Poor Today. (or Come, Lord Jesus.)

With my lips i
Spoke, Relief!
And with my eyes I saw it
It crept in my windows as sure as the morning
Illuminated my present darkness with mercy

There are times when all I have is nothing.
When all I can do is plead, beg, borrow.
So lend me your words today.
I cannot afford this sorrow.

I'll take a poet's stance.
I'll hide behind the herds.
There's no more song, no more dance.
I just need words.

I'll take God's then.
Wield the sword, the pen.
it's pages', it's laws,
it's pauses, it's maws.

Anything to articulate
Anything to alleviate
this raw, this flaw
this gash, this jaw.

I just need words.

So

With my lips i
Spoke, Death!
And with my eyes I saw it
They unplugged you from your mortal breath
to usher you into the deep.

With my lips i
Spoke, Life!
And with my eyes I saw him
reach over to embrace you
carrying you with wings
spanning too wide to measure

Ascending to where I want to be.
Accession to who I want to be.
Awaiting now my turn to leave with bated breath.
Aching to return in the mean of while, until my life meets death.

With my lips i
Spoke, Peace!
And with my eyes I saw him
lead me to quiet waters, so still - I could hear my, his, your heart
I'm renewed, back to the start

For lack of better words, let me borrow yours.
For lack of better years, let me live yours.
For lack of better wisdom, let me hear yours.
For lack of better character, let me wear yours.

With my lips i
Spoke words
And with my eyes I saw You.
Unflinching, my weary eyes have strayed - now stayed
On you, on yours
See this seal? I'm yours.

Introduction.

Read my previous post, and realized it didn't make very much sense. But it was a good reminder of where I was at emotionally, and spiritually. 

I just got done taking care of the beautiful and the shot - Mahto kids. The parents are unfortunately down with the stomach flu. (Please pray for the Mahtos.) As I decompress, I wanted to be able to put my thoughts on paper - so here it is. I have been really blessed to be here at Irvingboro, it's so much better than being homeless. *laughs* I am also definitely indebted to everyone who has been gracious to me and obedient to the Lord's instruction to bless me. That has kept me fed all these weeks.

Not too long ago, a good friend of mine told me, "Please don't be offended. But I think you're too apologetic and gullible lately." I did not disagree with him, because it was true. Lately, I've felt an increase in social anxiety and I was trying to figure out where it was stemming from. I've made a lot of communication errors on the way -- and have confused people. I guess there's nothing more to say than this: that in trying to figure this awkwardness out, I have not been able to socially function well. And I can only hope for empathy/grace/forgiveness/[insert relevant word] from dear friends who've had to bear with me. (Thanks, Jake.)

Tell me what's going on inside of me
I despise my own behavior
This only serves to confirm my suspicions
That I'm still a man in need of a Savior (DC Talk)

It finally dawned on me what this was all about. It started when I shared with people about my situation with my employment card. I was frustrated about : not being able to take care of myself, doubting that this was what God wanted for me, my tons of foolish pride, broken ideals/expectations and the queasiness I was getting from the rapid change in plans, lifestyle, and routine because of it. 

I began to feel insecure around people who knew what I was going through, feeling overtly ashamed about my situation of not being able to take care of myself, became apologetic to people with stronger personalities -- not being able to withstand "intimidation" as my confidence was pretty much shot due to my dependency. I also knew I was being irrational emotionally, but it's just one of those things that always seem to wrestle for your attention. (Thanks, Brittany and HuiMin for spiritual discussion about insecurities.)

Realization: I define myself by how much money I have/am getting. 

My heart sank as I typed that.

Then begins the over-analytical phase. God, I truly need to learn how to take my imagination/thoughts captive!! What utter rubbish the carnal mind spews. I hate that I'm bound by so many mechanisms that trigger or shut down social functions! I read Romans 12 again today. Do not be conformed, but be transformed -- by the renewing of your mind! The battle against self is the most brutal of all. Paul wasn't kidding when he talked about spiritual warfare and putting on the armor of God (Ephesians 6). (Thanks, DJ for the spiritual counsel on the way to Fargo.)

