Lies Separate My Foundation

When a home has been divided-
your heart remains broken
so long, because the allowance for
chance scares you more than
damage from what went wrong.

No apology you make to yourself in a discontented night such as this,
will ever correct a past the One has since righted, waiting to lead you out of winter’s coming.

Mourning Those Alive With Lessons

I’ve been thinking about this video lately.

Or rather a line that he talks about, as it refers to him being a songwriter: we came to mourn you, not to look in the mirror.

I’ve not been able to get that out of my head. For days.

What does it look like to mourn people?

I always get this image of a funeral service. People dressed in black and paying their respects one last time before the person who is deceased is laid to rest.

I’ve been thinking about this in terms other than physical death. Because I think this goes far beyond just that.

Have you ever lost something?

A pencil that was your favorite color?

A favorite book with an inscription inside the front cover?

A favorite pair of shoes?

A jacket?

You feel a little twinge that it’s gone, but most likely you can replace what you’ve lost.

Now have you ever lost a friend? One day, you woke up and realized that while you were traveling through life together, you came upon a fork in the road.

They went one way.

You went the other.

Leaving you with only memories to hold on to and a farewell smile.

I’ve been going through this recently. Except it isn’t just with a friend, but with my Dad.

Lately, I find myself looking at him and thinking: Who are you?

What happens when someone lies to you? Repeatedly. Maybe that’s the starting point for when so many of us become lost.

When the person you thought you knew becomes a stranger. Someone who likes to play hide & seek, hoping you’ll never find them. Someone who replaces an invaluable affirmation, “I love you.” with monetary items, like a quick candy bar or an entire Subway meal.

This is where I feel the second part of that lyric comes in: not to look in the mirror.

The days I have spent in anger of how my Dad is & how change seems years away, I often forget how I am just like him.

I hide. Behind true feelings. Behind silence. Behind wanting people to see me. Instead of Christ. Which is hideous.

I actually don’t like people looking to ME. I’m awkward and on my own, apart from Christ, I won’t point people in the right direction. But, I do go through this internal battle of: PLEASE OH PLEASE LOOK AT ME. to..I have nothing to offer, avert your eyes away.

The times I look at my Dad in the eyes, I am looking at myself in the mirror.

I’m staring at this 23 year old little girl, who looks to someone to build me up.

Most times, other people.

I stubbornly turn away from love that seeks to completely me & run straight to the brokenness wishing to deplete me.

I let emotions overrule me.

Words hurt me.

They stay with me.

And just like my Dad, my past loves to haunt me. Everyday.

I must remember that God forgave me for my sins. Still does when I slip up & ask humbly for His forgiveness.

He still lavishes me in His love. Whether I want it or not. He waits without hurry, waiting to hear from his child that willing chooses to go astray.

Underneath all the pain, shame, hurt, guilt, and pride, is a man God died to save.

Today, I will start taking the teaching of Jesus to heart: to not forgive seven times. But seventy. To love with my presence, than just words.

To let others love me, so that one day, when my Dad is ready (if he ever becomes ready.), I can love him in the exact way Jesus loves me.

With patience. Understanding. Gentleness. Kindness. Mercy.

For anyone else that may be dealing with something similar to this: I pray that we may walk towards the truth that we need not to look at the person as if they are dead, but to the sin and actions that are killing them. We must lift their name to the Father and let Him work on the healing only He can provide.

Let us walk with Him and embrace His gift of the fruit of the Spirit which are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22, 23 ESV)

When Heartbreak Finds Me

Tuesday, I read this devotion called, Broken Things. (That was the title, but you can find it here on YouDevotion.

I find it amazing how in some ways, God is not so mysterious. I mean, I may not be able to see His actual face, or call Him up when everything is going wrong and say, Hey, could You come sit with me awhile, please? And if I’m being totally honest, I have a hard time sitting with Him now. He’s not even physically in front of me.

I think if He were, I’d sob. Just fall into His eternal arms and weep.

Weep because everything around me is dead. Mornings are filled with abrupt spurts of anger and lying lips. Nights are lost on prideful silence.

Weep because I’ve become lethargic and tired.

Weep because I keep tripping and focusing on my circumstance, instead of His gaze that longs to keep me. And whisper, I need You. into His ever listening ears.

Weeping because my trust in Him is difficult over the voices. The one of complaint. Anger. Frustration. Worry. Sadness.

Weeping because I am finally starting to understand how He felt. All He ever did was try and love people. Some people accepted. Most thought He was crazy, going against the rules and loving those from the tax collector to the lame man.

Weeping because when everyone, even the disciples left Him, He went to our Father, and said,Forgive them.

Just like that. I think sometimes that is why I’m in my current situation right now.

Not because I need forgiveness from the people around me. I need it from God.

I need my heart to break so my reliance on Him is stronger. So into the eyes of those who focus on the wrong, I can find God’s truth, and point them to a miraculous light that will never fade out.

Today, I will take my heart and pray these words, found in this poem by Thomas Toke Bunch.

May I become acceptant of Your love for me.

In Driest of Lands One Loses Means

I, Your bride, wish to settle

my head upon strengthened shoulders.

My burdens have labored my breath, yet

I have done nothing more than lay on

desert sand, in wait for pleasant speech.

The water canteen is empty.

I fill inside with sand beneath to know I

am not lonely.

It is clear-spring has died within,

around me.

My eyes must be deceiving this

weakening body.

But, oh sweet songs of the birds have

come to waken thee-

even the leaves are turning down,

making a path to drink from a well of

cleansing!

My bridegroom-I see You, I am coming!

Wait, please-don’t leave me this way.

Weeping over the cross from which

death called You away.

A veil of mourning covering my face,

left with Beloved dreams-

a mirage I will never touch in this

forsaken space.

My Sparrow

Today’s poem comes from my dear friend, Francy Pants. (Yeah, I realize I talk about her a lot..she’s lovely. Seriously. Other than her wicked language and cooking skills, her love and reverence for God never fails to teach me something new about His love for us. Like after reading the poem again today, this verse came into my mind: Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:29-31 ESV)

Tiny sparrow,
Fluttering so wildly, swinging from the cruel
Thong of biting leather which cuts
Terror’s pulsing blood from your fragile
Captive claw!
Still yourself and fold your wings,
Think of the future and more lasting things.
I have coppers enough to take you home with me,
To hold you in my hands and set you free.
The world is mine, and also its crumbs;
My shoulder is the broad nest of all
Forgotten little ones
In sorrow’s marketplace of hard-beat drums.

Let’s believe our extraordinary value in Christ today.

Sweetest Song

I hear a bird sing its song
to the heavens, loud & long.
I find myself wanting to ask-
would you teach me
your joyful act of willingness
to depend on the One
who provides an answer
each time you cry surrender.

Audio:

The poem was meant to end as a question. When I did the audio and listened to it, it came out totally different. Like I was surrendering along with the birds. Interesting how my poems seem to take on new meanings to me when I voice them.