SPIDERWEBS (PHOTO POEM)

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Proclamation

I am covered.
I am safe.
You are with Me…
Even when I am not with You, even when I don’t want to be
(the Insanity!)

I am Yours. Your Mess to clean up, Your Daughter to guide and protect, Your Sheep to Keep.

Always.

“…Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” (Matthew 28:20)

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. 11 “All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish.” (Isaiah 41:10-11)

 

Fear (And a Love-Song to a Savior)

I am afraid of many things:
Of eternal loneliness,
of being locked inside four walls
forever.
Never.

I heard once that fear is just
the idea of having to do something without You.
Jesus, Your Presence
flushes out fear,
Your Perfect Love
drives it out
the way Your righteous-rage
drove out the money-makers.
Any takers?
I am feeling lonely again,
yet on the mend,
and I swear I will see Your Face.

Let the moon dip down, into the black sky,
let stars sparkle underneath Heaven’s white light.
So many of us feel lonely, tonight.
Jesus,
won’t You
enter the room,
change the moods of many hearts
stuck in the dark?
Let Your Love, Your Love
shine like that moon in the darkness–
no, better,
like the sun in the morning sky.
Please let the Paper boy
bring me news of Your Unfailing Love–
I need it to survive.

Please, let the early dawn bring me
the fuzzy warmth of my cat, pawing at
me (I love/hate how he does that),
the annoying panic of my dog
and the beckoning of Your Song
to “come away with You” again.

You seem to be my only friend.
In a place like this,
Is that enough?
I know the Sunday-school children may shout “Yes,”
and I should never have any hesitance.
But I do.

Won’t You
make it all loud and clear?
Like the rooster at 8am
telling me to get up, ascend.
Like a His whisper on the phone:
“Good Morning, Beautiful.”
Only Better.
From the Artist Himself?

I am acting like You do not already do this.
The way the moon kisses the stars
and even the haze gives perfect light.
And did you make that sunset just for me?
I swear You did–
those are my favorite colors.

How LOVED I am, by You!
It swirls around,
completely surrounds!
Where can fear fit in
When my God is wooing
Whispering,
Calling me out, again?
It cannot,
does not exist,
in the Presence of Your Love.
It’s physics– or maybe chemistry–

The way you do this to me.
My Father, My Friend,
Hold me in Your Arms, again–
Let me never be
So much-afraid.
Dedicated to Grandpa.
Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.” (Psalm 143:8, ESV)

Dwell

Oh, Lord Jesus
I want to
dwell in Your Living Space
Enclosed, safely
With Your Presence all around me
I want to
dwell in You, Shelter, where
You put me up high
looking down,
yet covered in Your Cloud,
Resting on verdant, verdant hilltops
With Your shade– not harming me,
like the oppressor’s shade is prone to do
But to be at rest
in the near Presence of You

I want to
mount on wings like eagles– dwell on the Beauty of the LORD
let faith arise
let my confidence and stronghold be You,
like impenetrable cement blocks
rising to the skies–
I want to 
rest in Your Unfailing Love
like oceans deep,
dwell in the tides
washing over me

You say that if a man
gains the whole world,
but loses his soul
it profits him nothing
even when he thought the “comfort” he was dwelling in
was something
She can trade money for a Love, grand and astute
But if she bases her confidence on anyone but You
Her confidence will become dust
(Because even the greatest human relationship harbors issues of trust)
And he can build himself up on piles of plastic bags
filled with the latest of fashion, and hottest trending mags
but these things, too
truly provide no shelter to
the one who counts on them–
these things end up in landfills,
never alive but very able to kill
the one who wants to dwell.

 

And then there are those who build their sanctuaries on
multiple degrees and certifications
these, too, are fine and well
but at the core, they cannot tell
what hides inside the human heart–
Your soul can be sold to being very smart
but, you see, knowledge is research-paper thin
The typing and typing will never be enough
For life’s test
Such is the mess
for the one who wants to dwell.

Jesus,
My Jesus,
it was always You.
Your Hands hold the scars
marked by nails I shoved in while trying to build something true.
(You are the best Carpenter, I know not what I do)
You said
You would build my house in heaven— and come and take me to it
Heaven— a permanent place to dwell
With You Forever, no trace of hell
built on Grace, through faith alone
You paid the price to secure my Home!


And so I declare
My Home is You
and no mater what, this is my prayer:
Let me dwell in the House of the Lord, Jesus
–forever–

 

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'”
(Psalm 91:1, NIV)