Tag Archives Christ

Spiritual Beings Having Human ExperiencesVideo Poems

For Anyone that Hasn’t Seen an Angel

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this is for anyone that hasn’t seen an angel
or a burning bush
or an empty tomb
for anyone that never got to touch the wounds

for anyone who was never struck down on the road to Damascus
but is struck now by this road and its vastness

for anyone searching for wholeness in the ashes of brokenness

I read a blog post once where an atheist claimed that it’s the believer’s job to prove that God exists
as if God would create a world and proliferate a gospel
thoroughly and utterly based on faith
and then make that faith meaningless by showing His face
in the sky or something

and I thought why?
why do we always ask to be shown a sign
why should we live life like anxious bystanders
always asking for a reason to join the dance
instead of having the time of our lives

why do they try to make me doubt it
they can’t prove love
but they keep making a lot of songs about it

you know who only believes in what they already know?
robots
I am not a zero, or a one
I am infinity
I’m thankful for possibility
thankful for the opportunity to learn
how to see things that aren’t in the latest edition of a textbook
and that won’t be erased in the next one
for the wonder that moves me
to do things I might not otherwise do
to become what I might not otherwise become

to be on a road that I’m convinced is longer than my patience
to go and see if my principles are stronger than my temptations

or else
what would be the purpose
would it even be worth it
if there were no foggy intersections to disentangle
no uncharted adventures
no precarious unknowns to step out into
it’s scary but those stones that form under our feet
are the pedestals of testimony
a test that only could have been passed through faith
a testament to the test that we’re meant to take

God is not the one meant to be proven here

we are witnesses to wisdom
testifiers of truth
orators of the grandest of glory
doubters will never know the full story
and they don’t want to

I’m not saying I never have doubts
but I’ve found that when I doubt my doubts
when I use doubts as opportunities for building
instead of catalysts for destruction
is when the mountains start wilting
and as the light bends over the horizon
my soul arises from asylum
my eyes are widened, enlightenment arrives
and I receive the utmost instruction

the beautiful thing is
no matter how much I come to know
God is still bigger than that
which means there’s always room to grow more

I’m happy with the evidence of things not seen
and the substance of what I hope for
because this journey is everything I was molded for

for everyone searching for wholeness in the ashes of brokenness
when everything else has failed
when it feels like faith is all we got left
maybe that’s because faith is all we got right
and if we got that
we’re gonna be alright

I guess what I’m trying to say is
thank you
thank you for all the angels without wings
thank you for all the times you burned bushes in my chest
with a flame so powerful
that I felt like I could sprout wings
thank you for my savior that busted the tomb
for gathering up all my sins
and repealing them
thank you for touching my wounds
and healing them

thank you for not showing me your face in the sky
thank you for showing your face in my life

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Spiritual Beings Having Human ExperiencesVideo Poems

What Child is This?

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what world is this
where beasts and evil roam
where moth corrupt
and we walk alone
through crowds gone mad
as vagrants scorned
where drought and dread and dust doth blow
and it just doesn’t feel… like home

we press on through the wretchedness
across the valley of the shadow of death and its
all we can manage
to slosh through the sickness
and crawl through calamity
we are all witness to the fall
what humanity is this
that the sky would forsake with such (fury in) hues of hot gold
these bodies baking and burning
shaking and swerving
as we make this journey in shoes with lost soles
behold

what oasis is this
where we can kneel and taste
of water so pure
and partake of bread
that we will never hunger
and find comfort in our salvation made sure

what truth is this
that would come forth to relieve us
amidst all that would deceive us
what warrior is this
that came through the gallows
victorious
against all that would defeat us

what light is this
so bright and glorious
what commandment is this?
love God and my neighbor
but also my enemies that curse me
what medicine is this
that purges me of my own pestilence
that nourishes me in my negligence
that encourages me in adversity
and emerges in emergency
and furnishes me with breath in my breathlessness
whose death is my deathlessness
and whose rise is my righteousness
what child, what child, what child is this

