Posts Categorized: poetry

Roses of Hope Beyond Your Grave

Posted May 4, 2023 | Karisa Moore

 But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. (1 Corinthians 15:51 The MSG, Biblegateway)

My son’s birthday and Mother’s Day are irrevocably intertwined. He is my firstborn. The one who taught me both the joys and sorrows of motherhood. I am very intentional about May. I don’t want to forget that as much as eight birthdays without Jonathan hurts, the joy of living these almost nine years with Christ shows me hope is not diminished by the grave.

Turning My Page

Your birthday and motherhood are intertwined
like a wild rose around my heart.
The barrier of death pricks to marrow. Yet, the
sweet fragrance of Hope, salve to my sorrow,
grows tangible beyond the thorns of your grave.

 

Turning Your Page

Think of a moment when something you hoped for became a reality. Did you know for sure that it would happen?

Hope is tangible, and the more we grow to know the character of God and his son, the stronger and sweeter the fragrance of hope. In Christ, hope is never fickle, no matter how many thorns we experience to the contrary.

  • List as many moments where hope was realized as you can. Look at the qualities of your hope. What made you confident that the thing you hoped for would happen?
  • Look up a few attributes of God. How does each characteristic make hope in Jesus more concrete?

Lord, I don’t always see the roses growing among the thorns of my circumstances. Teach me to recognize your ways so that I can see beyond this temporary life. Amen

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The Rhythm of the Cross

Posted April 7, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Before the swell of gospel melody,

The steady scales of scripture

Are plunked out in daily practice.

I play my Father’s masterpiece.

 

Before the crowd of miracles,

Prayer plods through lonely deserts

noting life’s measure.

I play my Father’s masterpiece.

 

Before the timing of pharisaic dissidence,

Lessons in theory reveal the authentic

character of the world’s composer.

I play my Father’s masterpiece.

 

Before the crescendo of resurrection,

there is a garden path of surrender

where I watch the winding procession of betrayal.

I play my Father’s masterpiece.

 

Before the harmony of fireside discipleship,

I close my eyes and listen to the master play.

Tuning my heart to the rhythm of the cross.

I play my Father’s masterpiece.

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Seized by the Gospel

Posted January 19, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Pressed between the simplicity of your call, “Come follow me,”
and the complex crush of my daily cross,
I am humbled to my knees.

Here, shaped by the gospel of Your foot
washing love
I can gently, patiently, fish for men.

 

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The Mystery of Hope

Posted December 23, 2022 | Karisa Moore

I cradled hope like a fragile fledgling.
It shivered—tender
warmth against the concrete cold of
my anguish.

Hope is a wild, open-palmed expectation. Because
You are good, it will fly.

 

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Dance to Your Love

Posted December 20, 2022 | Karisa Moore

Arms outstretched in worship
to a song my soul sings.
On tiptoes, I expect to touch heaven.

And you bring heaven to dance with me. You
strum restless leaves and kiss my head
with the sunshine spotlight of your love.

Sing to me your delight as I move to the rhythm of
your salvation. Fear no longer hinders. I spin
and step out on the dancefloor of creation to glorify you.

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Immanuel Came

Posted December 16, 2022 | Karisa Moore

You didn’t hold Christmas back from my troubles.
You slipped into my dirty world on a crowded
night of cares, with a star and angels as a birth
announcement.

Chubby fingers curled around my broken
heart before I knew I needed you. The earthy
the fragrance of shepherds, a stable, a carpenter,
and a young girl seems an unexpected
entrance for a king.
You lifted my tear-stained cheeks to
take in the wonder of Your presence.

My soul, crushed by a million fears,
found joy and peace in a tiny dependent baby—
God dependent upon a woman, the words
twist in my mouth as sacrilege. Yet you
upended my every flesh-tainted notion
of your holiness.

God with me, so that
I know that I know my sorrow
is not in vain.

A tangible God, for a flesh and bones sinner,
nestled in strips of cloth. I can hardly take
the majesty of your complete love.

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Pain Unwrapped

Posted November 8, 2022 | Karisa Moore

Patiently packaged within pain
is the gift of possibility.
Unopened or opened—content remains the same.
My future is secure in the gift-giver.
Oh Lord, help me tear away the wrapping of fear, bitterness, and despair
and gasp in awe at your glory.

My passion—tangible hope secreted within the gift of suffering.

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Model of Forgiveness

Posted August 2, 2022 | Karisa Moore

How do I turn the other cheek?

Do I glare down my enemy with
kindness? Slap them over the head with
generosity? Silence them with my devoutness?
Humiliate them with my humility?

The goal of forgiveness can’t be to glorify self.
“Look at me. I’m better than them.”

I know no other way to forgive than to
take up my cross and follow Jesus.
To  train taut muscles ready
for revenge to submit to God’s will.

When I recognize that He sweated and bled
for both my enemy and I,
forgiveness becomes a gritty
part of who I am—a scream of 0bedience—not a selfish sacrifice
to force the other person to change.

Forgiveness has no return receipt.

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The Sweet Fragrance of Worship

Posted July 28, 2022 | Karisa Moore

Mmm, what is that sweet fragrance?

I am learning to crawl onto
the altar of trust,
daily,
and die to self.
Oh God, refine me.
In the flames of suffering,
nothing else matters but You.
Burn off all that hinders
until thoughts and actions renew.
And I remain
whole and pleasing to You.

Mmm, what is that sweet fragrance?

Worship.

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