A Reflection and a poem I wrote about wonder, childlikeness, and the deepest thing we can ever experience- the love of Jesus.

Wonder

wonder, it’s something I don’t do much these days

I think and I ponder, but rarely just sit there amazed

By beauty, by hope, by joy, love, and the like

Realities I experience, both the human and the divine

Instead I employ 

other Attributes of mine

Reason, and understanding, 

Logic, and other sciences

To help me rationalize 

the feelings that comprise

Such wonderful experiences

The problem is

The cost of this process 

Is often that the moment itself is lost

Familiarity fills space where new discovery could shine

A childlike awe is stifled 

locked inside of a fearful mind

Imagination held within the limits of my intellect

Emotion stolen by the attempt to rationalize it

ecstasy removed by the attempt to understand it

amazement elluded, confined within the boundary lines of logic

The wonder is lost, in attempt to control it within mere thoughts

But what of if I let go, exposed to the encounter?

What if I let my guard down, vulnerable to the veneration?

What if 

What if I didn’t have to figure out why before I felt the fullness of His wholeness?

I don’t quite yet know,

I’ve only sensed glimpses

But I want to know again,

Yes, I want to wonder again

A Poem that developed out of a time of prayer in which wrestle the tension between my own humanity's frustrating limitation and frailty, yet it's God-given beauty and dignity. I pray that this resonates and helps you find Jesus in the tension:

Poem- “Bloody Flesh and Bones”

You say don’t be afraid, 

you’re fearfully and wonderfully made

You say this because you know

That what I’m most afraid of is my humanity,

This bloody flesh and bones

You say that everything I need to be the man you’ve made me to be, Is already in me. 

Even that your Kingdom is within me.

But sometimes I can’t seem to find it.. or… him.

Between temptations, thoughts, and fears

confusion, lies, and the like

It feels like the man I’m supposed to be

lies far beyond my reach. 

Not because I don’t want to be him, 

I really do, and sometimes I see him, 

I feel like he’s there but before long as I stare into who I could be I sense deeply who I’m not, this bloody flesh and bones seems to blur my vision. 

In all honesty, at times I feel unable, 

like that version of me is just a fable.

Something seems array, 

why is it so hard sometimes!? 

I guess I blame it all on this bloody flesh and bones.

Jesus: 

Or maybe, this flesh and bones isn’t just bloody, but blessed. 

Not as much perverse and unpleasant

As profound and purposeful, a present. 

I understand your struggle, and your tension, I get it it, I get you.

But don’t forget I put on flesh and bones and let it be bloodied so yours could be blessed.

I was human too, being Messiah meant meeting hard head on, 

temptations, thoughts, and fears

confusion lies and the like,

I faced them all and came out the other side

I even conquered death with resurrection life.

And now the blessed flesh and bones with which I formed you, 

is where I make my home in you. 

So when you feel like your humanity is hindering you from being who I made you to be, 

remember that though this flesh and bones may bleed, 

it’s not as much bloody, as it is blessed.

And I gladly choose dwell in this blessed flesh and bones.

A poem/spoken word I wrote about wrestling with God through doubt, skepticism, and confusion.

A poem I wrote that outlines a conversation I had with the Lord, wrestling with the idea of His timing and my disagreement or maybe just frustration with it:

Too Slow

You know what God;

sometimes I feel like you’re just too slow.

the seeds that I sow are taking too long to grow

I’m trying my best to do what I know

trusting that in time the the fruit will start to show

You say you bring the harvest

in due season I’ll reap

but I gotta be honest

this feels like a leap

I’m just saying

I’ve been waiting

through the rain, shine, and snow,

And I’m staring to feel like you’re just too slow…

Oh no son, I hear you,

but you’ve got it all wrong;

I’m not too slow, I’m just more patient than you.

