Gomer

You look at me
with that look in your eyes
You swear You're in love.
But how can that be?
You've walked in
so many times
to me in bed with others.
Lovers that I tried to give my heart to
that I tried to fill myself with
so many empty attempts.
And when I ran away
unfaithful as I've been
You went out in search of me.
And with tenderness brought me home
and bandaged my wounds.
I expected the rod
to beat the insolence and lust out of me.
But instead I felt your warm touch
your comforting words
and Your sheer joy to have me home again.
One taste of you was enough
to satisfy me in ways
they never would.
So here I stand
looking into Your blazing eyes
awestruck by Your indescribable love
because I am so unworthy.

Temple

I stand in your temple
heart beating fast
I can't bare to be here.
I want to tear it down
I long to watch it collapse on itself.
My fingertips are torn and bloody
as I scratch at the bricks
trying to rip a hole open
trying to destroy
what you made.
Your sanctuary
the very place you dwell.
But I'd love to drive you out.
To bleed you out,
like blood flowing
from a thousand little cuts.
I bang my fists on the walls
I kick and scream
my feet ache
I'm hoarse and bruised
but I won't relent
not until you leave.
Who decided anyway
that this belongs to you?
You did?
Why would you want to dwell here,
in this ugly place.
The ceiling is dripping with tears
held in secret.
It is dark and full of cobwebs
dank and suffocating.
How could your light ever shine?

Just leave, get out!
It's useless,
You've seen it all, there's no hope
why won't you just leave,
go build on something beautiful
not in this dank cave.

Your voice echos in the darkness
Do you still not see, that this is where I'm meant to be?
And suddenly this place is filled with light
warm light
pure and singing
glowing in brilliance
and I don't see the same.

One day, you promise
it'll all be finished
all this construction,
for now you'll keep working
day by day by day
brick by brick
restoring these weary bones.
And we'll look back together
and admire Your masterpiece.
It's too late to stop you
I've already signed the contract with your blood
what's done is done
I am yours

Everything Beautiful...

I repeat the promise to myself
over and over and over.
but it is so hard to believe
in the deep recesses of a calloused heart
that You will make everything beautiful.
Everything that you touch.
When I look in the mirror
it's not what I see.
I see the ugly scars
I've given myself
the places others have cut
the accidents and the willful wounds
how healed over.
Ugly.
But I remember the promise
like a worn note
in the pocket of washed jeans.
Will you really make Everything beautiful?
Surely not me.
Me?
The scars are too deep
the mess to big
the fabric too ripped,
wouldn't you rather scrap this idea
and begin anew.
but you don't
that wouldn't show how amazing you are.
You'd rather fix things
though I'll never understand
how this is making me beautiful
I'll trust you with this mess that I've become.
Perhaps the time is coming soon
when I'll see what You see.

Why

When I think of you
in those times when I ponder
thoughts often much too deep
for my minuscule mind.

Just who exactly are you?

I know I'll never really understand.
It'll always be foggy,
like a thought that you just lost.

And what of me?

how do you even know I exist?
better yet why do you care?
I know that you do, but I'll never
know why

Why?

Why?

Why create me?

You knew right then who I...
Who I'd become,
and still You breathed Your breath of life into me.

How could you never doubt me?

How could You still love me?

I don't even love me always

I know that this is wrong
that I've no right to question You
but my whole being aches to know
what I will never know

perhaps when we stand face to face
this fogginess will become clear
as the sea of glass which I'll stand upon.
Until then I'll always wonder why.

Useless Words

Lately it seems
I have so much to say
about nothing.
I waste my words
on a moment,
a feeling
rush of emotion
that is utterly
meaningless.

Out of the overflow
of the heart
the mouth speaks

Is my heart then full?
Full of useless things
Like an attic cluttered
with all of the things
no one needs
yet cannot throw away.

Once again it's time
to throw open the windows
and let your light stream in.
To open the door
and let you help me.
Though it's the dead of winter
it's time for spring cleaning.

Day Dreaming