in a world whose heart would harden us
where we would become lost
in the middle and the margins of
what savior is this
so sweet and marvelous
who would believe from the start and
agree to embark for us
who would grieve at how hard it was
but still kneel and (soak) the scars for us
whose pleading would pardon us
whose bleeding in the garden would
be the healing of every broken part of us

hail, hail for the Word made flesh
whose sentence cemented us in the story
and whose paragraphs
would be the parallax that let heaven’s glory merge with our quest
for the verve in our chest
for eternity’s best
they impaled with nails
and pierced with spears
for the break in the veil
we cheer Him with tears
we’re certainly blessed
for no matter what the world thinks might be king
this, THIS is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
praise be to the babe
the son of Mary
the son of God
that sacred fateful morn
joy, joy for Christ was born
and we are saved

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PoetrySpiritual Beings Having Human Experiences

The Eye of the Thunderstorms

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I need three hands to count how many years I lived in California. I only need one to count how many thunderstorms I experienced while I was there.

The other night I was out for a walk on an empty Texas road. In every direction there were dark skies and frantic streaks of lightning. Thunder grumbled ominously off in the distance.

But where I was walking, it was calm. I could see stars above me. There was no commotion, no wind, no rain.

If we named the storms of 2020 like they do hurricanes, we’d have exhausted the alphabet many times over. I don’t need to list them. They’re stamped into our skin like a reckless night at a tattoo parlor.

Sometimes, the smoke from the fires is so thick that it’s as if the sun slept through its morning alarm and just said “forget it”. And we go whole days
with no light.

But on that quiet road I remembered.

About two thousand years ago there was a whole night
with no darkness.

That stuck with me, because I’ve been searching for light
in what seems to be only darkness.

I’ve been searching for truce
in what feels like a war of the worlds.

I’ve been searching for truth
in a raucous cacophony of ideologies, so many to choose from.

I’ve been searching for a way, like an x-ray
to see through the confusion.

But on that quiet road I remembered.

What better way to find the truth
than through God’s spoken word?

What better way to find light
than by He who created it?

I can’t always find the why of the storms
but I’m thankful
that I can always find the eye.

The calm. The comfort.
The correctness.

Even with the all hardship, harshness,
and thunder in all directions
if we follow Him
we will not walk in darkness.

He didn’t say when, or even if
these tempests would cease
but that He would walk with us
and in Him, we could still find peace.

On that quiet road
He remembered me.

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PoetryVideo Poems

I Am Not Shaken

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mock me, slang me, scourge me, hang me
I was just trying to give you some good news
betray me
profane me
take my name in vain
take my name and proclaim it’s vain
take a flame and propane to the pain I overcame
the shame of these aspartame aspirations
as pertaining to authority
exasperatingly pushing paradigms that are 5 cents short of a quarter
I’ve never been in the majority
so deporting me from my own creation is unfortunately familiar
I’ve seen this one before

I was not shaken when a scribe tried to cross my words
I am not shaken when a scribe buys a laptop and microsoft word
editorials in the times
telling me I’m not up on the times
when I’m up on top of time
shredding me in reddit threads, flogging me in monologue jokes and blog posts
rotten tomatoes will never stand a chance against a rock though

my love is not in any way shaken by hatred
my laws are not in any way shaken by breaking them
as much as the earth may quake and
sway with ferocity and fraudulence
or swirl in great whirlwinds of animosity and opulence
I will not be disheveled
good is good
evil is evil
I will not be… deviled

as long as there’s been truth
they’ve longed to bend it
but lies don’t become true just because they’re trending on Twitter
no condescending comment on Youtube will ever become scripture
like I didn’t get the picture
when I painted it
like I didn’t understand what was in the cup
when I tasted it
like I didn’t understand the stakes of mediation
when I became it
like I didn’t understand the stakes
when they hammered them into me
this is not the first time they’ve spat at me
or abandoned me
they’ve always sat around tables and slandered me
they just didn’t always have video cameras

