Monday, April 21, 2014

our invitation to rest

Father, we come . . .

with emotions based on our circumstances;
because that's how we are, circumstantial in nature.

we base our happiness on whether we're well fed,
or on the shape of our body from all we've put into it . . .

what happens to us in terms of attention or affirmation,
or if we've gotten to our rightful place in the line . . .

our happy hinges upon what they've said to us or how they've treated us,
or by how much affection they give us on any particular day . . .

if the coupons have expired,
or if our bread is hard to chew on a given day . . .

whether our hugs feel bulges,
or if we feel like we're coming apart at the seams . . .

our happiness hangs on these things,
and yet it seems so silly when we speak of them this way.

we tell our kiddos about You with excited bravado,
and their questions make us stutter and feel so ill-equipped for the task.

You don't make full and complete sense to us;
we can't rationalize or fully articulate the importance of what You have done.

we strive for perfect in ways we don't even see;
it makes sense to that perfection comes in many different colors.

if only we saw all your human-beings this way:
simply perfect in all our many different colors.

we long for full and complete joy that lacks absolutely nothing.
and here we are, making it out to be all happy-clappy.

You redeem all things in time,
yet we still try to make things happen in our preferred time.

we forget about Your invitation for us to rest,
distracted by our moment-by-moment experience and the flavor of the day.

there are a hundred million things we could apologize for about our ways;
yet, we don't have to own every bit of our wretchedness.

we can sit on our porch and embrace our cup, knowing:
we are loved, as we are.

might our feelings not dictate our deeds today, Father,
and tomorrow may we still be the same in the loosing of how we feel.

may we rest in knowing that though our conditions are certainly not ideal,
there's something remarkably perfect and Holy about where we are now.

You are guiding us and gilding us through so many different processes;
we're not just parcel-gilted, You plate us with gold in full.

our ashes will be resurrected as things of beauty;
help us rest in the perfect and purposed ways in which we will rise.

remind us that there's hope, even in the heat of the crucible,
even in the rubble that whispers of things lost.

relieve us of our ever constant clawing for comfort, Father;
silence what the lines on our faces and our shadows want to tell us.

redirect our thoughts and re-pattern our ways;
slow us and remind us of our invitation to simply rest.


Sunday, April 20, 2014

hope resurrected

Father, we come . . .

with our doubt.
with our wanting to believe in full.

with our pride.
with our wanting to cease our foolish striving.

with our judgments.
with our wanting to be more accepting.

with our restlessness.
with our wanting to experience real life miracles.

with our questions.
with our wanting to know all things are purposed.

with our compulsions.
with our wanting to learn from past mistakes.

with our accusations.
with our wanting to quiet the noise that condemns.

with our brokenness.
with our wanting to know messy is actually Holy.

with our exhaustion.
with our wanting to be freed from all that binds.

with our willingness.
with our wanting to abide in peace, as we are.

with our hope.
with our wanting to rest in its smallness.


Saturday, April 19, 2014

the breaking of us

Father, we come . . .

with repentant hearts.

we've not been submissive.

to authority . . .
to assignments.

we've not been accountable.

to tasks . . .
to teaching.

we've made excuses.

to responsibility . . .
to reliability.

we've assumed the victim.

to avoid . . .
to accuse.

we've been wayward.

to rebel . . .
to resist.

we've been restless.

to surrender . . .
to submit.

we've seen our need for You.

to rebuke . . . 
to restore.

we've decided to obey.

to serve . . .
to sacrifice.

we've chosen death.

to whines . . .
to wants.

we've come. 

to work . . . 
to worship.

we've said "yes".

to breaking . . .
to building.


Friday, April 18, 2014

the bending of us

Father, we come . . .

all lookatmeish.

we're afraid to look at them or You.
we're afraid to look at anyone.

what will they think? 
what will You think? 

we're self-centered in so many ways.

You asked us to feed and to clothe them.
You asked us to love.

but, they hurt me. 
but, they have . . . 

we're selfish and irresponsible.
we're wasteful with time.

we've made so much about us.

You asked us to see them as ourselves.
You asked us to forgive.

what if they do it again?
what if they misunderstand? 

we're such arrogant victims.
we're such accusers.

we've held back our hearts in rationalized self-defense.

You asked us to serve them.
You asked us to sacrifice.

but, look what they've done!
but, look who they are!

we keep them bound like prisoners.
we keep them in shackles.

we think they deserve to be punished.

You remind us they're human and know not what they do.
You remind us that we're human, too.

okay, we'll extend an invitation to them. 
okay, we'll engage with them.

we're all the same: in need of love.
we're all the same: in need of grace.

we're willing to open our eyes and see.

You shift our perspective.
You shift us to penance.

thank You for this sight. 
thank You for this right.

we can see their need.
we can see ours, too.

we're finally free.

You've given us the fullness of grace.
You've given us the fullness of peace.

we'll feed them. 
we'll serve them. 

we're willing to share You with them.
we're willing to shelter them.

we offer our raw, real selves as a sacrifice.

You'll strengthen us.
You'll sustain us.


linking with friend's at Bonnie's place today.


Thursday, April 17, 2014

the perfecting of us

Father, we come . . .

weary slaves to our desires.
our burden is our lack of patience.

You remind us that we have the power to live free.

we do whatever we think we can to feel better.
our pride makes a fool of us.

You remind us that this life is about persevering.

we are inept to contain even our weariness.
our character is shaped by our disappointments.

You remind us that our hope comes in the breaking of us.

wounded soldiers we press on.
our gratitude is for the process.

You remind us this is the perfecting of us.


linking with Jennifer, Emily, and Holley today.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

may we not be distracted

Father, we come . . .

with hearts once so full of hope,
and now nearly emptied.

You tell us to pursue hope;
to chase after it.

but we feel deflated
from all that has distracted us.

our eyes were so fixed on
what we saw before us.

we thought there was evidence our
hope was going to be fulfilled.

it felt like maybe,
just maybe our hope would be realized.

we allowed ourselves to feel excitement,
though we were afraid that maybe it wasn't time.

the journey has been long
and we've sought to honor You.

we had chosen to accept
Your perfect timing.

and then the signs seemed to say,
now might be the time.

but now isn't the time,
and we still wait.

we need You to keep us patient.

may we not be distracted
by what tickles our senses.

You bring good things
in due time.

widen our capacity to trust.

and continue to grow our faith,
as we wait.

help us to stay so close
to You.


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

convert us

Father, we come . . .

lead us through the fog.
lead us through the fire.

You expand our capacity to trust.

be our destination.
be our determination.

You really do matter most.

refocus our feelings.
refocus our failings.

You are the center of everything.

remind us.
restore us.

You are more than what we want.

dissolve our loneliness.
dissolve our lack.

You conceived us and grow us.

awaken us to Your stretching.
awaken us to Your shaping.

You designed us.

might we know Your purpose.
might we know Your peace.

You redeem every part of us.

might we remember our sacrifice is planned.
might we remember our sanctity is pursued.

You make Holy of us.

churn us.
crucify us.

You make more out of us.

make beauty from our fears.
make beauty from our failings.

You know our struggle for control.

break us.
bend us.

You desire more than what we can even imagine.

might we have perfect surrender.
might we have perfect solace.

You allow us to wait so our faith can expand.

keep us waiting.
keep us wondering.

You make us dependent.

spin us.
sputter us.

You purpose us.

convert our energy.
convert our efforts.

You make something of us.

slow us.
steady us.

You are the power in us.