A Prayer in a Restless Time

August 23

Shifting.
Restless.
A depression that brings me to my knees.
O God, I cannot see.
O Lord, I have no peace.
I need you here, my Love of Loves.
Humanity has left me empty,
life leaving me wanting more.
My job is unfulfilling,
my home undesirable.
An ache within goes unanswered,
the stirring unheeded.
Lord are you telling me to move?
Then show me the door you want me to go through.
My pacing only distresses me further.
I need a guiding hand,
so here I am.
Lord hear me from my knees.
Hear the voice that cannot utter.
Holy Spirit, rise in me once more.
Move me.
Set me free to dance in your joy.
Remind me the words etched in my skin,
the scar that declares
"for I know who holds tomorrow."
My life, my journey,
is in your hands.
Where do you want me to be?







Note:
This prayer poem was written about two weeks before I lost my job. I knew things were coming to a close but I didn't know when. 
But I act in faith. God is faithful to provide. I am secure in whatever he has in store for me.

Intercessor

There's an echo in my soul that won't let go
     a sad, sad song that takes its toll.
Would it be that for my heart to die that I'd find peace
     or would chaos reign and my joy to cease?
If only I could see my days
     and tread the path of the righteous way.
But my soul grows still, it will not stir
     my desire fails, I move no more.

     My dreams are more real to me than my waking life. I long for sleep if only to escape the pain. It feels to me that in the land of Nod I live, while reality is the ugly dream without an end. I neglect my body, my friends, worsening the guilt of my chosen isolation; knowing I could turn it around yet having no motivation to do so. I long for companionship, yet despise it. I yearn to see the world yet find the worlds of my mind easier to travel.
     I find temporary solace in the arms of another, momentary happiness in the little things of life, and I still laugh hard and laugh often. I have changed, grown, yet am the same. Even when I feel so close to someone or surrounded by people I trust and care for, I still feel alone. Even as I spread little forget-me-nots around, I don't wish to be remembered. I want to be kept. I only find peace with my God, and yet still pursue the Divine in humanity. Deep calling unto deep, I reach out for the spark of God within the souls around me.
     But even then, the pain returns. For lying below the light are shadows. Humanity is the ultimate paradox: designed with the intention to walk beside the Divine, and yet more demonic than demons. We live with choice, every moment of every day. Shadow or Light, good or ill. Shrouding maliciousness, jealousy, and agendas with good actions; using cruelty and cutting remarks to mask insecurities and fears. We lash out in defense like a cornered animal.
     I was told that those who would hurt me are not truly my friends. "They don't deserve you. Leave 'em." But I do not deserve humanity. Humans are still kind - they still care. Many work in fields to make their little corner of the world a better place, reaching out with hands that want to heal, to help, to support, to serve. The spark of God still remains. If only I lived on a world of absolutes, of the binary of good and evil, it'd be easier. Yes, there are some absolutes, but even in a black and white photograph, there is always so much grey. And I see in colors.

There's a wind passing through the trees
      there's a swelling in the underseas.
Whispers over and behind and around
     sighing for the lost and the found.
If only I could find someone
     who could translate the lullaby's of the One.
But my soul does stir, I know it well
     the voice of the Master commands me "Tell!"

