Posts Categorized: poetry

Furnace of God's Presence

Furnace of God’s Presence

I am in the furnace of God’s presence
Where all I’ve learned from scripture
of your character becomes tangible, concrete,
and battle-tested by false belief.

Pushed into the furnace of God’s presence
Shame will not singe me.
The flames of intended destruction
laugh and lick around my delicate flesh with delight. Possessed.
The truth of Your love—a breath prayer.
I am nothing more than a suppressed slave to the world’s whim.
What power do I have against mighty nations?

But I’ve witnessed your sovereign will
You destroy idols and humble mankind.
I’m here in these flames of trust, you are here in your faithfulness.
On tiptoes of hope, I stretch out my arms to heaven
and submit to my Sovereign King, Redeemer, Rescuer, and Abba, come what may.
Head tilted towards heaven in defiant praise, I shout,
“Glory is Yours alone. There is no
other!”
.
I surrender to Your holy presence.
The only fire that consumes me.
I trust You in the even if…

 

(This poem was inspired by Daniel 3 when King Nebuchadnezzar threatened to throw three young Hebrew men into the furnace if they did not bow down to the image made in his likeness.)

 

“Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered and said to the king, ‘O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up’ ” (Daniel 3:16-18ESV).

For further reading: A God I Did Not Form

Marriage By Design

Tender tenacious kiss of one
who embraces hope when all seems lost.
One who traces hot tears of misunderstanding back
to their source and chooses forgiveness. One
who adventures to, discovers, and treasures your identity.
One who walks with you,
fingers entwined in quiet. One who
stands fast to protect when your soul
is battered by attack. One designed
by The Creator to love you.

Surrendered to His Glory

Surrounded by celebration
Under the illuminating lights of
R
essurection power, I
Recognize every blaring blemish
E
ndured on the cruel cross for me.
N
aked truth. Stripped of
Distraction. Believe in Him. Abide in Him.
E
nter into love so tangible death is
R
endered speechless. My ego submits
Eternally from self-indulgent glory to 
D
ance with deliberate delight before the one true king.

 

 

Rooted Tree, Grow in Christ

Tree.
What are you afraid of?
You are rooted.
Storms strengthen.
Drought triggers thirst for Him.
Sacrifice multiplies seeds of hope.
Nothing is wasted.
Not even death.
Grow with sun-kissed joy!

Not Cotton Candy Faith

This isn’t fairground faith,
Setting up temporary attractions to entertain,
This is a battleground.

This is a crawl-on-your-belly-through-muck kind of faith.
Faith like this knows the pain of barbs and mourns the consequences
of not hitting the mark.

Faith
in Jesus Christ doesn’t melt in your mouth
and jolt your system with a quick high. This faith knows
drought and famine and still
chooses to grit it out and hope.

Upside-Down Kingdom

My flesh stings with the stripes of suffering. Persecuted,
rejected, abandoned. What are these to me in light of eternity
with You? Your upside-down kingdom of servant king is a balm
to my heartache.

Though my flesh revolts at the dirt of humility and
my mind balks at unseen hope, I pick up my cross
and follow You night and day. Faith in You never
disappoints! Tears and songs
gurgle and bubble to the surface like a spring. You, Oh Lord,
are the source of circumstance-transforming joy.

And when my night comes, when all hope seems lost, and my flesh
bleeds to betray You. May I
cry out like Jesus. “It is finished,” and trust your resurrection power.

The Evidence of Your Love

Somewhere between presence and depression
I stopped being and started doing.
Repeated lies and nursed wounds.

I checked out of Hotel Truth and
checked into the flea-infested Motel Fear.
There was no room service. No one changed the sheets
of self-loathing and cynicism I slept in day after day. I drank the
amber whisky of my own thoughts and called the burn enlightenment.

The knock was insistent, acknowledging my existence. Disrupted my
pathetic pattern.

The knock reached into the shadows of isolation.
“Hello?”
The knock again.
I cringed as if hit. “Go away!”
I hugged the closest bottle like it would ward
off the intruder.
The knock again was gentle violence to my demons.

The barrier to my soul shattered. Painfully stripped of all dignity
I was afraid you would reject me.

You came into my filth and saw me. All of me.
You, Oh Lord, washed me, clothed me in righteousness.
Confusion doesn’t even begin to explain that moment. I was so
secure in my destruction. You were secure in my salvation. Everything
shifted. My worldview, my understanding of grace, justice, flesh. But I wanted
your presence. Wanted you to fill me with your light until I craved nothing else.

You came into my dark world and prepared a banquet. I’m invited! You’re invited! Come! Come and
see what the Lord has done for me!

Poetry Testifies to What I’ve Seen and Heard

Hero words take up swords
and slice through false beliefs with the authority
of the one sent.
Poetry is a place to find refuge. You are here
in the observations of my soul. Reminding winter of
its boundaries and cultivating plump vines for harvest
in the desert of despair.

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