Before & After

Once you were a carcass

with a throbbing thing inside,

a complicated, corrupted heart

that ate up every lie.

 

So small and feeble,

weak, and unknowingly evil,

unaware of hoarding vain treasures

to your own harm.

 

Run by every wind of trend,

arbitrary in reasoning,

and turning every which way

at every fleeting promise ever made.

 

Restless at last you were found.

Shined on in your dark,

self-defeated on the ground.

        This is when God came in.

 

Picked up and laid on His shoulder,

given food and water and rest and

He wants to invest Himself in you.

 

You were not meant to be swept up

in the tide of this age like a broom

to a dustpan with no purpose.

 

You were not meant to be an empty vessel,

or for happiness to wrestle,

but chosen to contain a golden treasure.

 

And you weren’t meant to be down-worn,

but you were meant to draw strength

from that golden treasure store.

 

Not your own effort but His grace, His faith.

Not material blessing, but diving into

His riches, on His very self to gaze.

 

Standing firm and unshakable,

never hopeless on the floor,

but deeply rooted and grounded in the Lord.

 

That is why God came in.

 


Ecclesiastes 1:14 & 5:13; Luke 6:48 & 15:5; 2 Corinthians 4:7; Galatians 2:20; Ephesians 2:4-5

Today

I wrote something new

but then ripped it in half,

tried writing again

but I couldn’t go back

to the feeling that lied

on the black and white lies,

the feeling that lied

on my ribcage inside.

 

I wrote something new

but realized it old,

the same words from past years

of rhythm and coldness

and nonsense of

missing and reminiscing

and limbo and fishing

for something new to write.

 

I wrote circles around this,

tried to get past this,

found it awful to carve it down,

carve it outside me.

like dragging old bones

and expecting them to walk,

waiting for time to work

and light to search–

 

And so I stopped writing.

 

To pull away for a moment,

to stop digging and picking

and to let the light grow

was needed.

there was the winter and rest,

the killing snow and rain

for replenishing, healing,

and washing away.

 

So no more empty words,

no more torture of ruminating to

illuminate something in darkness.

there is just today,

with a clean page

and a fresh start

to write with boldness

concerning the truth.

This is You

It didn’t show,

but the last time you were here

was like a thunderstorm–

and life was much kinder to you then.

 

But this time, it’s sunshine.

And rocket-ships of joy.

They flood the sky in streams of fireworks and stars,

making all shadows vain.

 

Because how much brighter can the sky get?

And here you are, thriving in it.