walking wounded

her voice grew soft and stumbling
her eyes sought the floor in shame
i struggled to hear how the story went
slowly, gently the flesh parted and i saw
her heart
marks of many shapes and sizes
bearing names and dates and faces
wounds carved into her very being
by those meant to love and trust
her heart
so sadly i gazed at the battlefield
the chaos of fumbled meetings
wondering how she faced each day
with so much pain inside
her heart
then i looked closer still and saw
each lie a wielded blade
i spoke truth into the darkness
saw His healing start to grow
my heart
i find inside are scars unnumbered
results of careless words
the whisper of the enemy contained
in words of friends and family
my heart
i can be a vessel of healing
His instrument to stitch closed
the wounds that years have told
to bring life where death now reigns
our hearts
we join in living praise to Him
we can be the light of love
we bring hope where none now dwells
we touch eternity in His name

chronographic harmonies

when all my days are numbered
the sand has slipped on through
i'll see my life was just
a simple song to You

for all i have You gave
each shining golden hour
You clothe me in your love
with beauty like a flower

through ups and downs i tread
my hope to live each day
a melody of praises
for how You led the way

come sorrow or come laughter
i'll patiently await
Your arms to draw me close
Your grace is never late

so teach me now to sing
and be ever present
Your goodness to proclaim
until my time's all spent

Icarus

"Don't fly so high," they warn you
but the sky is so alluring
and the breezes tease your wings
as the treetops you go touring.
"Beware the burning sun,"
their voices caution you
and like a fool you soar
straight up into the blue.
The wax begins to drip
but you take it all in stride
and climb a little higher,
ignore the cries outside.
The sun begins to burn
as feathers one by one
float freely in your wake
before your strength is done.
Suddenly you're falling
down like a simple clod
distrusting now your way
and crying out to God.
Before you hit the ground
before their stricken gaze
the world begins to turn
and move in different ways.
Although the end is near
and they did tell you so
you find it matters less
in light of what you know.
For after all the flight
is but a moment's breath
uplifted by His wings
a prelude to sure death.
If you have never flown
nor felt His strength so true
then you will never know
He won't abandon you.
Mistakes are ever made
old as the setting sun
forgiveness ever new
sure as the day is done.
When all your dreams are gone
or when the days are bright
remember still His hand
will guide through every night.

lead me not

i read a line
"did i get it right this time?"
i thought of how i ask
always searching, wondering
when the answer is right here
"did you see Jesus in me?'
my words, my ways, my life
i won't always get it right
but if i seek to bend my knee
He will rise above
in all i do and all i say
will show forth His love
i'm tempted to set rules
place law around my path
as if it's rigidity could stop
my feet from wandering
when instead of artifice
i bow low and listen
moment by moment i hear
Him whisper in my ear
out of surrender comes
grace overflowing
to me and through me
and i get Him

maple leaves and white bark

around the block i go
from burning concrete step
to shady leaf-kissed step
even in uncertainty
the blessings come
the way the green green leaves
dance in breezy blue skies
the white bark drives hard
down into the brown earth
amidst lush green grass
i gaze in wonder in the desert
amazed at His creation
the harsh sun will strike my face
but not forever
cooler steps are coming
just around the bend
whether in oases of joy
or valleys of despair
i give thanks, oh, i give thanks!
around the block i go
marveling at His mercies
today He gave me life
tomorrow is in His hand

seaside

here i've lived
beside the sea
it's soothing song
so pleasing me
i rise and sleep
through all my days
enraptured by
the sound of waves
but now i find
a deeper way
You call me out
so far to stay
upon the seas
with waters deep
and fears inside
i cannot keep
i've loved the sea
from this safe shore
but now i find
it's safe no more
and so i step
Your love my ship
and come what may
i'll never slip
yes storms i'll find
and things untamed
but through it all
You are the same

hump day

it's wednesday again
that middle day they talk about
i forgot how it can feel
when tuesday's still beginning
and thursday's almost done
wednesday just is
the joys of weekends past
the hopes of coming fun
lie buried with the dawning
of a day to just get over
but as i lift my head
shake off the troubled sleep
i remind myself again
that wednesdays do not last
my choice to overcome
to lean in hard to arms
that never will let go
each wednesday and forever

bring your own garden

Perhaps it was due to the fact that the first couple of times I visited this city I was a passenger but regardless it has taken me a while to find my way. Since church is a main destination and Kermie isn't a speedy car I quickly found that the road that parallels the railroad tracks (Weber--pronounced as if it were webber) was both enjoyable, simple and fairly direct. Over a month ago I noticed an RV parked just down a side street beside an open field. The car alongside rather than the RV caught my eye as it was something like an El Camino with two large palms in the back. I would have later forgotten about it but the next time I drove I saw the pair--RV and car--again, but in a different spot. Time after time I see the mobile dwelling with its portable garden, changing locations but always near the whistling trains. Bring your own garden, even as you may not have a permanent address in the desert you can still have some green when you look out your window. Green hope, that someday you will find home. We are all in some measure at some level looking for a resting place, trying to find our way. I know my way better now and I wonder at the roving RV garden man--does he long for a people who smile when he opens the door? For arms that wrap around him and tell him no matter what, I won't let go? Somehow the El Camino garden puts this wandering soul in a different category than the usual vagabonds I see--as if he stands apart because he chooses to cling to decorative items and not settle for just getting by. Stop for a moment and smell the roses; gaze at a butterfly. Open your heart to beauty and hope.

today

in the midst of making
cafe con leche, scrambled eggs
the view arrests my eyes
out the curved kitchen window
the awakening eastern sky
greets the day and his Maker
a bird sings praises in the distance
he knows Who brings each worm
I love this sight so new and fresh
my eyes can only look up
this day, this special day
all the wonders He has wrought
so I sip my coffee and give thanks
He knows each step I take
and I will keep my eyes on Him
my eyes above the waves

garage sale

the cardboard box flops open revealing
one life's treasures now put up for sale
frames and frames of memories
faces tied to stories
perhaps to moments best forgotten
or maybe defining changes
the life now lying buried
sees not the strangers' staring
careless hands toss photos
that were once carefully selected
a long-lost love, an estranged child
dearest friends and family
one after another they depart
coins given for priceless thoughts
squares of wood and metal
now repurposed for another
until someday they find their way
into another box and it closes
the cardboard flaps now sealing
another life within

pause a moment and remember
the words that linger still:
"as you are now so once was I
as I am now soon you will be
remember these words as you follow me"