     Yes, thanks to God, I can see what others cannot. The spectrum is broad indeed. And my filter is a reverse prism, condensing everything I see into one beam that comes from the Above. But I am flawed. Sometimes I cannot reconcile what I take in. Sometimes I cannot bring the conversation back round to my God. Sometimes - all too often really - I am at a loss. I am left overwhelmed by the information I try to absorb. The pain becomes unbearable.
     There are times where I, in my human state, feel like my gifts are more of a curse than a blessing. Yes, I see light and shadow, negative and positive equally. And sometimes I focus too much on one over the other. And that's what hurts. Temptations, misinformation, misdirection, lies, and my own personal wants come into play, corrupting the stream. I walk on the earth, among the peoples, among individuals and groups. And I feel them. I see them. X-ray vision of the heart.
     And I cannot understand what I see. Pain and joy...lies and trust...love and apathy...masks and truth...respect and racism...complexes and minimalism...creation and sabotage...pride and hope...generation after generation living out humanity in their own way. If only I could be insane and take pills to make it all fade. But as if I'm a walking antenna, I get struck by lightning. Over and over again. My sight is opened and my soul rendered to shreds.
     Someday, maybe someday, I'll be done with the road of Solomon of Ecclesiastes and finally stop my chorus of "Everything is meaningless, empty!" Or perhaps the path I tread is the path of the Psalmists, pouring out everything until I am dry and still wrung for every last drop of joy and grief. But that will never cease. For even when the music's gone, my voice can still be heard. For my voice is not mine.
     My story is your story. My song is your song. Your life, your breath, God knows. God sees. And when I am allowed by God to see, I too see. I may only see a part of the picture, but I see you. My prayers are for you. I am an intern, apprentice of the great Intercessor. I serve and study under the one who speaks words beyond language and utterance, speaking and sighing and singing to God. Do I understand what is I see or feel? Almost never. Once in a while I do understand, but for the most part, I simply try to obey.

The Pain of Love

To fall in love...to taste the drug of the mind.
To crave another person, desire their attention,
To feel your pulse, your breath change tune whenever you think of them.
But like the moon, it has its cycles,
Sometimes bright, full, and in view,
Other times faint or below the horizon.
A mood that changes and flows.
Every new love fresh and you are high once more.
But to love, well, that is different.
To choose to give to another even when there is no high,
To reach out to someone you might not otherwise consider,
Is that not better?
But to love is to be vulnerable.
For there is much risk involved.
When the emotional high fades, one is none the worse for wear.
A sting, and then forgotten.
To move on, grow up, learn, and then to fall in love again,
maybe a little more hesitant, but still desiring to live.
But to love...is to taste pain.
To grieve over and over again.
To know that love is not equal.
Mutual, sometimes, yes. But not equal.
Love is painful.
To sacrifice the freedom of living alone,
sacrifice parts of yourself for the sake of another.
To give up precious time, and emotional strength.
To become rash on decisions and make financial changes.
And whether their intentions are well and good or not,
you will be used.
The child takes, the lover absorbs.
They will lean on you,
and if you truly love,
then you will want to be strong,
to provide,
to continue to give,
to be leaned upon.
And you'll want to lean back - just enough so.
Not to be a burden to them,
but to have them feel needed and wanted.
But the problem with being human,
is that one is always swaying -
leaning or being leaned upon too much.
And fear settles in.
Too far?
Too much?
Too little?
Not enough?
But love does not ask for much in return.
Love is sacrifice.
To really love is a beautiful thing.
But humanity uses and abuses love.
We all do.
I am guilty of it.
And I have felt the effects of the other side of the coin.
I gave, only to have it all taken away.
Ripped from me.
And I loved again, but it was not reciprocated.
To love is to be vulnerable.
To love yet not be loved, or to love and be wronged...is agony.
...but it is worth it.
For it is all we have.
To love -
is to die in order to live.
To love -
is to provide hope for one who has none.
To love -
is to give because you had been given to.
To love -
is to be Somebody for a Nobody.
To love -
is to bleed to provide life.
This is the pain of love.

