Heartbeat and Mine

One day we’ll get it just right,

You and I,

Where your hand clasps mine

Just right.

Meaning that though we’ve got it all now,

That one day the earth will see

And beware the coming fire

That we will make.

Like two waves coming together as one,

The breeze that ripples a tune on a grassy hill,

A tortoise winning the race,

Or a comet slinging past the sun.

What was strong

Will be strongest.

What was lovely

Will be loveliest.

With your hand in mine,

We breathe with the life in us,

The fire running through us,

And a heart beating, beating with a heart.

Mother's

A wonderful beauty that is home,

A wonderful woman we all need,

And that’s just the beginning.

And it doesn’t end till the day I’m done,

Because my mother is certainly with me till then,

If not longer.

"Like mother, like daughter" is a phrase that is sometimes used,

Mostly for good,

To tell the truth that a daughter

Learned a lot from her mother.

And "mother’s boy" is a phrase sometimes used,

Mostly for bad,

To describe a son that refuses to learn his life lessons

And hang on to home for a little too long.

But perhaps the latter phrase needs to be reassessed,

Or maybe a new phrase discovered,

To describe the man who has become better

Because of all his mother has taught him.

That’s one of the things I think about

On Mother’s Day,

How maybe even half of the influences that make me and have made me

Recall back to my mother.

All that love,

All that beauty,

I understand,

I know—

I learn this great lesson

That for sons and daughters alike

We can seek out these great blessings

Of love and beauty

And know they make home.

The Strength of Love

In the strength of love

Do we find the meaning of life.

In the pursuit of right

Do we find that none of us are worthy,

But rather that we are only ever made worthy—

Not by anything we could ever earn,

But by what is earned for us.

In what is given to us

Do we find purpose,

And because it is given to us,

So we learn to give.

Give love,

Receive love,

And you have life.

Rejoice, Rejoice

Rejoice for the day

of the redemption of the saints.

Rejoice for the hour

of salvation for the wounded.

Sing on the way

so that not a single soul faints.

Sing with great power

to tell the enemy he is ended.

We will be glad for what is done

and we will dance like our youth.

For the joy of overcoming sorrows

is born in the light of great truth.

Of Things Not Seen

Faith is really quite simple. You say you are going to do something, and then you keep your word. Any man with integrity knows that this is how one lives honestly and truthfully.

So it is no mystery when faith works. It is the only thing that could happen, given where you started and where you ended. It is what occurs when hopes become words kept and a life lived.

It's something that can never be taken away, only given up.

Somehow, there's a certain freedom in it. You didn't see, but then suddenly it's there, and so you hold on to it.

And the light persists.

Faith and Hope

And the bright stars found us again,
Waiting for the dawn.
And I've stood under these stars before,
With the love of the saints and their song.
I've stood on the foundation
And felt my heart beating
To the rhythm of the universe,
To the rhythm of the waves breaking on the shore,
To the rhythm of a breath
Breathing along with mine.

And I've stood under the rain
Of broken cisterns that can hold no water,
That could never hold any water.
And I've run from myself
And I've run from my King
And I've longed to return again
Because my heart is still beating—
It keeps pumping my blood.

And I've seen the daughters of men
Weeping with holes in their hearts
The size of a double-edged sword
Mistakenly wielded and turned within.
And I've seen pain become bitterness,
Where the broken and torn hearts fester
And never seem to catch enough of the healing water—
Could never hold the water that lives and breathes.

I've been there and seen these
And continue to stand there
Because I know.

And I'm confident
And I expect.
There's a new song coming
And a new dance to go with it.
There's a place where the day dawns
Into a bright blue sky,
Where my pain
And the pain of the ones I love
Burns away in the warmth
And washes away in the sweet dew
On the hills in the land
That we will call home.

And right now we have your love
And we have my love—
And your hands are with mine.
Blood still flows through our veins;
We still have the ground beneath our feet;
Our lungs still breathe in and breathe out.

