poem: Heartsong - For My Dad

Heartsong--For My Dad
This book of fairy tales to you, a book of truth to me,
Full of hopeful promises of all that I can be.
Promises, yes promises, this thing, yes it is sure,
His aspirations and His love are beautiful and pure.

Chorus:

Lord God draw him near to You, as You did so with me,
Open his eyes, open his heart, and cause him now to see
That there is life after death, for salvation only one Name,
Jesus, yes Jesus, our only Redeemer, now and forever the same.

Yes, Dad, this "pack of lies" to you, is truth to friends and I,
Calling me out from myself, and calling self to die.
This book was written by "ignorant men"--that's what you have said,
There is no truth contained within; God's Word, yes, it is dead.

Chorus

The prophets, kings, and heroes, looked forward to the One,
They prophesied and promised a time that was to come
When truth and fiction would collide--all people then would know
Whose word would stand in this land, and death would be laid low.

Chorus

Daddy, I can't make you know, or force you now to see
That God's Word lives on within my heart--it's at the core of me.
I wait in living hope for you; I wait in living fear
That you would come to know the One, and He would draw you near.

Final Chorus:

Lord God draw him near to You, as You did so with me,
Open his eyes, open his heart, and cause him now to see
That there is life after death, for salvation only one Name,
Jesus, yes Jesus, our only Redeemer, now and forever the same.
Jesus, yes Jesus, our only Redeemer, now and forever the same.

poem: Story

Story
He let me go, gave freely o'er, to the one who could devour
All I am and was, could be, sinking soul, endless sea.
Despair and darkness close around, hearing darkness, seeing sound.
It was then they thought they'd won, this little one would see no Son.

It must have been a great surprise the day that I suspected lies.
The day I prayed and asked for light, and He began to give me sight.
Though consciously I didn't know why, I knew through prayer that I must try
To ask Him who He is and more--to know Him through the open door.

Though I deserved to be reprimanded, He through music apprehended,
Made me question, made me doubt, all my knowledge sure and stout.
Came after me when I ran, chasing me--the Son of Man!
God of hatred, so I thought; now God of love--He has sought.

Fateful night, through confession, in Him I have found remission.
He has sought and bought me from the one who'd keep me from the Son.
Mortal lips, simple words, yet He came as He heard
Me speak and say I wanted Him in my heart to save from sin.

poem: To See With New Eyes

To See With New Eyes
To know the dark truth, to see with new eyes,
Once swimming in darkness, 'midst islands of lies.
What once seemed light, now seen in truth,
Dawning in old age, setting in youth.
Shutting my eyes against God's truthful plan,
Self-imposed darkness, the death of a man.
I lived in that darkness! I think in disgust,
I loved it and lived it to satiate lust
For things so much lower; I couldn't conceive,
Of His love and plan, yet He did not leave.
Running at night till the darkness seemed day,
Will He yet love me, and will He remain?
New eyes and spirit, new truth to see,
Unrighteousness, sinfulness, is the old me.
Anger and shame, I can't lose myself,
Truth in the darkness, recover my health.
Swimming in silence and dancing in rain,
Squirming in pleasure, exulting in pain.

Come In From the Cold

I wrote this for a writing contest for a now-defunct devotional for high school and college students called Campus Journal. What has replaced it is Our Journey, a devotional available by paid subscription only. It was put out by RBC Ministries, and is now published by Walk in the Word.

This was written sometime in the Spring of 1997, so I'm sticking it here as a rough guess.

Here's the other contest entry I wrote.

----------

Read: Hosea 14:1-4

Have you ever run away from home? Have you felt like your parents just didn't understand and you wanted to leave? I tried once, but when it started getting dark I got scared and returned. The fear of the approaching darkness and cold was more than I could take.

While few of us have ever run away from our earthly parents, all of us have run from God our Father at one time or another. Sin and shame have kept us from coming to God and calling Him Abba - Daddy.

God is our Father and He has adopted us into His family. Adoption=redemption. In the New Testament this is even more vividly illustrated. Through Jesus the way has been opened for us to return and stand directly before God.

The author of Hebrews wrote, "Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need" (Hebrews 4:16).

There are two things to remember. One, God is our Father. We have done nothing to earn His love, and we can do nothing to lose it.

