foolishnotions.net

desperate and wanting, you are undisciplined!

i’d teach you manners like, “speak when spoken to, and not out of turn.”

or, “sit quietly until summoned to the floor.”

but, suppression is a cruel asphyxiation.

absolution from such polite prison releases a deranged sound.

an unlovely disgorging of heart, mind &  soul.

your unbridled assertions are raw and uncouth.

but, there is awakening on your lips.

an unburdened passion in your articulation.

so, you must speak.

and, i must give you voice.

one perhaps more refined… but not civilized.

i’ve been rummaging through my files, trying to do a little tidying up. i’m finding so many things that i had forgotten about. this is the narration i wrote for our christmas production in 2006. i know, christmas is over. but, if i waited till next christmas i would forget it forever. and, i like this. there, i said it. yes, it is ok to like the things god produces through us. i’m not being prideful – i’m thankful and very humbled. i love what it do… and i love that he fills me full of it. (and, i’ve been told i’m definitely full of it.)

(part 3 is my favorite… so if you are an impatient blog reader, please skip down to the last part.) 

1 —
O come, o come Emmanuel. The cry of God’s people for the promised Redeemer so long ago still resounds out of the deepest part of humanity. God be with us, draw near to us, dwell among us. It’s a yearning which leads us on a life long journey; the destination… meaning – - purpose. Throughout history mankind has navigated the endless explanations for our existence in search of the author of the universe and keeper of our soul. Heaven looks on with edge of their seat anticipation as the story of creation unfolds like a rare flower awakening to dawn’s light. Angels stand in utter amazement when man, without the benefit of ever seeing God’s face, manages to sift through the vast labyrinth of religion, science and social politics to find the truth of his creator. All heaven rejoices together with creation, and the redeemed can hardly contain it. The angels stand in awe at the passionate expression that is produced when a man worships God out of a heart once lost, without hope and pointless – now redeemed, given purpose and a future. It’s the story of hope. It’s the story of triumph. It’s the story of Christmas…

2 —
Such an unimaginable gift…the long awaited King of Kings, the Savior of the world, the very presence of God Himself sent to earth to dwell among us! We must have something to offer Him, but what? What can we possibly have to offer the Creator of the Universe? What could we give that could possibly compare to what He has given us? “Lord, in humble adoration, we offer up a sacrifice of praise before You today. May it be a pleasing fragrance to you. This is a costly gift….our most generous offering. With absolute abandon now, we pour out this priceless vile of worship over You.”

3 —
It has been said that God gave the greatest gift of all – His Son Jesus. But perhaps there is a gift just as precious, a gift of such exceeding value that it would cause God Himself to hope.

Each of us carries within us a gift suitable for the King of Kings. It’s worth is indiscernible by it’s appearance, where it comes from or what it feels like. It is our heart , our passion… that rhythmic force within us that pulses, “live for this… LIVE for THIS!” Our hearts contain the very dream of God exactly the way He wanted it. He dreamt it, created it, purchased it and then relinquished it into our care the moment we drew first breath.

And so we all posses this…a gift of incomparable treasure, yet not for us. It needs to be given away. For, a gift that has been purchased and not given loses value and lacks purpose. It will sit unused and no one will ever know what was truly inside.

God yearns for the day when the value of our gifts are realized – the day they are given back to Him; The moment we proclaim to Him, “Lord, this is Our Everything, Our Fragrant Offering. Our passion, our desire, all the contents of our heart we freely choose to return to You! We choose to give You liberty to express Yourself through us! We choose to give You glory not take it for ourselves. Just be near to us, God. Dwell here, Emmanuel.” I can just picture Him embracing his long awaited gift, tearing away the outer layers exposing His dream.

Maybe, like the Little Drummer Boy, we can make God smile… Perhaps this is the greatest gift…

trees sopped in monet paint
hung against an ansel sky
van gogh elements
blow wildly across picasso lines

profit in drought
necessity in harshness
nothing is fully alive
as when it has died

adversity blooms in celebration
death desires a joyful dance
passion releases a hue unrestrained
purpose, in burning brilliance

change as certain as god unchanging
immortal life finds repose
a pause to re-purpose
tomorrow a new masterpiece to compose

Today I have been cleaning of my desktop at home. I stumbled on this poem I wrote during the Legacy series. I totally forgot about it. I remember I wrote it based on a scripture in Isaiah, but now I don’t know where it is or what it says. I recall more about the commentary I read about it. It painted a very clear picture to me of my salvation. God had His back to me but only a breath away…just a millimeter, but I couldn’t see Him because it was so dark. When I asked Him to turn around He turned instantly, quickly…flooding light all around me and striking down, violently and instantly everything I now saw in the light that would seek destroy me. It was like a father protecting His child or a husband defending his bride. It was fast, decided and motivated by pure passion. It was an intense, vivid and awesome depiction of my salvation. I don’t think I will ever forget it. So, anyway… I wrote this poem, which at the time I didn’t like, of course, cause I never like them at first – - plus, it seemed a little dark to me at the time. Now I read it again and I do like it… because it made me remember. I don’t have a great title for it so I called it, Legacy. Pastor B, maybe you can help me remember which scripture it was…

—

so close
a millimeter a vast gulf to be crossed
scrim thick as smoke a choking black sludge
darkness threatens to subjugate destiny
only truth can subvert

turn around
melt this tarred filth with your light
rend these barriers i’ve pinned in place
blind with ignorance and repulsive pride
all senses fail save my will
only grace can wash clean

trample down
in swift and violent wrath
terrorize and maim this devourer
to torment and pain me no more
incinerate into oblivion the memory of them
set your creation free

remember not
my soulish past
recall no more my shame
see me only perfect
passion ablaze beyond the scope of emotion
speak over me peace, rest and prosperity

show me
a close and kindred soul
entrenched in humanity’s filth
show them how to remove the veil
that will cause you to
turn around
and trample down
and recall no more their shame
that you could set them free
and speak over them
passion, peace, rest and prosperity