Poetry Deovtion: What God Calls Me When I Sin?

Shackled

--2 Timothy 1: 16b

I turn my face from you, oh Lord

Ashamed at what I bare

In You my heart belongs

My lips and words praise Your name

But my shackles remain many

My soul is free, my ransom paid

Your blood cleansing

And refreshing

 But these shackles

Still remain

When I walk this life

Baring such weight on my limbs

Am I worthy to walk in Your name?

Some will fall, break against the ground

Ringing out in victory

Yet in my weakness-some

Still remain

Will you call me, Yours

Then

Shackled and wandering

Before you

What does God think of our struggles?  Better yet, what does God think of our sin?

My “church” answer would be that God looks on us with compassion and grace. And He does. But, if I was honest with myself that’s not what my heart believes is true all the time. If I were being honest with myself I would have to say that God is ashamed of me when I sin.

I began to think about it like this: If God were my earthly father and I had just rebelled again his rules, would he still call me his child? Would I even be worthy of baring His name at that point?

Truly, no, I am not worthy.  And yet 2 Timothy tells us something completely different. Chapter one verse 16b reads, “… he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains.” Take that in for a moment.

Even as saved, redeemed individuals, sin is inevitable and we will continue to fall short of God through sinful acts until we meet Him at Heaven’s gates. We are shackled, “chained” to sin and it is by grace that we can approach God for forgiveness. But, it goes further than that. God doesn’t just claim us at His feet, He claims us in our chains, too.

 This is wonderful news.

Even in our yuck, our struggles that pull our heart away from God and cause our hearts to rebel from God, He is still calling us HIS child. He does not pull back and turn away from us when we turn away from Him. He is still proudly proclaiming our name, and desiring to fill us with the right things.

“You are MY child, this is MY child”

God doesn’t deny us because we are struggling. He is unashamed of us always. Even in the midst of our doubt, wandering, our sin the Lord fights to refresh us, to strengthen us and to break our chains one by one.

Balloons

White knuckled around balloon strings

thundering, drumming veins

"Release them" 

He beckons

a quivering lip- warm-backed eyes

a setting sun behind

a rising before

 release

first the gray- biting in memory

to a fire pit black

released

sinking 

gripping green grass

life itself

spitting out pride,

hopes and dreams

submission

Nothing in my Hands

Consider the cost, Lord-

rags for robes- dirtied hands

for a clean soul

Hands that curse

and push away-rebel

what can You make of these

to pardon or use for 

Love?

Never Separated

It had been a whole month since my feet had sunk into the prickly grass in my front yard at home. When I headed off to college, I swore I wouldn’t come home until October. But leave it to reality to send coughs, sneezes and dark circles under my eyes to hear home call me home much sooner.
I can say now, after going home, it was the medicine I needed. It felt natural to cruise into the circular in front of my house, and fall to my knees as my beloved Boykin Spaniel, Gracie  came sprinting towards me much like she did most every day of my high school career.

Home felt great.  I fell right back into my routine. I took off my shoes in the same spot and immediately reached for the refrigerator door for a snack. My mom and I chit-chatted, giggled, and eventually decided to head to the mall(our favorite bonding spot).

The rest of the weekend followed suit; cuddles with Gracie on Saturday night, a Krispy Kreme visit and dinner with G’an’mama and a friend.  But, a little under seventy-two hours races by and soon enough I found myself waking up on Sunday morning. I drug myself from my bed and headed to the kitchen for a full on Daddy-made breakfast: eggs, bacon, grits, the whole nine yards.  How could I leave? Home is indeed where my heart is.

Sure enough, my time to pack up and leave came again. I loaded up my things, kissed my family and Gracie goodbye and I was on my way back to the upstate. As I drove on the interstate, tears pouring down my cheeks, I thought to myself, “ Two hours separates me from my home, my family, my comfort and my source of love and support. It separates me from the place I feel like I belong. “

Looking back on this moment, I’m amazed at the realization that it’s not hours that separate two people but merely moments. Literally, one moment I was in the arms of my Momma and Daddy and the next I was out the door- gone. All it takes is one tiny moment to separate, but it’s a moment that makes two hours seem like a world away.

Separation is something I’ve dealt with my entire life and never thought much of. Just think about it. The clothes I had when I was in middle school, the moment I gave them away or out-grew them I was separated from them. My Momma, when she went to the grocery store, shut the door to the garage and we were apart. Going away on camps or vacations, and one simple moment separated me from my house as I got in the car to travel away. When I was a baby, I more than likely cried when my Daddy dropped me off for nursery at church because the moment he put me down, I  knew we were going to be separated.

We spend our whole lives dealing with separation, but become so used to that choose not to feel it. And then you go to college and you feel separated from everything you have ever known because well, you are.

This realization was a bit upsetting to me, driving down the interstate bawling my eyes out wondering where in the world I was going to get some consistency. Not even my family could always be there with me. Heck, no one was even there with me in the car… right?

Wrong. How silly I was to forget who lives inside of my heart and pulses throughout my entirety. My Savior, my Lord, my redeemer, He was there. He brought me home to get attached and be ripped apart again from leaving to bring me closer to Him. Isn’t it funny how God works like that?

Soon enough, the Lord was filling my mind with this entire message that He, and only He, is the constant in my life. No matter what vacation I’m on, what class I’m in, no matter what football game, dinner date, car ride, workout…anywhere He is with me, always. My hardest days. My loneliest days. My happiest day. My sick days. I always have Him living inside of me.

Don’t miss this either: God is not a sedentary in our hearts. He moves, works , pulses through us every moment of everyday. He is loving us, comforting us, longing to hang out with us, longing to talk to us through His word, protecting, healing, actively moving in and through us.

What comfort! What joy! My God will never fail me, nor leave me out to dry(or in my case bawling on an interstate) because my God is faithful and everything good. Because of this truth, we find our source of comfort and belonging. Essentially, He is our “home”. It just so happens that it’s because we give Jesus a home in our hearts and lives that we will always feel “at home” no matter where we may be.


It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
 Deuteronomy 31:8

Open Heart Surgery

I lay me down beneath thee Lord-

My heart an open wound.

Gnarled and debris-ed 

filled- gravel and shards

Barely beating for You

Untouchable of flesh 

yet not from light

It melts

Grain by grain- glass by glass

Washing what was 

In blood-

Redeemed

Wandering

Simply to this cross-
I am clinging for nothing else
sufices, the wind and the
water rise with deep power
and blur what lies ahead
so many faces I see
the sounds are many I hear
Father, they are apart from you.
Ring out
before my ears-  shake my
drum until it bursts, splinter
me with the cross that I may bear
its markings
may it never fall from
my shoulders- I will stumble,
yes. but a servant I am, a quitter You
made me not, until
Glory when I shall
collapse- breathless and prostrate
at Your feet
lead mine to seek Yours
our prints becoming one

New Bench Discoveries

The frog, it bellows loudly
come dusk- the firefly
its glow is here-is there
and crickets they mur
and echo among the concrete
solid and traveled. such stories
it should tell through choruses
of nature nestled
in patches-cracks
and hallows. many years
have heard but an eye has never seen
the sounds they come
from many
intwined and twittled
a symphony of one