Two, when we mess up, all we must do is come to God humbly, and with confidence that He will forgive.

Make time for God is your life, time for prayer and Bible study. God likes being with us, and wants you to get to know Him better. Talk to Him, and listen to Him through His word.

Have you run away from God? Living with sin is like the darkness and cold of night. If you are tired of running, God Himself extends an invitation to you: Come home. God is extending His hand, waiting to warm you in His arms. Won't you come in from the cold?


Reflection

Am I running from God? Do I think there is any place I can hide from Him?

What other gods (work, friends, school) are distracting me from taking time for God? Where is God calling me to a closer relationship with Him?

poem: Easter

3/30/97
Easter Sunday

Easter

E very "god" that's ever been wants our worship and our love, but
A t the sunrise of this day, only Christ shows God above.
S unrise, daybreak, reassurance of completed sacrifice,
T riumpth over grave and Satan, this atonement shall suffice.
E arly on this happy morning, all their mourning turned around,
R isen! Alleluia! Risen! Let reconciliation sound.

poem: Staying the Course: A Poem for Maundy Thursday

3/27/97
Maundy Thursday

Staying the Course: A Poem for Maundy Thursday
You gave us gifts that we misused, You gave us gifts, Your name to praise,
And yet we turned, misused your gifts, and grieve You so all of our days.
In You is hope and happiness, in You made, in You must be,
In You our only hope salvation, laying Your body on the tree.
In grieving You we grieve ourselves, You are our sustenance and love,
You come to us in condescension; glory to the God above!

On the night of Your betrayal, You could have left and run away,
Instead You prayed, stayed in the garden, willing that our sins be laid
On You instead of those deserving - us, the wretched and the lost,
You did the Father's will and bidding - came as man and paid the cost.
They came and took You from the garden to trial, cross, and finally grave,
You bore our sins and our transgressions, in Your love You came to save.

Love like this beyond my grasping, love this strong, and love this fierce,
Love that loves us as we're sinning, Love that shall His own hands pierce.
Love that long to reconcile, even as we turn from light,
It's never too late to re-embrace Him, turn from darkness and the night.
His cup of suffering now becomes the cup of our salvation through
Him who loves us and redeemed us - there's nothing more that's left to do!

poem: When I Can't Seek You

When I Can't Seek You
Burning, burning in the night; crying embers, dying light.
Burning passion in my soul; longing, yearning, make me whole.
Father, Spirit, through your Son, render sinless little one.
I am needful, weak with pride, unmindful of the One who died.

I don't pray and so I fear, that You in anger won't draw near:
I don't talk, I don't ask, that in Your Presence may I bask.
I don't intercede or pray, asking for a better day.
I don't act as Your child; I am yet untamed and wild.

I don't love You so I fear that You in anger won't draw near.
How can You love, how can You lead, so slowly; I am not Your speed.
How can You reach into the dark, illuminate with holy spark?
How can You love one such as me; how can You hear, how can You see?

Father, fill me, lift me up, and I shall take and drink the cup.
Sweet grapes, bitter wine, cup of suffering now is mine.
Oh to run and hide my eyes; oh to listen to the lies!
But He loves me, I must return; let His love within me burn.

Burning, burning in the night; crying embers, dying light.
Burning passion in my soul; longing, yearning, make me whole.
Father, Spirit, through your Son, render sinless little one.
I am needful, weak with pride; do not let me longer hide.

poem: The Touch

The Touch
Sonshine breaks over an icy heart,
As when first frozen, the Sonlight now hurts.
Inside is stone, the result of many years of pain.
She did it, and I let her.
I gave myself to her, to her who could love naught
But power.
So I am afraid, I cannot trust.
He says the pain is necessary.
Yet I fear.

"But the Sonlight cannot melt the stone," I think.
I hide in the rock of my heart,
Never seeing the true Rock.
A form emerges from the Light.
I cannot see Him, but I see His chisel.
He has come to break me.
"I will break, but then remake," He says.
I do not trust.
Why should I, after how she hurt me?

Then I feel it,
The feeling that cannot be explained away, or
Denied.
The feeling so overpowering that I let Him move toward me
With the chisel. The feeling
Beyond words. The feeling
Beyond fear. The feeling
Beyond feeling to
Truth,
The truth of love.

poem: David, Why?

