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I lift my eyes
from all that is broken
from the ashes of idols
from lies that are spoken
I lift my eyes
from this earthen vessel
from unanswered questions
from the unfulfilling morsels
I lift my eyes
the window of my soul
to the heaven’s Creator
to The One who has control
I lift my eyes
where my Faith will be made sight
at His appearing I will see
The Defender and Lover of my soul
has His eyes on me
He said, “I get my meanness from the gutter and I get my kindness from God.” I sat down under the bridge with him and I said, “I think I could say the same.” He looked at me square in the eyes and I could see he was surprised by my response. He said, “You don’t look like you know much about the gutter.”
I smiled and said “looks can be deceiving don’t ya know?” Then he laughed. The sound of his laughter was one that made me smile. His laughter was like a nine month old baby’s belly laugh. The kind of laughter where nothing is held back and a sweetness of joy rings from it. I told him I had not laughed like that in ages and he said, “Oh you can only laugh like that when Fury and Thunder have cracked your soul and all the dark places have been opened up and cleaned out and all the pieces are strewn about and you cannot put them back together by yourself. I call it reconcilable purity. This laughter only occurs when you have lost your life to save it and when you were first but now you are last…”
I sat there in sober silence but something inside of me begin to tremble. “Who are you?” I whispered. He said, “I am just an old man who has been given a new heart and all day long I just like to go around and give my heart and life away to whoever might need it for a minute or two so that they can go about their day with some pure laughter…” The gorged veined, brown spotted hands palmed my face and the old man looked me in the eye and he said, “Go and be, not do. Go laugh and cry. Go and give your life away for someone else and you will see. You will laugh the laugh of “reconcilable purity.”
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I am a writer. Writers love to read other writers. I can only speak for myself but I like to read to see if I can find that author who has written something I have never read before. I have always been an adroit reader and have read profound words but honestly they have been said before. I have read deeply meaningful stories but they have been told before because we know, according to The Preacher, that there is “nothing new under the sun.”
But what if, what if someone’s words drive a stake into the ground right where you are standing? Or what if someone’s story breaks the chains of your heart and your own story comes to life?
That is the treasure hunt for me. The words, the expressions, the Truth, and the lies…like looking for sea shells for hours and hours and days and days seeing each one as beautifully written. The broken shells, the beautifully colored ones, the plain ones, the big ones, the little ones…all treasures.
In the end of it all I still come back to the most profound words I have ever read and these words DO drive a stake into the earth where I am standing and they DO keep me grounded and rooted in the life I have been given. This author is the only One who has broken the chains of my heart and allowed my own story to come to life…
Just a handful of words you say…yea and what a handful of words they are!
“I am the light of the world. I am the bread of life. I am the Resurrection and the Life. I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I am the door of the sheep. I am the Good Shepherd. I am the True Vine. If you have seen Me then you have seen the Father. I am the Alpha and Omega. I am the Lamb that was slain. I go to prepare a place for you so that where I am you may be there also…”
Eternity golden and radiantly warm
though Winter’s blast draws near me
Sunlight beams shoot through my vision
I see the way so clearly
It is always summer in your presence
invincible summer that never can die
A pact between the Ancient of Days
for He is not a man that he should lie.
To abide forever in summer’s glory
to be wholly and fully alive
not through a looking-glass darkly
but clear and present my Faith will be sight
Photo by Alem Sánchez
As I prepare my heart during Lent season heading toward the Holy day of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ I keep coming back to the thought of The One in whom I put my trust.
All of us “trust” something or someone, as as a result, we worship the very thing we are trusting.
Dr. Hud McWilliams says, “for a relationship to be authentic, one must realize that a choice has to be unencumbered by manipulation.” (no fear, no rules, and no behavior that merits you favor). “
Looking back on my youth I have come to realize many of my relationships had an element of manipulation or my own agenda in them but now I see that Jesus never manipulated people to engage with or follow him.
Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:2
God gives us the ability to openly choose Him through Jesus Christ. No manipulation, no winning a lotto, no position of prosperity or health. So, I remain humbly astounded that my relationship with God can be truly free and without manipulation…
Photo by Matheus Bertelli
Once I was the girl on the side street flashing in and out of the dark. I was taught a role to play for the well being of my family and for my Dad’s livelihood. I played it well. Such a mix of tender family moments peppered with the fear that maybe Jesus didn’t really come for me…
…now the ocean’s wind catches each regret, each sin, and sorrow throwing it into the eternity of a perfect God to be forever forgotten. In the light of the moon a young woman, who thought the stars would stop shining above her found the Maker of the stars and the freedom and love and the lullaby when He sang a Holy song baptizing over her in waves. So now I am drifting, sailing and it was you who came for me.
On that day when the sun tipped over the edge of the earth and spilled colors like buckets of orange, pink, and violet as a reminder of the power of Holy light. The young woman once ravaged and scarred by guilt and shame found joy in the warmth of The Son. Lifted from the darkness you came for me. You hold me in your arms and by your own wounds, scars, and stripes you heal me. The girl on the side street finally came home…
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All her colors run together on the floor…
she has been here so many times before
She is sure this time they will stone her
Condemnation beats in her heart and her soul is torn…
His gentle words were more than she had hoped for…
He bent down in the dirt and wrote a word
He spoke gently lifting her face to see Heaven
“No one here can condemn you anymore…”
All the colors of New life swirled around her at once
Blood red drops in the dirt became white as snow
the blue of the sky filled with angels singing “gloria! ”
He said, ” your sins are forgiven now you are whole… “
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I have a Story given me by my Maker
A heart fierce yet ravaged ever in need of saving
I’ve been given clear eyes to see the Holy One
To shed tears of remorse washing away bitterness
And I’ve been given healing in these two hands
To share the balm I have received and know that Hope remains
I have not seen all the wonders of this world
I have not walked with the noble nor do I own anything of worth
I have not known wealth or fame but I do know joy and pain
And I’ve been given life and love far beyond all earthly gain
I pray for humility and a heart full of gratitude running over
To share the balm I have received and know that Hope remains
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At times my heart is like a quivering bird in this cage of Flesh and bone
I know it will not withstand such a relentless seige
At times my heart is like a big bass drum
I know it will strike strong with the rhythm and the beat!
It feels as if I am dying and I cannot stay the course
Then it feels as if I am a warrior crying out “all is victorious!”
Some say this is a fickle heart but I know this is not true
For I know this heart in me comes from the heart in you!
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He heals the wounds of a ravaged heart
oh fathom lavish love!
Drink his grace straight up
fill oh fill my cup!
No one else will care like this
oh death where is thy sting?
Drink his grace straight up
fill oh fill my cup!
Cannot add to him or take him away
oh pure the bread and wine!
Drink his grace straight up
fill oh fill my cup!
Jill Autrey Dorman 