I will never give in
To the worst of our fears.
I will never back down
From what I know is true.
I will find something beautiful
And nurture it back to life again.

Savior

A small grove of trees,

A white picnic bench,

And the line that runs from birth to eternity

Began to waver.

I think maybe we both saw it,

Me and the one I was with,

But maybe I was the only one

Who wanted to escape

From the undertow that would pull us under.

And I reached out a hand to say,

“I don’t have to be the only one.”

But as the waves crashed around

I felt no fingers wrap around my wrist.

The water rose up to my chin

When I was rescued from the tide,

But I was saved,

So I’m alive!

Can you imagine a sky made of bronze,

To be cloistered in under no exit,

No flight of the bird,

To watch hope fade away?

Can you see the heaviest of raindrops

On a wilted flower that was once beautiful?

Does beauty go away so easily

And does that lovely tree I remember

In the field of grace and compassion

Really fall away under the furnace heat of heaven?

I would save it if I could.

I sought a way to bring the wilted flower inside,

To maybe water it

With a more gentle shower of mercy.

But I had to let it go.

No, I can’t save,

But I’m alive!

So now I wonder about the birds

Who glide up into the air

Away from the approaching storm.

You showed me how to be free again,

To wander onto a new path,

Into a new field,

A meadow of such beauty

That reminded me again of what I am looking for.

You were there

And you are here with the stars

In the clear bright sky

Of amazing grace and a longing generation.

You showed me that maybe red eyes

Are just a sign of the love and hope

I could never complete on my own.

Only you can save,

And I’m alive!

So here we sit and here we stand,

Reading these lines

Again and again.

Here we are,

You and I,

Here together now

And here wondering about forever

And wondering about the past,

Considering if love this time or that time

Is ever the love that I talk about.

But I wonder, with all that happens,

Do you still hold to the notion

That you have nothing to regret?

What could I have to regret?

Every joy is joy

And every misery is learning.

I am here now and the road

Is made for this moment.

I am here with you now,

And so how could I ever take back anything

To keep me from you?

And so you have all those meadows journeyed

When you learned the meaning of love.

But would you take back those moments

When I called you

And you never picked up the phone?

Dear love, could I take it back?

Can I take back what I’ve done to you?

Can I not have the blood

On my hands

On my hair

Mixed with the dirt on the ground

And splashed on my legs?

Shall I give it back

For all of those nights it was just me

With selfish me

And I didn’t have the decency to listen

When you wanted to talk?

This wolf with blood on its teeth

Begins to look an awful lot like me.

Just rest now.

Here in the cool of fresh air

And here in the warmth of welcoming arms,

Just rest now.

No, you can’t give it back.

I won’t let you give it back.

It is free.

Life Was Just Happening

In a darker day,
In the pain and the sickness,
From underneath something scarred and torn
I can still see a light shining.

On nights when cold dreams
Blow through this sleepy town
And windowpanes shutter their last resistance,
I can still hear hope singing love's song.

And she has a voice so beautiful
That everyone stops to listen,
At least for a little while,
To the promise she mentions.

And I can't sleep
(How could I have slept?)
Until I meet her in the moonlight
And she smiles at me one more time.

Hope, where have you gone?
Hope, I can see you burning underneath.
This one is for you,
That maybe one day you’ll come home

And we will all have our hearts burst with light
And laughter that finds our new song for us.

Endless Hope

This one is for the one
who has an endless hope in her heart,
given to her by the one who keeps her soul.

See, all day long she tries to find Him,
but sometimes the world talks too loudly
when He sings to her quietly.
Maybe she can't make out the words,
so maybe she pretends like she can't hear Him.

And sometimes at night when she tries to sleep,
the only voice she hears is her own
and it's never enough,
because even if she tells herself she will be all right,
she still doubts that the morning sun
will ever chase away the darkest night.

But in the morning, she sees that all is still alive
and all is still breathing life!
—until the world's devilish shouts
try to scare away the love that she has kept
secret and kept cherished.

