Garments of the Son

Feeling on display

Held up to the light

Scrutinized through and through

Unable to take flight

Let me go

Flying towards my heart

To the Hiding Place

Where I can come apart

A high place to fall

From the ledge of perfection

I don't don your approval

Only garments of the Son's collection

I know its my brain

Causing trouble all my days

Searching others' thoughts

Flesh be gone away!

I'm not afraid to fly

Up where you can see

As long as I'm near

The One who gets glory

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In Case You Were Curious

The feat of writing a post and explanation for what happened this past weekend has kept me from even attempting it for some days now. How do you describe miracles but not as to cheapen the treasure of their testimony? First I must begin to explain who this man Steven is, and who he someday will be. Skeptical, I have been for some years now which is why I categorize his existence as a miracle. He is strong. Meek. Authoritative in speech, and yet the most gentle of men. He hates all the usual things like Wal-Mart and loves all the usual authors like G.K. Chesterton. His brokenness before the Lord was what set him apart from the crowd for me. I honor this man with words of encouragement. "Steven, you are dearly loved and anointed by Jesus. Not because you have done great things for Him, but because your heart longs to make Him the focus. You know He is good even in the desert seasons. You have chosen Jesus. You have a closeness with Him that inspires me to seek Him a

Let's Run!

I am tired of making the Christian life look good. I might as well wear the t-shirt that says "Christians have more fun". When Jesus said we could have life to the full (John 10:10), I am told He was not wearing the t-shirt. If anything His shirt would say "fullness of life found here". It's futile of me to think we Christians need to persuade the world that we love our lives. In fact Paul said, "If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men."--1 Corinthians 15:11 If indeed Jesus has been raised, then my living is not empty. I fix my eyes on the prize. That prize is not less drinking, fewer swear words, and a "good job" from morality at the end of the day...it is El Shaddai, God all sufficient. "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to

To Be Seen

I've come to the conclusion that I don't think I ever really liked dancing. I was driving today and this fourth grader grabbed my attention in the car next to me. He was grinning at me, waving profusely. I smiled and gave a little nod and waved back to him. I don't have children, but I understand we more clearly see the nature of the human heart in a child, unadulterated by the need to keep up appearances. The boy wanted to be noticed. As do I. As my eyes went back to the road I remembered doing the same things when I was in fourth grade. That was the age I first auditioned for the Nutcracker. Then and there, I was chosen, accepted, and noticed for what felt like the first time. To be honest with myself, I've had plenty of opportunities to return to the stage after leaving ballet five years ago. I have made appearances a few times and if I really pressed hard, I think I could have gone back into it as more than a hobby. But, almost as if I don't have

Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it

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