens declare the Glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard."

What is man, that You are mindful of him? Do I even know how great Your love is, O, Lord?

A Dying Game Of Shame

It sucks. It can eat you alive, spit you back out, laugh at you, then torture you again for kicks. Like playing a lottery, It beckons you softly for 'just one more shot'. Who knows? maybe this time, you'll win something worth your while.

A menace It is, talking gently to you one moment, and when It has your ear, It leads you back in and when It has had Its way casts you back out naked on the pavement. Then It mocks and scoffs you for your behaviour, beating you with the whip of your own disgrace. Like any abusable drug or substance, you keep going back -hopelessly searching for a faint memory of the the now tiny pleasure you once found now buried in a mountain of lies. Of course, you can quit anytime.

You can still recall the beauty It first held out, tenderly, to your innocent arms when you first met It. Back then, you remember the short time It once captivated you as you danced in Its arms, feeling a simple joy you never knew before It came into your life. Now, It dominates you like an abusive boyfriend to a shy and scared women who knows no way to escape the blows rained down for fear of more beatings. No matter how bad things are, they could be worse, you keep telling yourself. So you continue to appease It. Besides, if you come out and talk, no one will like you anymore. No one knows what you've done. No one sees what you see. You're the worst pile of dung on the face of the planet. No one can help you. You need to do this alone. Even though you can't.

You've tried everything you know of, but nothing changes. Maybe you've even wanted to kill yourself; (so did I, or so I thought). You scream your lungs dry and parched and cry your pillow wetter than a sponge, and still find no release. Which way is up? You can't feel anything anymore. And still It comes back. It was, after all, once your best escape from this confusion,... ...NO!! NOT AGAIN!!! But maybe, just once more...as it is, you have no power to resist Its electric tractor-beam pull...

...and the cycle repeats one more horrible time. You abhor your life. What, if any, is the purpose of this lousy existence?

Psalm 51:

"Have mercy on me, O God, According to your unfailing Love; according to Your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against You, You only have I sinned and done what is evil in Your sight, so that you are proved right when You speak and justified when you judge. Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me. Surely You desire truth in the inner parts; You teach me wisdom in my inmost place. Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity. Create in Me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from Your Presence or take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me. Then I will teach transgressors Your ways, and sinners will turn back to You. Save me from bloodguilt, O God, the God who saves me, and my tongue will sing of Your Righteousness. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare Your praise. You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; You do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart O God, You will not despise. In Your Good Pleasure make Zion prosper; build up the walls of Jerusalem. Then there will be righteous sacrifices, whole burnt offerings to delight You; then bulls will be offered on Your alter."

-A Psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba (side note)

Even David, the King of Israel, and a 'man after God's own heart' according to scripture wrestled with lust, then committed adultery and then had someone murdered to cover for it (2 Samuel 11-12) and God forgave him.

Also, in Isaiah's prophecy about Christ we read: "Surely He took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered Him stricken by God, smitten by Him and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way, and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Isaiah 53:4-6

You are not the only one.

There is Hope.

His name is Jesus.

How Ridiculous

I remember as a child once when my dad took me out to the deep end of a pool. I was on a boogie board, and he was towing me with a rope. Excited though I was to be going where only the adults or the more talented of my younger friends were allowed, I was scared to death of falling off, or of some grievous happening in which I would sink and my father would be suddenly (though inexplicably) unable to assist me. Ironically, I remember thinking I could brave the 'deep end' of that same pool on my own. I'd be fine, I didn't need the worrying eyes of my parents looking on; I could do this alone. Somehow.

My assumption is that my dad loves and cares enough (then & now) that he'd never let something bad happen, or, -if anything did go wrong- he'd do anything in his capablity to reconcile the situation. (It was, after all, just my uncle's backyard swimming pool, not even one of those sketchy public ones with all the maniacal children running around.)

Saturday night found me driving home from a friend's place late at night in some dark mountain roads. I came to a place where I had two options of a route home; 1); drive through the more well-lit populated places (and take longer to do so) or 2); drive more dark and spooky -uh, I mean adventurous- mountain roads (no street lamps) and save time. The fear bug was coming back.

Having some faint foreboding of an imminent disaster that would seem to happen regardless of my choice, I mulled it over back and forth while I stopped for gas. Of course, my last option was to pray and throw my trust to God, but I did so reluctantly at the end. It doesn't really matter which way I went, because then it happened. Nothing incredibly horrible, that is. I made it home perfectly safe.

To think that when I venture out into an unknown spot in life that contains an adventerous quality -along with the impossibility of predicting an outcome; if I can't look to heaven, toss my hands in the air and say something like, "God, You've got this down already, I'm lost!" then what good am I going to be? Jesus had to be woken up from a nap on a boat in the middle of a raging storm on the high seas (Luke 8:22-25) because his shipmates were scared. He wasn't the crazy one; He knew logic. More importantly, He knew His Father.

So, whats so ridiculous? I am.