HAND TO LEAD

Lord, be the one to direct my heart; steer me true.  May my losses be gathered to You, and my victories Yours.  I am without if not for your hand to lead.

GROUNDED

What will I ever grow into or become that is not ultimately derived from your providence?  No place I could go, no people I am with, no field I may plow will change my need.  What locality is distinct from the love You’ve given?  Keep me grounded in the soil of wherever it is you may lead.

VICIOUS VINE

with this we shan’t fear when we see the
markets diving,
kingdoms plummeting, and
rulers hoarding.
this world is yours,
everything held together by
a love that ran itself into the ground
only to sprout itself back into
a vine that sustains
everything in its path.
we won’t find life
apart from yours, and
we won’t find ruins beyond
hope of rebuilding.

PITCHFORKS & DAGGERS

You approach shimmering
Smiling kind
walking smooth;
and I’m stopped stunned
friendly words
staring absurd.

It’s hard to clear a mind
In a world so crowded
(hopes and cares;
wants and fears;
beautiful girls,
to call them dears…)

With each bat of those lashes
an unforgiving blade
glimmers sharply
and falls heavy,
your eyes the guillotine
to another admiring gaze.

I thought you would carry this load
like a lead sweater,
but it sounds like I’ll have to wait
and see or hear
the weatherman speak
a brighter forecast,
the soothsayer to create
a more comfortable spell.

In the meantime
I’ll sit here treating
the residual wounds of
pitchforks & daggers,
the strange residue of
your tender glance.

FILTER

I need a filter.  Just trying to sleep last night, I was bombarded by residual noise.  Twitter feeds, news articles, blog posts, finances, environ(mental) atrocities (tar sands), convictions about overspending on corporate coffee chains.  It plugs my mind and blocks this soul from seeing the one that must flow through.  You.  Your peace.  Your face.  So maybe it is that You are not the filter, but the one thing, the water that must be salvaged from the clutter.  May you grant me discipline as the filter, allowing this mind to start with the most important.  All that is strained out can wait for its proper time in respect to the one who must remain Lord.

FARMER

Who is this laborer
who raises up the harvest
from lands that were barren?
Raking and tilling
even when He was weary,
holding the vision
when all else was dreary.
And now we see these sprouts,
stems, and seeds – life
it comes in shouts.
When that good breath falls,
all that was dead grows new,
fresh life cracks from
the dirt in which it grew.
We’ll soon collect the pods
and gather the seeds,
we’ll speak with that farmer
and have no more needs.
And you’ll ask,
“Do you remember when
all our yearnings were way back then?”

BANNER

everywhere i look i’m seeing
red,
with no one bleeding;
white,
with no one cleaning;
blue,
with no one drinking
water to salve
dirtiest wounds.
yet it waves above our heads and
sits on our towers,
while we run about
getting what we want,
without regard for that which will bring
deepest pleasure -
fancies that tickle but
don’t last.
we’ve forgotten the blood that made us
pure
and left us without thirst.

STEPPING HEAVY

save me from this sham
into which i can so easily
devolve.
may i not be a shell
walking meager,
but rather a structure robust,
moving in steps like
marble pillars.

my eyes are
golden-framed mirrors,
enshrining the ordinary,
only to leave
the holy and myself
without shade.

CLICK AND READ

I’ve written you a letter!  To read, click the pictures below; or if you’d prefer to view a PDF, click here.

A WEEK WITH SEX+MONEY

I’ve spent the last week with the Sex+Money team in and around the Seattle, Washington and Vancouver, B.C. metro areas.  Over the last week we’ve screened the film at the University of Washington, Studio 319 in downtown Vancouver; and tonight we show the film at Grace Point Community Church in Surrey.  Up until this point in my life, I’ve always felt a severe dichotomy between my YWAM community and my ‘back home’ community.  Though it still feels a bit odd, it’s a relief to feel like I’m not having to maintain two separate ways of relating to people.

Until this week, I’d never been able to explore Vancouver, B.C. as much as I’d have liked to.  This week we’ve been able to visit Gas Town (which reminded me of Amsterdam, sans canals) and Stanley Park.  The sunny and clear weather provided brilliant views by day and by night.  This morning we had a meeting to set the tone for this summer as we all prepare for the 50 State Distribution Tour which will begin this August.  After the screening tonight we’ll all head back down to Seattle, from where we will part ways tomorrow.