Oh, her heart—
her heart!
It wants to harden,
it doesn't want to break again,
it doesn't want to be broken shards
that shred her up from the inside
and leave her body torn and useless.

See, she wants to smile again
and laugh her joy when she sings to Him.
But all day long the voices tell her she's
wrong. They tell her that her voice isn't heard
by the keeper of her soul,
that she ought to give in,
give up, because she's so tired,
so tired,
so undone, give in, give up,
give to sleep, go to sleep,
go to sleep and dream,
dream nothing real
but something of dream,
because dreams
feel good….

Don't
give in.
And again, don't give up to the voices
that try to lull you to false rest.

See, what she wants is something pure.
What she wants is something strong,
and a quiet garden to walk barefoot in
as He draws near to tell her of a new song,
a song she used to know
but somehow forgot
when the world lied to her.

And her heart remembers
and begins to beat the rhythm
as her lungs take a deep breath,
waiting eagerly for Him to smile at her,
to tell her with His one voice of truth
that now is her moment.

So she sings the new tune,
even as it was an old song,
and she remembers it once again
word for word as it always was.

When she is finished, He offers her His hand
and she laughs and takes it.
She breathes in and breathes out
and her heart beats.

See, the beautiful,
He has found her and she has found Him.
Watch as they dance and sing
of the brightest love.
See how in His arms
she is finally free.

Let's write a blog, shall we?

In the absence of a proper job, and having the self-imposed job of writing a book, I find myself with plenty of time or free thinking. I've had the opportunity to think about life, love, and all that is pre-shrunk and cottony. (Congratulation to you, if you got that reference.) Lately, for whatever reason, my mind has turned to some of the deeper considerations concerning human experience and the relationship with our Creator.

The other day, I read the following quote by C. S. Lewis: "You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body." Take that quote as you will, but it got me to thinking about what it means to be here on this earth and in this time. I find myself asking questions about who I am, what I am, where I come from, and what it means to be alive. With just one life to live, what do I live for? With only one life to give, whom do I serve? Am I living life as if there is something beautiful waiting for me on other side? Am I living life as if the life I have right now is worth living? In all of these things, I am well aware that I am without a complete answer.

The simplest answer I can come up with is to choose, above all, life. A few years ago, I came up with a saying which goes, "What is the point of life? To live." It still bothers me to know that Buddha or some such bloke came up with the idea first, even though I thought it up quite independently, but more importantly than that, I find that I must question whether I live up to my own saying. Yahweh gave us life. He gave me life. And on top of it all, he sacrificed his own son so that even if I deserve death, I can and may still live. Who am I to deny any of that?

And if that is the basis for what I believe in, then what other basics can I confidently tell to the world? Well, I believe that Yahweh created the entire world, all of the stars and galaxies and beyond, and all of life. I believe that his son Yahshua came to this earth and gave his life for mine. And I believe that with the sacrifice and subsequent resurrection of Yahshua, we have been granted a possibly incomprehensible freedom. In this freedom, in the willing service to my Creator, I may find the fullness of life.

But what does this fullness of life entail? That is a question to which I may not have such a confident answer. I have been presented with many ideas in my life, but none of them stick very much other than to allow my Heavenly Father to guide the freedom of my life. But at the same time, I worry that I may get lost in the simplicity of that statement. I am concerned that if I simply say, "Father, take my life and do with it as you will," then--even with as vital as this statement is!--I may quickly find myself staring at a life full of a lot of faith but with little accomplishment for the Kingdom of Heaven, the new home I look forward to inhabiting some day. Indeed, my freedom comes with a responsibility. I can have faith all day long, but faith alone can be worthless. As the scripture says, "You believe that Yahweh is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder!" (Jam. 2:19). Surely I am better than that. In fact, I know I am. So then, what is the proof of my faith?