I am not shaken by heresies or blasphemies
or taken by appearances or majesties
or pharisees or sadducees
I am everlasting
eternal truth amidst evaporating snapchats
I was instagramming at the birth of the universe
#lettherebelight
no filter, it was good
the first ever like
I spun together galaxies
I am not one to get undone by spun together fallacies
and perverted versions of reality
before the Earth was flat
before the sun and planets revolved around the Earth
before you even dreamed of leaving footprints on the moon
or roving around the frozen estates of Mars
I made stars
and no matter how much space these telescopes can parse
they will never gather enough photons
to illuminate hearts

it’s a cold world
to keep warm they’ve always burned believers
spurned redeemers
purged the teachers
empowered the proud and the hateful
devoured the faithful
then turned beleaguered
sprouted towers of babel
it’s never worked but I still see ‘em
trying to reach into heaven with Burj Khalifas
never learned the sequence
the last shall be first

so try as they may to distort the day
they can scorn me say the sun doesn’t exist
but these daily morning rays would say otherwise
no matter how many times the world turns away
every day I rise
I’m still the light and the life
the good shepherd
the eternal exemplar
tarred and feathered, scarred but unfettered
the living water, the earth, wind, and the fire
the undeniable messiah for good measure
the only begotten son
the greatest victory ever won was done
when I surrendered

so mock me, slang me, scourge me, hang me
assail me
impale me
kill me
I’ve seen this one before
I am
I always was
and I always will be

I am not shaken.

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Video Poems

Mary, Did You Know?

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Mary, did you know
that your baby boy walked on water
he made quite a splash
Mary, did you know
that your baby boy saved our sons and daughters?
he laid down his very life
on their behalf

the child that you delivered
has delivered you

he gave sight to a blind man
matter of fact, he was so kind to man
that he gave light to all mankind
he not only calmed a storm with his hand
but he wrapped every drowning woman and man in life preservers
his life would serve as the only one that makes sense of ours
his resurrection would serve notice
to all principalities and powers
that they will never hold us down
the perfect brightness of our hope

Mary, did you know
that there were no depths he wouldn’t go
to show us
that we are loved more than the deepest
reaches of our weaknesses
to teach us
that we are more than wanderers
that we are more than conquerors
that we are more than we can even dream of
all these centuries of debate over humans and nature
to this day he’s the only one
that can change a human’s nature

remember that time he was gone for 40 days
and you were worried sick
the very incarnation of evil
was trying to convince him
to prove his divinity through sin
he instead proved it through sinlessness
the conviction
the fortitude
the integrity
the perfection
the willingness
is it any wonder
Mary, did you know
that he was the only one that
could be our savior

what am I saying?
you knew
with every awe-inspiring act
every time you saw the shadow of the cross fall into his path
you knew
it was all coming to pass
all the lashes he took
you would have taken every last one of them for him
I know how mothers love
…
you knew you were kissing the face of God
but it still couldn’t mitigate the pain
even the sovereign loftiness of mercy
couldn’t soften the burden
or calm the hurt
or counter the consummate cost of redemption
when he bled from every pore
there was nothing in your special mommy medicine drawer
that could soothe the wounds
you just had to endure in excruciating silence
as he turned the world’s greatest tragedy
into its greatest triumph

and now the blind have seen
the deaf have heard
we will all live again
the lame have leapt
the speechless have spoken
the praises of the Lamb
I pray you understand
that it was your sacrifice
that made the whole blessed intercession feasible
you found favor with God
and that favor was returned
with salvation and blessings and joy
unspeakable

Mary, it all came true
your baby boy, the miracle that was created within you
was the Lord of all creation

we’re all still trying to fathom
the magnitude of the magnificence
the volume of the volumes
still pondering and pontificating
still glowing in the glory
I’m so thankful, because you see
that blind man
was me

Mary, I know you know what I know
that your baby boy was heaven’s perfect Lamb
the precious sleeping child that you held
is the Great I Am