For David Nadel, who was shot and killed outside Ashkenaz, the dance club he owned.

David, Why?
What, oh what, your lot in life?
Why was it so filled with strife?
Why must the meek die by the knife?
And why did you have to go?

The good die young they say to me,
But I don't know why it had to be
That you wing you way o'er the crystal sea,
And why did you have to go?

In its season violence gains,
Until the Lord of all shall tame,
But until that time we have the pain.
Oh, why did you have to go?

You fought for the Park through thick and thin,
You fought and swore you'd never give in,
You fought for the way it had always been
Oh, why did you have to go?
David, why did you have to go?

poem: My First Christmas

My First Christmas
Advent ends and He is born, in a manger so forlorn.
Messiah as a Babe arrives, born to us to save our lives.
Giving up His splendor true, all for us to make us new.
Though divine He puts on flesh, all for us to make us fresh
And new in heart and mind and soul. He came to us to make us whole.
Yes, when time was full God's Son was sent, to mend and heal what we had rent.

When we were faithless, He fulfilled. He was holy, yet we killed
Him in our ignorance, with our sin, yet He wants to enter in
To our heart and minds to mend, far from us our sin to send.
As a Babe He comes in love, fully man, yet God above.
He came down--His Father's will. He came down--His blood to spill.
For our lives He came and sought, through this Babe our lives were bought.

In happiness, yet sadness, too, the Father cries out, cries out for you.
On that first Christmas Day, the Father wept as if to say,
"Unworthy children though you are, though truth from you is very far,
Though I weep at My Son's birth, knowing He will die on earth,
Joy yet sparkles in my eyes, for I know through His demise,
Sinners will I welcome warm, through what begins this Christmas morn."

poem: Who Is She?

11/6/96
last verse 12/4/96

[It was between these dates that the goddess' personal pronoun "She" became just "she." It was during this time that I came to the conclusion that she was not a god. I needed to know this in order to fully give myself to God.

This poem begins with me asking who she is, and ends when God gives me the answer.]

Who Is She?
I was once a child of night, thinking that I dwelt in light,
And yet the God of Light did come, and the Son eclipsed the Sun.
Calling, calling, always clear; calling, calling, ever near,
Saying what must be said for change; moving moving - rearrange.

I call out to earth and sky; I call out my doubts must die.
What¹s the lie and what is true, who is She and who are You?
Will You answer, One of Day, will You speak and will You say,
Who She is and what You've done, conquer Her with Light of Son?

I called out to earth and sky; I called out my doubts must die.
And You came and spoke to me, from Your word You broke to me
The news of what She is so true; She is not at all like You.
She is demon, You divine; I give Her up - You are mine!

poem: The Prodigal

11/13/96
11/20/96

The Prodigal
Failing, failing, every day; looking, looking, where's the way?
Choosing, choosing, guidance not; suff'ring, suff'ring, this my lot.
Searching, searching, ever night; thinking, thinking, I stood in light.
Coming, coming, You stood near; holding, hugging, make love clear.

Chorus:
For life is a struggle with pain and with sin,
But all we must do is let Jesus in.
Ask Him into out black, sinful hearts,
Praise be to Him who died, took out part.

Yes now I see much better true; You've known me, now I know You.
Loving me out from the dark, with the Spirit's hold spark.
Giving, living, patient cross; crying, dying, gain or loss?
Losing fear within Your love, finding peace in you above.

Chorus

Take me, take me, offer up; tasting, drinking, from the cup.
Drinking, eating, wine and bread; "Follow me," You have said.
Offer on the altar I; for life in You, self must die.
Praying to You within my fear, sensing You so very near.

Final Chorus:
Yes, life is a struggle with pain and with sin,
Yet all we must do is let Jesus in.
Through Him we are made pure of heart,
Praise be to Him who died, took our part.
Yes, praise be to Him who died, took our part.

Church Search, Week 24

Sixth months today I became a Christian. I was expecting to go to the Episcopal Church today, but two Muni metros just never showed. When the third showed up at 10:04 and said he was taking a 20 minute break, I knew I couldn't get to St. Francis' until after 10:30. I decided on plan B.