I’m not taking too long, I’m just more gracious than you.

see My love is patient, so that means I’m more loving than you.

the people you pray for,

the seeds that you’ve sown,

the transformation you wait for

In others and yourself,

the changes you hasten for

come steadily for your health

the promises you ache for

that you long to be fulfilled,

I haven’t forgotten one,

I’ve kept a note to self.

but they’ll happen in My timing

And you don’t want them anytime else

Because eating fruit before it’s ripe

isn’t good for your health.

so trust in My timing son,

Trust the slow work

and when you get impatient,

remember My smirk

The blessing that comes

when the waiting is done

Is worth every moment

You sat frustrated in My love

Oh no son, I hear you,

but you’ve got it all wrong;

I’m not too slow,

I’m just more loving than you.

A reflective poem a I wrote about the tension of being someone people look up to as a leader, while knowing deep down how human you really are. Yet, coming to the realization that maybe what they are drawn to, is Christ in you, which is something worth celebrating.

Human Heroics:

It’s strangely satisfying, yet utterly terrifying

To be someone’s hero

Somehow your life and love speak so loud that people want to be around you,

or even scarier; be like you.

It’s what many of us long for isn’t it?

To have influence, to be leaders, to be followed,

To be appreciated, seen, known, admired, looked up to

But once people do just that

Suddenly I feel I’m not up to the task

All my flaws in full view

My humanity and foolish tendencies looming in the shadow of my self image

Afraid admirers might place on me too much dependency

so I deflect

I don’t want people to look up to me but to to God

I want to reject this admiration, it just feels odd

Why me?

Don’t you see

I might fail you

I might let you down

You can come close, but don’t get too close

I’ll hold you for a moment, but only just a moment

If you stay here too long you just might notice

the things in me that diminish my heroics

and be hurt or worse, disappointed, by my unheroic humanity.

I’ve heard some say “never meet your heroes” because they’re not all they’re chalked up to be,

and I’ve seen that proven true

So now I’m afraid of becoming one.

Wary of how much you look up to me.

I think “If you only knew.”

I want to embrace this admiration,

this affection,

this surprising obsession

But I don’t want you to cling to me,

This unworthy vessel that you see.

But maybe,

Maybe I underestimate what it is they really see,

Maybe the hero they are drawn to is really Christ in me

God working through me

Yes in my own unique expression

But maybe the profound impression they have is actually Jesus.

And while right now, they may be drawn to me

One day they’ll come to know that I’m just like them,

and they’ll realize what they were drawn to in me, and that is Him.

And whether that’s today or on some future date;

we can humbly look up to Jesus together,

we can worship Him,

and admire Him,

side by side,

same level,

eyes fixed,

on our one true Hero.

A poem about battling and overcoming the fears of allowing yourself to experience the fullness of joy, peace, hope, beauty, goodness, and truth as they present themselves to you.

Surface Tension:

Joy beyond comprehension

Yet I try to comprehend it

Peace surpassing understanding

Yet I attempt to understand it

Hope exceeding explanation

Yet I hope to explain it

Because I question;

If I can’t explain it, is it even real?

If I can’t understand it can I trust what I feel?

If I don’t comprehend it, is it safe for my retention?

They come like waves engulfing me in beauty

They wash over me till I’m truly submerged in goodness

But soon I emerge from this seemingly dreamlike state and begin to contemplate this conflict within,

spiritual realities juxtaposed with internal fallacy’s

Fear conflates with lies and disappointment, and pretty soon

The questions grab me by the collar,

anytime I wander out to the water I know I must be baptized in

They drag me back to shore

Seducing me to think they’re saving me but in reality they’re choking me.

The vast ocean of His Grace is my destiny

Yet I hesitate swim freely in it

I spring up out of the water

Gasping as if I was drowning in it.

Though I was hardly wading in it

Yet what I discover, if I wade longer in this water,

Is that I am safe,

Contrary to what I perceive

I can breathe,

The depths of joy

The breadth of peace

The heights of hope

All belong to Me.

And I belong to Him.

If only I stop fighting Him

and simply receive,

If I stop second guessing,

and truly trust and believe

They are not myths or illusions

Too good to be true

They come from the Creator

of beauty, goodness, and truth.

And among those creatures is me,

And the life He has in store

If I dive beneath the surface,

If I swim beyond the shore.