Hopeless

If the devil,
Once an angel,
Clothed in white,
Much holier than I,
Was cast out of Your presence
Because of his pride, his greed, his desire to be You,
How much more do I deserve to be thrown out of Your sight?
For through my futile attempts
To independently manage the structures of my life,
I attempt to be You:
Strong enough to get by on my own,
Yet disillusioning myself
With my own falsely painted canvas
Of unattainable hope.

[written December 13, 2010]

If Christmas Had a Heart, It Would Harbor a Gaping Hole

Mistletoes and Santa's clothes

Elfish ears and Rudolph's nose

Large pine trees and snowy streets

Eggnog milk and ginger treats

Mittens, scarves, hats, and boots

All he wants is his missing tooth

Red poinsettias and hanging wreaths

Fireplaces and presents beneath

Ribbons, scissors, masses of tape

Apples, cinnamon, round fruit cakes

The green Grinch in his greedy lair

Stockings hang by the chimney with care

Cookies and milk set the night before

Elves painting toys in the cold north pole

Ornaments and nutcracker toys

Dolls for girls, footballs for boys

Homemade fudge and jingle bells

Mint and pomegranate smells

Candy stripes of red and white

Window displays of beaming lights

Mulled wine and warm mince pies

Sleigh bells ring from way up high

Rocking around the Christmas tree

A miniscule scene of the nativity

Mommy kissing the big red man

Daddy in the kitchen cooking the ham

The heart of Christmas beats fast, and steady

So many themes to make us feel ready!

But if on my birthday, the spotlight is on me,

Why is that not the case for the King?

I bid you remember, remember the reason

We're given the blessing of such a season

Quite the excitement to partake in all of these delights

But we would never know Christmas if it weren't for Christ.

[written December 16, 2010]

The Scarlet Letter

"Come now, let us reason together," says the Lord. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool." Isaiah 1:18

Crimson red, a stain so contrite

A black so bright, it pierces straight through the night

Scarlet tissues, scarlet veins

Scarlet, crimson, blood-stained hands

The guilt of our lives plastered flat on our chest

We're dirty, dishonest, disobedient, depressed

The hope that rode on the flaming tongues

Once burned in our souls but now is expunged

Come now, let us reason together

A sentence to death, we deserve no better

Though our sins are like scarlet, they're washed white as snow

A white no eye on earth could ever know

The guilt of our future, our present, our past

Hypocrisy so clear they see through us like glass

We're supposed to be the church, meant to be just like Christ

But all they see hanging on us is a tag with a price

That price is death, but no longer it dangles

It was nailed to the tree with the wrists and the ankles

Our sins abundant, yet our sins no more

A peace that surpasses while our souls are at war

Come now, let us reason together

A sentence to death, we deserve no better

Though are sins are like scarlet, they're washed white as snow

A white no eye on earth could ever know

[written March 10, 2010]

Waves

love like an ocean

drowning my sorrows

retreating from the shoreline

unearthing my withered shells, sticks and stones

yet cleansing them all the same

[written October 14, 2010]

Droplets

A red droplet plummets down onto the skin of my blackened arm,

It resonates white.

Pure white.

Pure, blindingly, shockingly white.

(What is it about the red that transforms the black into the white?)

I look up and see another droplet drip off the death of His dangling doom.

One by one the droplets plop

And with the bursting of each seed of blood upon my skin

I am developed into white, pure white, blinding white, shocking white,

Like the negative of a photograph is developed into its intended image after its exposition to light.

Although in this instance my skin is exposed to red

A red that has been so brutally tormented, so falsely accused, so ignorantly rejected, so violently punished, so obscenely forsaken.

(What is it about the red that transforms the black into the white?)

The power of His blood, His sweat, His tears,

All fused together into one bead of liberty

Of which thousands and thousands fall from the two wooden planks

Trickling from his beaten, bloodied, bruised and battered body

Onto my soiled, sullied, smeared, stained and sinful skin.

I am the color of darkness

I am the absence of light

I am unworthy and unclean,

the lowest of lowlies

that my skin deserves not even the touch of His contaminated blood.

Yet I can do naught but stand in the way of the droplets.

For no matter where I traverse,

The red will always drip,

The black will always skirmish,

And the white will always prevail.

[written November 29, 2010]

untitled

One who sees need in his own family

But does nothing about it,

What does that make him?

A criminal bystander,

An apathetic witness of disaster,

And the blood is the guilty proof.

[written November 13, 2010]

Psalm 18:6

"In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears." Psalm 18:6 (NIV)

A simple small cry
muttered from the corners of my lips
like a balloon unconsciously felted
from the clasp of a child's hands
floating up to the heavens:
God save me.
God hears the cry
and catches the balloon
while my brain has already
returned to its high-wired pace of thinking.
The cry is gone.
I think of it no more. A split second my brain has dwelled on it.
Meanwhile
God dwells on it. He latches onto it,
proud of His child. He is needed.
He is desired.
The balloon pops with the touch of His finger,
and the fragments of despair are
transformed
into the remnants of
hope,
remnants which scatter back to me on earth.
Hope showers me.
Hope clings to me.
Hope saves me.

[written August 2009]