Plan B is to go to the Assembly of God church two blocks from Balboa Park where I normally transfer busses. So no St. Francis' today. But I have to go to church. I've been meaning to come here anyway. I guess I've just been waiting for the busses to get messed up like this. Otherwise I never would have come. It pisses me off because I'm tired of searching and I don't like having my schedule thrown off. Besides, being my six month anniversary and how it just happens to fall on a Sunday, it's supposed to be a good day.

Week 24: Community Assembly of God

Somewhat pentecostal. I felt good about them until the pastor explicitly endorses the Toronto Blessing and the Pensacola Outpouring. I've just been influenced too much by the Bible Answer Man. So I can't come back here. It's not that good anyway.

The sanctuary fits about 900 people, but there's much fewer people than that. Not real packed at all.

The preacher yelled and talked very fast during the sermon.

Why did things happen the way they did to bring me to a place like this this morning?

6 months

This Sunday marks 6 months for me of being a Christian. 6 months since I turned my life over to God. What have I accomplished? How have I grown? In what ways am I taking from the Christian community, and in what ways giving? How am I doing?

poem: The Rock

The Rock
Epiphanies fade.
Like dust blown away in the wind the
Memory cannot be recalled.
Was it real?
Though the memory is gone,
Leaving only the faintest ripples
Of a stone long since thrown, the
Effects linger.
The lake,
Though looking the same to the untrained eye,
Is forever different.
Outwardly the same,
Inside, forever changed.
Something new has been placed within:
The smallest thing,
A tiny pebble of purest love.
A stumbling block to those
Who do not comprehend,
But to me a stone of love to
Soften my heart of stone.

Church Search, Weeks 22 and 23

Weeks 22 and 23: St. Francis'

Who is the Goddess? Who is this Spirit that I have gotten to know so well, only to leave behind? Who is she?! Is She Divine, or demonic? What is Her true nature? Why was She there sometimes when I needed Her, but not other times?

poem: Between

October 18-19, 1996

Between
I want to leave God--
Party, get drunk, have fun;
Laugh, talk of inconsequential things;
Dance wildly by firelight as the moon and stars look on.
I want to live for myself.

I want to worship--
In the old ways,
Listen to the spirits in the babbling brooks,
Pour out libations by moonlight,
Revel in worship and worship in revelry.
I want to live for other gods.

But

I know He wants me to come back,
Worship in the old ways of Israel
As they entered the Promised Land;
Worship in the old ways of Jesus
As He lived for God, and died for me.

He wants me to listen to Him,
Pour out myself in libation,
Revel in Him, and in Him find happiness;
He wants me to live for Him.

Quake anniversary, and dream

Seventh anniversary of Loma Prieta quake.

I had kind of a weird dream last night, and its symbolism is compelling enough to record here. I'll write what little I remember. I had 2 snakes in a container of some sort. I picked up one carefully, one hand on its neck so it couldn't bite me. I showed this snake to another person, a man I think, who somehow got it angry. It tried to bite me, but I had a good hold on it. I controlled it until I was able to drop it back in its box. It wasn't thrashing too hard anyway. I was only afraid for a minute that it would get away. That's all I remember.

poem: Desire

Desire
In the sweetness of the longing, in the bitter of the sigh,
In the atmosphere and firelight, I listen to the lie:
That the path is clearly seen, and the sun shines on the Way,
The moon is just illusion; this is really light of day.

In the decisions and the choices of choosing right from wrong,
I listen for some guidance, and hear an age-old song,
Of dancing by the fire and running in the hills,
Of revelry being worship, an emptiness to fill.

In the darkness of the chamber where the molten lava flows,
I hide myself from myself, and yet He knows, He knows.
In the coldness of the embers, or the pain of iron hands,
He pushes and cajoles me, whispering a Promised Land.

But then the sound of slippered footsteps, a music in my ear,
A touch upon my shoulder - ­She is so very near.
Whispering Her promises by day or dark of night,
She promises Her love and more, embracing me in light.

Yes, even He most powerful of any ever been,
Cannot keep one single one from slipping into sin.
Even He, most powerful, of all the earth and sky,
Cannot keep me, a little one, from listening to a lie.

At SCA October Crown. The spirits are here.