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Also, my God and you

on August 16, 2023

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Also, My God and You

In my God, you also are alive.
In you also, my God lives.

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Patience Perfected

Patience Perfected Better is the end than the beginning. Better is the patient than the proud. Folly boasts of bygone strength, While Wisdom's heart, though sickly struck, With hope of light now long-deferred, Sees and knows the Maker's trust: His people are his portion, His children his preferred. She bears the futile burden, No power of her own can produce the flower's bloom. Yet heaven's Word pours out with power, Working wonders, In the darkness of her womb: Fruit conceived and held in secret, Hidden from the piercing eye, Made ready to breach, breath ready to reach, Formed in darkness, fashioned for light. Groaning too deep for words, Crafted into cries of life, As the Maker's Breath enters, Alive to reside, alive to abide. On earth as in heaven, his glory at home. He set apart the house in the very marrow of its bones, For at the foundation, he found it fitting to inscribe: His name, his name, his name alone! Spirit in his temple dwelling, The Wor

Let the house fall

Let the house fall I'm tired of constantly needing to defend my value, my worth, my dignity. I'm tired of contending with my neighbor for the weight of my attention, of my life, of my spirit, to be communicated, reciprocated, incorporated. I'm tired of asserting the goodness of our Maker to design and fashion a throat: through which to breathe, through which to nourish and sustain, through which to participate in the divine Ruach with the likeness of the Logos. My spirit is worthless to my fellow image; my body is not fit to cherish as a vessel, only to consume as fuel. I'm tired of responding to the tension between agape and death. I'm tired of asserting life. If death will not be satiated with agape... then let death's appetite prevail. What can agape do, but give itself completely? "T

Naked and ashamed

Naked and ashamed I have to hide behind busy-ness to avoid shameful castigation. I'm wearing fig leaves. I'm more motivated by the creature's murmurs of displeasure than I am by the Creator's whispers of love. I'm busy with nothing good. But busy-ness is the preferred apparel in these parts. The presence of busy-ness provokes a blessing on the basis of presumption, as lively activity pretends the activity of life. Perhaps I won't be seen; perhaps a moving target is a harder target. No, there is no sanctuary from the beasts here, in the shadows among the fig trees. Busy leaves still break beneath their biting and their bashing. Fig leaves fall; the face falls and fails together with them. I might as well be naked. Better uncovered in the light than undone in the dark. Better disgracefully naked than covered in disgust. Better to be seen and seized... Than busy to death between the trees.

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Also, my God and you

Also, My God and You

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