Some say that faith is proven through obedience. There is undoubtedly merit in this answer. Some say this obedience is proven through keeping the torah of Yahweh, his instructions, and with this I must agree. There is immense value in keeping the ordinances of our Creator, the things he has had written down in the scriptures for us to read throughout the ages. These are the things I believe in. But when these things become the end-all of my faith, then I know my faith and my freedom is failing. The keeping of the written law is never the greatest fulfillment of my faith. And to be told it must be done, it is religion. And as religion, what can we say but what James has also told us? "If anyone thinks himself to be religious, and yet does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this man’s religion is worthless. Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our Elohim and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world" (Jam. 1:26-27). If you tell me what to do, know that you have given me religious practice. If you tell me how to believe, know that I may have listened to you, but that is not between you and I, that is between me and my Father. (And as a side note, I hope that none of my words cause any unnecessary conflict...I just hope I'm being honest.)

So with all of that swirling through my head, I must admit that I feel very little need to defend my faith. In defense of my religion, I may have a word or two of my human insecurity, but that is to be expected. When someone questions why I believe, I pray that I have enough confidence and enough unity of spirit to share with them any or all evidence I have been given, knowing full well that their belief is a question of their relationship with their Creator, which is not directly a part of any relationship I share.

I have my doubts, I am a confused soul at times, and perhaps that is why I desire for faith to be built upon things that are sure, and not things that need to be proven. I just pray that my Father has mercy on me as I contend with this flesh which both aids me and betrays me.

I want my life to be built upon the grace and love of our Master and Savior, our High Priest and King, our brother and friend, Yahshua the Messiah. Perhaps some day I will be able to see love and practice love just as he did. In that day, even as today, I will know that I am an abundantly blessed individual.

And of course, that brings us to the point where I talk about love. It's such an interesting thing, this concept of love. It goes between here and there, and between everything and everyone in some way, and yet what it exactly is, we all have trouble saying. I believe that the strongest physical example of love in this world is between that of a husband and wife. There is no stronger bond that literally represents our relationship with Yahshua and with our Creator. That's a discussion for another time, but it sure gives me the opportunity to think, Well then, why don't I just go ahead and get married? That's a good question, and lots of people I know have opinions on the matter. The conversation might go...

Them: "You really have to wait and let Yahweh bring the right person into your life."
Me: "Yes. Yes, I suppose so; I know you're right."

or,

Them: "How are things going on with you and your girl?"
Me: "Uh...well...that kinda ended a few weeks ago, so...."
Them: "Ah, I'm sorry. Well, you'll find the right one soon enough."
Me: "Yeah."

or my personal favorite,

Them: "I just looked on your facebook page; it still says you're single. What's taking so long?"
Me: "I guess I just haven't gotten around to it yet."
Them: "Ah, well.......no rush."
Me: "No, I suppose not."

And while I write these conversations here for amusement, I nonetheless appreciate them and know they all come from a good place. Clearly, most everyone I know understands, at least on some basic, instinctive level, that the love of marriage is something to be cherished. It is something beautiful. It is something, unless we are called to something greater, that is the epitome of love in our lives. And so I wrestle with this idea of love, both amused and frustrated that we must play the games of romantic love in order to obtain truer love--all the while considering the verse and the man who said, "Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." What great love this man had, that he was willing to die daily so that all men, women and children in the world could have the opportunity to call him friend.

Love. If only I had such faith.

Earlier I mentioned that I am writing a book. This book, full of short, ficitonal stories, is largely based on the phrase, "Broken Cisterns", which is also the title of the book. The story for which the book is named is one that I wrote a couple of years ago. At the time, I was contemplating thoughts of life and love, what it means to be broken and what it means to be healed, and how we are both capable and incapable of dealing with a life that does not always make sense. Indeed, I must have had quite the similar mindset that I do as I am writing this. The concept of 'broken cisterns' comes from Jeremiah 2:13, which says, "For My people have committed two evils: They have forsaken Me, The fountain of living waters, To hew for themselves cisterns, Broken cisterns That can hold no water." It also comes from a song I was listening to at the time by Jon Foreman, called "The Cure for Pain", the opening verse of which says, "I'm not sure why it always flows downhill/ Why broken cisterns never could stay filled/ I've spent ten years singing gravity away/ But the water keeps on falling from the sky." My story about broken cisterns is just another example of the struggle found in both of those quotes.