On top of that, I've been transitioning into adulthood. Sure, I've been an adult by age -- but definitely not in lifestyle. Many of my closest confidantes are gone, moved away or have moved on to a different phase of life. Soon, my college student friends will be caught up with school, and with the new students that will come in (inevitable and expected). Suddenly, the need to build a new guild of like-minded adult friends becomes urgent. Who do I keep accountable to? Or rather, who can I trust to keep accountable to? (Thanks, Rob.) Learning to deal with broken pride and expectations have been the order of the day. I have to remember that this will prove to be invaluable to me in future. I have to keep pushing through this oddness.

Because the conclusion -- or rather, the introduction -- to all of this, (brace yourself for the cliche) is not about me, and it's never going to be about me. This life I have is God's project. The ministries I have had the opportunity to serve and participate in, have never added or taken away from His work. I really need to stop kidding myself that I am at all in control of anything. Because I truly am not. (Thanks, Mike.)

Thanks for bearing with me, dearest of friends. The next time you do get frustrated with me and my awkwardness, please consider my wrestling against my own flesh. The best quote I have heard this week is: "I'm sorry for not being Jesus." 

And I say that with all my heart. Thanks for reading.

Here again. Storm of thoughts.

Here I am a month later. And the permit has been delayed again. Setback after setback.

I have been walking a lot lately. Just to clear my head. Just to refocus. I think God knows I need this lesson in patience. Furrowed brows, nervous heart, quivering lip -- as I try to figure all of this out. And God says to trust Him.

I really need to quit these voices in my head. How do you silence the enemy? Or will it just continue to rage in you throughout this season of setbacks and doubt? I know in my heart that God will come through for me. He has given me that peace.

So why do I feel despondent? I want to depend on you, Lord. All these hopes and dreams - is it all vanity? Is this from you? If this is not it, show me, tell me.

I'm listening. Life is too short, I've lost so much time already. If you say go, I will go.

Only So Much.

There's only so much that I can say, before I begin exploding (if not imploding) about how crazy and amazing you are to me. These past few weeks have been literally torturous for my impatience - but a challenge for my morale, spirit and esteem. Just trying to figure out if you want me here in beautiful Bemidji, or to pack up and ship out. This is forcing me to really grow dependent on you and your counterparts here on earth. 

I'm listening for you. Speak to me. 

I refuse to raise my hopes for this job, but there is hope nonetheless. I'm praying that this thing gets through but is this what you want? I doubt you're pressed to help me figure out something so trivial -- but I'm asking you anyway. There's just been way too much leeway and I've slipped between the cracks one too many times. I need you to go ahead of me this time. I will not go if you don't. 

I feel frustrated.

Maybe because I've been here before. You'd think that one could graduate from these things. *laughs* I recognize this time of doubt. I recognize these thoughts. These questions. These distractions.

And then I recognize your love. Your provision. Your patience. I recognize your peace.

Yet I speak like an insolent little child. Demanding the rights of a prodigal -- which is what, really? And for what purpose? So I can squander it on the shallows of life? My God, my God, why have I forsaken you again? Am I so fickle a creature that I am so prone to abandoning my creator? 

You hold all things together -- even the very fibers that make up my being. You know the plans you have for me. In that, I will be content. In that, I will rejoice in my uncertainty. I will remember your gift of hope for my mortality. I will remember the gift of eternity for humanity.

I will remember You.

What can I say without imploding (or exploding) about how lovely, and how all-knowing you are? Only so much.

On days when nothing is right.

My present state of consciousness is a little fox being chased down by a pack of violent memory-hounds, fiercely barking up the time-tree from which I've sought my interim refuge. They are loud. Overwhelmed by the chaos in my head, I fall off and into an ocean of tears below. A deep blue that spews waves, haunting with thunderous voices so loud you don't know it's there. They are eventually ceased, crashing on the shore of this reality I have become grossly accustomed to. Must there be so much of you, Ignorance? Is there nothing more beautiful than you, that I should choose you above another?


How real is my mortality. How real is eternity. How real is my Lord.