Joni Mitchell and a cup of tea…
I shut the door so no one can see
and dream of something kept underground
when I had to jump off that merry-go-round.
I loved the ride and all the pretty horses
I loves what I thought I would be.
I would have sold my blood to be published
so all the work could read.
I would wax eloquent and be held in high esteem…
all the other riders would admire me.
They would gaze at me on my grand carousel
marveling at all the wisdom I share.
Well now I speak in present tense…
the merry-go-round broken down and spent.
For my profound literature there is no need
I still like Joni and a cup of tea.
This sacred ache only you can fill
no words can describe the place
when you shattered that hour glass of shame
all the dust cleared I heard you call my name
Nothing on earth fulfills this longing
I have learned this yearning is not to be despised
yet held within so tenderly and bittersweet
you hold every tear I have ever cried
This sacred ache that you have filled
keeps me gazing at the stars each night
I look for your return my Lord and King
each day I long to live inside your light
No one else can propagate this longing
so I freely keep it there and open
when you shattered that hour glass of shame
when all the dust had cleared I heard you call my name…
“Daughter are you crying?
do the tears belong to me?
Daughter I am close as I can be.
and our time has just begun.”
Hours and ions will bend
as words pour on to paper
A long day’s journey
salty is the flavor
White sails billow
the gull cries for favor
I think I’d like to be alone
but pain can turn the tables
A wild joy takes me over
pure substance hovers just inside
A wild joy is my lover
ever changing with the tide
I walk on vigilant for any inkling of the enemy’s presence…deafening silence
yet in a split-second a pervasive white mist envelopes me…
I feel heavy weight and aching in my body and spirit, it is the supreme stealth weapon of the enemy
It is shame, my most relentless foe
The ballast of Shame slaughters aggressively, the deadliest of weapons, worse than sarin gas…
If I don’t kill it, it will kill me and all it touches, shame is unholy from hell
I cry out to the King, blood seeping from my chest, a razor-sharp slice
I did not feel it at the point of entry
Towering above the shame the King appears, brandishing his two-edged sword
it blazes and radiates like a million Suns, in a blink the sharp shooter
on the roof top falls dead
I am blind now, crouching down behind my shield of Faith
the King wields his Holy two-edged sword and shame screeches like the demon it is…
instantly there is silence, my heart is no longer bleeding, I regain my sight
The Holy Spirit is the watchman, the Angels encamp around me
I savor the Holy rest of victory this day…
I dreamed I am in guerrilla warfare, watching sharp shooters on the roof tops
The King was right when he said we do not fight flesh and bone
Yet we insist on killing our own over and over, the choice made, cannot be taken back
There are many traitors among us, or most likely they never were a child of the King
They look just like me so I cannot know who will gun me down, it is not for me to judge
The Truth can pierce the bone from the marrow, I know because it happened to me…
I must don God’s armor at all times, be vigilant in lie detection, oh the enemy is so smooth, it is a false light…
My heart is pounding, I cannot be silent, for every day is a day of war in the spiritual realm, to immense to be ignored
The manifold wisdom of God sees all, the Captain of the host holds all power in his name, Messiah, Jesus, God with us
So I take up my weapons… the belt of Truth, the shield of Faith, the helmet of Salvation …
I continue to walk behind the enemy line for I know the Battle is the Lord’s, I long to remain a diligent warrior
The sharp shooter is still on the roof, the scope on the rifle is aimed at my head, I can see his eyes dead like dolls eyes
I choose to keep walking…
The solitude of mere humanity…without tasting the solitary aloneness of yourself before the God who created you one cannot experience the path to the Cross of Jesus Christ. Our parents faith, our family, our worldly status, our friends cannot enter into this solitude with us. The paradox of the supernatural and eternal Unity of the Cross with the certainty that we each must meet and know God alone is the reality each human must face. This is the story of Job and every other human.
There is no way around it but it need not be a terrifying solitude. We cannot hide from this meeting with the Holy. It is an offensive, not defensive stance. To come home like the Prodigal son, to repent, to rejoice in the Wholeness provided in Jesus. To remove the facade of religious and worldly answers and simply stand unashamed and naked like Adam did when he was molded from the dirt and dust of the earth in the wonderful marvelous light of God’s presence. There is an innocent soberness to this kind of solitude. Just us before God without another single human being.
It is in the solitude of mere humanity where there is intimacy without playing games. We all experience a time of total loneliness in this life yet in that place something within us cries out to us that we are NOT alone. Job experienced this. Jesus certainly experienced this in the most utmost sense of the word. God does not play games with us. We came into this world naked and alone and we will leave this world with the solitary escort of the Holy Spirit of God into the very presence of our Creator, Savior, and King Jesus. That is so astounding and kind and simple.
I believe that God is in love with our human-ness. We are his ultimate design an image bearer of our God. We are the Crown of his creation. Not only does God love us he delights in and trust us with the lives he has given us and in our solitary aloneness with him we can know these truths intimately.
Her navy blue eyes flash at the sound of lies. Lies never make a sound.
She can always tell.
She was once one. Before Truth came into her soul.
The person knows she knows. The Truth touches the Liar’s cheek gently
Looking straight into each others eyes.
She walks away.
a penny for the boy
a peony for the girl…
oh the losing and the winning
the dying and the living…
cry for sorrows
laugh for joy…
smile at the mirror
frown at the noise…
called to sojourn here
in this mess called “life”…
scare it off the pages
watch it sparkle in the light…
That familiar ache of longing
stings my heart again
My flesh and mind are failing
the Spirit within my only defense
Transparent in my need
find me once again
Vulnerable to the hurt of man
the certain pangs begin.
I declare you are my strength
the Lover of my soul
I surely would have fallen
unless my God had taken hold