gilded cages

Freedom is not

a life without pain

a room without walls

limitless gain

Bondage is not

the chains that us bind

the past that we haunt

things left behind

For love above all

unites and divides

it tears down the lies

behind which we hide

Love makes us soar

or freeze in the night

forever our choice

to do what is right

commitment

some thoughts have been germinating in my head and a stray comment yesterday revealed some fruit. when i was younger i observed some marriages that, while they were committed to each other to “death do us part”, there was not much love lost. i resolved that would never be me, i would never marry until my passionate soul found its match. lately, however, i have realized how necessary commitment is to a relationship, especially a marriage. this is not just commitment to the other person, but commitment to God first and to shared ideals, vision, etc. in some marriages now i see this unswerving devotion played out as a foundation that supports them through rough and rich times. 

when two resolve, for better or for worse, to a relationship it means not only while emotions last, or if they last. it means that they are decided to encourage, confront, commiserate, and so on. this foundation gives them both the confidence to say hard things, knowing that it will all be taken from the mutual vantage point of love.

what happens when such fidelity is found in a relationship is inexpressibly beautiful. but pain can come easily, especially when in any situation you discover that what you meant by “commitment” was not what they meant, and you find the storm has come and they are now on another shore. the realization that they did not value the relationship enough to fight for it can destroy you. 

yet come back to the foundation: to whom am i committed? to the One who committed to me before the foundations of the world, while i denied His name, when i refused His love. not only when i did not hold up my end of the bargain, but when i spit on and refused His love. if He, who gave so much for me--that i can never, ever conceivably repay--asks simply that i bear the pain and love on, can i refuse? 

for this i look, and ask the void: can we live in commitment? is it possible this side of glory? and not just in matrimonial relationships, but family and friends as well? and for myself, can i move past the failures and not fear giving my heart to people?

on rough times

this week i thought a lot about how it feels when you reach the end of yourself. other times i've found frustration there, or emotional fatigue. but this time as i found myself with empty hands and heart, the questions burying me, i realized something new. i realized there is peace there as well. a peace when you are walking on air, nothing sustaining you but His hand. a peace that is as wonderful as it feels illogical. between the tears i know He sees the reasons i can't. disconcerting unfounded giddiness, akin to when i pass the tired point and i feel euphoric and artificially awake. and so i wait, realizing that this patience He continually tries to teach me comes only through letting go and "gracefully fall back to the arms of grace".

El dia de amor

This is an old poem I wrote years ago. In celebration of V-day I'm uploading it (yep, here you go, Anna!).

another monday

i think that sometimes it is possible to have too much to weigh in life. when all the issues crowd around us and our own analytic nature paralyzes us. especially true when emotions are involved, and people, and (the horror) gossip. how to stop, center, and hear the One still, small voice that matters...therein, as they say, lies the rub...

shambles

the stop sign bleeds
droplets of cool rain
scattered by capricious wind
my thoughts run along
from side to side
looking for an answer
i know can’t be
give up and run
stay and love
at this intersection
i’ve passed the point
i know too much
all i want is to do
the one thing
the transcendent thing
but i question
every twinge
every motive
the one variable
clueless and uncaring
but haunting me nonetheless
down the sign
a teardrop trickles
the relentless rain
decisions crowding
when all i want
is something else

He makes me lie down

As usual, the trail of my thoughts, though interconnected may take a circuitous route.

The title references the well-known Psalm 23, and works around the thought that God makes me lie down by still waters--He makes me have peace. It's a picture of the lovely stillness we associate with peace yet also a strong force on the part of God, almost as if His hand were pushing us down--"lie down at peace, even though you're freaking out, struggling, despairing--I AM is in control so lie down". Not an original thought to me, someone once preached a similar message and it has stuck with me, especially since I am one who often says, "but, God...". Which is something I've realized recently, i.e., I know I'm stubborn and strong-willed but I thought that was just when it came to people. I rationalized any stubbornness against God by saying, "maybe I didn't hear Him correctly...He surely wouldn't ask that." Yet this year I've faced the bald fact that I wrestle with Him and He is making me lie down.

Which brings us to another thought: joy. It's the theme at church and so often on my mind. What does it truly mean for me to have joy--especially joy through the suffering? Since my name means "source of joy", this, to me, is a crucial lesson...perhaps one I will spend my life learning. Today as pastor spoke, He talked a lot about joy being tied up in hope...and hope does not disappoint, as long as it is in Him.

That very hope is also churning within, percolating with aromas of dead ends and forgotten dreams. In my life, I still do not know what to hope for. So I am reminded that for is not so as important as Who. And these words and the story that surrounds them, from the book Peace Like a River, convicted me today: "Fair is whatever God wants to do." The background is simple: the narrator had come to the place of hopeless resignation and simply given up; surrendering control to God, yes, but without any expectations that He would want to give him joy and do miracles.

Living in surrender is a goal for my life, but a surrender that looks like me riding on the wings of the Almighty, knowing that what He wants to do will be amazing and miraculous and smack of impossibilities and dreams come true. I'm not there yet, as much as I long to be, and it's all tied up with love and others and who He has made me to be.

Romans 5:3-5 (Amplified Bible)

Moreover [let us also be full of joy now!] let us exult and triumph in our troubles and rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that pressure and affliction and hardship produce patient and unswerving endurance.
And endurance (fortitude) develops maturity of character (approved faith and tried integrity). And character [of this sort] produces [the habit of] joyful and confident hope of eternal salvation.
Such hope never disappoints or deludes or shames us, for God's love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit Who has been given to us.

cold sunlight

the grey concrete glints in the late afternoon sun
resisting her burning attempts to excite warmth
in his cold, cement heart accustomed to rain
immobile, he stares fixedly onward
as she dances with all her winter might
impervious to her charms he waits
his heart belongs to another
sadly she dips at last below the horizon
he, relaxing his strength, welcoming
as frost steals softly into his lap
coating his gruff exterior with a sheen
until the morning comes and sun sees
the truth sparkling on his constant face

good quote and photobooth