The story is about a young man who has written a letter to a young woman he loves, and yet finds himself inpatient and insecure when a reply letter is long in coming. All he is looking for is something soothing in this hurt and burning world, and yet with hope fading, he feels that he must turn to other means to fulfill his calling to live a life worthy of service to the King of heaven and earth. So he starts a bible school, which is successful for a time. But as with anything man-made, it is just a broken cistern that can hold no water without the mercy of Yahweh, and indeed, the dilemma is increased, as the mercy of Yahweh is that very water which trickles through the cracks.

And so what do we do? In life, we continually make for ourselves things that we know will not last. We face pain and search for ways to chase it away, cry out to heaven for something--anything!--to heal what we cannot heal ourselves. And so we try, day in and day out, to make for ourselves methods to overcome the pain when the pain continues.

We cannot escape the pain until we understand that it is just our dark, short-sighted resistance to the compassion of our Savior, who joined us in our pain and suffered with us, and continues to suffer with us. If only I had enough faith to not run away when he holds out a helping hand.... If only I had enough faith to take his hand and find freedom from everything I hate.... If only I had enough faith to love as he has shown us how to love....

But I do have enough faith, if only I believe.

Message in a Bottle

Oh, what can I say that hasn't been said?
I know what I want to write here,
That I have been blessed abundantly,
And very specifically, concerning one cheery person.

I want to do it with some wonderful pictures—
A view of the stars on a cloudless night,
The feel of a fresh sheet of snow in the beauty of winter,
And the smell of a sweet flower meadow full of mountain laurels.

But I don't have the words.
I've not been so blessed with that much today, it seems,
At least not as a poet
Would want them to flow like a river smoothly.

So I settle for writing this,
Because I want to have something written
For that certain feeling, and that more than a feeling,
When all is made well, is made well, is well.





Also, because it is Sabbath, I want to say outright, Yah bless you all abundantly!

To Die, at Last

Baptized,
Quite literally,
He smiled.

Up from the water,
He trudged
—no, not trudged,
He was without
Burden.

Free,
Maybe
He had tears in his eyes—
But too hard to tell
With the water
Washing.

Unburdened now,
That's the answer.
Slavery now,
That's the answer too.

And he found—
Because I lost faith,
He loved me.
And he loved.

When freedom in slavery
Tackled him,
Tortured him.
He learned the meaning
Of baptism.

And it's always yours.
And he's always yours.

And he loved.
And he's loved.

Loved.

Breathe in, then breathe out,
Because you are loved.

Hope when the morning dawns,
Because you are loved.

Sleep with peace in your heart,
Because you are loved.

Listen to a song, then sing it,
Because you are loved.

Bloom and flower brightly,
Because you are loved.

Stand in the rain,
Because you are loved.

Wilt in the sun,
Because you are loved.

Feel dust on your face from parched years,
Because you are loved.

Thirst in the drought,
Because you are loved.

Hunger in the famine,
Because you are loved.

See loved ones fall in the road,
Because you are loved.

Bear the burden of your brothers,
Because you are loved.

Bleed from the heart on your sleeve,
Because you are loved.

Cry at the blood on your hands,
Because you are loved.

Scream for mercy,
Because you are loved.

Know your faith wavered,
Because you are loved.

Weep miracles from your eyes,
Because you are loved.

Watch the torture of dear ones,
Because you are loved.

Touch those holes through the wrists,
Because you are loved.

Cling to compassion,
Because you are loved.

Receive the water that washes you clean,
Because you are loved.

Fall into the grave and be born,
Because you are loved.

Plead for the lifeblood that covers you,
Because you are loved.

Hear the quiet wind rushing over you,
Because you are loved.

Light up like fire,
Because you are loved.

Understand the price that was paid for you,
Because you are loved.

Cease trying to repay it,
Because you are loved.

Believe that you are loved,
Because you are loved.