I Broke the Rules

I broke the rules.
I did a thing.
But I have no guilt, I have no shame.
Is it because I've done this deed before?
Or because I misunderstand the rules?
All my life I've been told one way.
And the Word of Life that I hold dear,
     seems to agree with what they say.
But then why do I have no conviction?
When I hold God's hand, when I yearn for the Truth?
Why do I feel no wrong?
I was given my conscience for a reason.
I've been learning to listen to the Spirit.
Then why does she seem so silent?
Have I grown deaf?
Or is this a thorn in my side?
A sin that will plague my humanness for my life?
Oh God my God, I do not understand.
Lead me in Your way.
Show me what I must do.
So many preach this a heavy sin, but I feel no weight.
Yet I do not feel peace, a sure sign that my steps are not quite right.
Which way do I turn to walk Your path again?
Or have I faltered at all?
My Lord, I do not understand.
I am still sinking into You, regardless of the sides I swing.
So who do I listen to, as deep calls unto deep?
Whose voices are you using to reach me?
I am not alone in this.
Surely You know my worries and fears.
It seems to them that I broke the rules.
So where is the discipline, or the gentle nudge?
Or are you letting me stray so that I'll get lost again?
So that in my despair I'll cry to You? Run to You?
Is this what it takes?
Am I so stubborn to not see the pit before I fall?
Open my eyes.
Open my ears.
Let me hear You.
Let me see You.
I know You're there.
You're still guiding me.
Then tell me why do I not feel the rumble strip,
     warning me of impending danger?
Why do I not feel the Wind pushing me back to You?
Is this sin?
Have I truly taken two steps back?
Become despicable?
A wretch once more?
Tell me this is not true.
I'm not a monster.
I'm made new in You.
So why am I numb to this, according to them?
     They who are Your people?
They are not perfect, but then neither am I.
Is this my imperfection?
Tell me, Perfect One,
     did I break the rules?

Nothing Stays

The Great Irony: Nothing Stays.
Humans are creatures of habit but change is inevitable.
Permanency is a construct - an ideal.
Nothing stays the same forever.
And yet we expect it such.
We yearn for a stability, a comfort, a truth.
But feelings fade, decisions are made.
Jobs change, situations arise.
Accidents, fatal mistakes, and disease occur.
The changes happen
and the adult longs for the good moments to stay.
But
The child wants to grow up.
The teenager seeks after dreams.
The single craves the relationship.
The lover longs for commitment.
The unhappily married desires renewed freedom.
But few consider the consequences.
The ramifications behind every single life choice.
The truth that every human is a hurricane,
leaving disaster in their wake
focused solely on a specific goal
unaware of the lives of others changed forever.
The child loses their naivete and innocence.
The teenager is broken.
The single is tricked again.
The lover is abandoned.
The divorcee affecting the entire family and not just their own life.
And yet, inside every wandering hurricane is an eye.
A heart in the eye of the storm, pursuing another.
Wishing for something endless.
Time becomes but a thought - a way of remembering the past and measuring potential future.
We live a way of life, expecting it to remain the same.
Developing callouses, until we get cut.
Going to work the same way for years, only to end up in a crash.
Diagnosed for a incurable sickness.
Dating someone, loving someone, only to be alone once more.
Living alone only to have to accept a new life into your space.
Fired, moving, evicted, betrayed, dying.
We cannot handle the change.
But change was the only constant here.
What were you expecting?
Gotten too comfortable?
Nothing stays.
Nothing stays, nothing permanent, no one lives forever.
And the suicide rates climb.
Death is not an escape either, my friend.
An ending not the constant to pursue.
For though you think you change nothing for no one else,
Your death will alter the still alive.
Nothing stays.
But we crave the spark of eternity.
I see your spark.
In each and every breathing life.
The darkness, the pain, the past.
The light, the joy, the strength, the hope, the power inside of you.
I see it.
If even for a brief instant.
Like a comet in the night sky, here and gone.
But it was there.
And that is enough for me to have known you for a time.
Although I am saddened yet again.
Although I am not satisfied in life for nothing stays,
the knowledge that the eternal exists is enough to drive me forward.
To see the next spark.
And the next one.
And the next.
Some of you I will know for months, even years.
Others only in passing.
But still I see it.
You don't stay.
Nothing stays.
But you don't have to stay.
I've stopped begging for the change to never come, for my loved ones to stay.
Nothing stays.
But when it's gone, when you go,
you leave behind the memory, the taste, of the spark inside of you.
That tiny bit of life gives me hope and life.
I've stopped focusing on being alone, left behind by the falling stars.
For now I see the galaxies, the stars beyond.
For now I see the shapes of the stones in the River.
For now I see the Eternal in the mortal, Infinity in the finite.
Life in the face of Death.
The promise of the permanent in the fickle.
The ocean in the tide.
I see it.
The Great Irony: Nothing Stays in the Light of Eternity.