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PoetryVideo Poems

A New Way to Think About Car Washes

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I guess you could say she’s seen better days
a crack in the windshield is snaking its way through dirty glass
a couple of the tires are low, treading on journeys past
the check engine light is glowing, has been for a while and
she knows where we’re going, she’s on autopilot
I see you’ve been here before, what’s the mileage
whoa, she’s overdue
leave the keys and sign here, we’ll roll her through

I take my backpack and grab some empty clif bar wrappers off the passenger’s seat
take a final glance back as if my eye contact will comfort her through the poking and prodding
and make my way over to the waiting room
which is a few timeworn tables and benches under a red sun bleached awning
several other people are waiting for their refreshed rides
one is yawning 
a few are texting or instagramming, who can tell
there’s a unique but familiar smell
a cocktail of greasy engines, greasier sandwiches, and jamba juice
I find an empty bench next to a recliner that looks like it used to be a masseuse
there’s a faint argument about (tainted garbage? no) gained yardage between two guys on an old tv
I should pull out that book I’ve been meaning to read 
but I just kill time on my phone
a few handfuls of wasted minutes later I hear my name mispronounced 
they want to know
do I want the $50 air filter – nah, listen  
the fuel injector needs cleaning every 12k miles
but you said 20k last time so let’s risk it

they drain the used oil
and quench her thirst with golden honey from the new purified bottles 
six quarts of elixir to fix her aching joints
viscosity restored
time to pull her forward to the vacuums
those giant orange cylinders of grace
if that grill had lips i’m pretty sure i’d start to see a smile on her face
stale McDonalds fries removed
disburdened of dirt from the floor mats
tiny grains of unwanted souvenirs from the beach liberated from the seat seams
she seems redeemed

she turns a corner, moving tentatively
this next part is only gonna work if she makes it safely in the straight and narrow tracks
she can’t see her wheels and has to place faith in faded harrowed plaques
but with a quick jolt, rusty metal hands grab her axles from below
and she lets go into a baptism of power washers
and giant scrubbers oozing with soap
and hope
potholes forgiven
caked layers of mud from wrong turns on road trips and unexpected rain storms
washed away

she emerges from the watery cave
she beams
the sun glistening off her curves
angels in blue jump suits and gray caps
appear out of nowhere to wipe off any last spots
and polish the rims nice and shiny
they wave a red rag in circles
that means the revitalization is complete
covenants renewed
they hand me the keys
I hand over a few dollars, tithing to the sud gods 
and get in
break open the vanillaroma air freshener and hang it from the mirror 
and we hit the road again

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PoetryVideo Poems

Little Drummer Boy – Musical Poetry Version

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My favorite Christmas song has always been The Little Drummer Boy. But because I can’t play any instruments or sing, I never thought I’d be able to do a “cover” of it and was always a little jealous of those that could. Just like the boy in the song, I never felt that I had a gift that’s fit.

But also like the boy, I realized that I could just give what I had. It may not be a traditional gift or what the world deems acceptable or worthy, but it’s mine. It’s me. My way of honoring his birth and expressing gratitude for the atonement.

I love the line “then he smiled at me”. After everything our savior has done for us, all he really wants in return is our hearts. If we offer the gift of ourselves he will always smile at us. No matter how unworthy we feel, we will always be enough.

Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum. Merry Christmas!

Lyrics:
come they told me
there’s a new born king to behold
a new royalty
bring your finest gifts
to lay before the throne
to honor him

but I told them
I’m not a shepherd
or a wise man
I have no gift that’s fit
I can’t sing like Adele
or rap like Lupe
I have no treasures of gold
but I don’t suppose he has much use for those anyway
I’m just a poor boy too
I only have these words
shall I say them for you?

Mary nodded her head
Kimberly tickled the keys
my 3 cats kept time
and I said my piece
I said my best for him
tore my heart straight out of my chest for him

told him I knew how he felt
when they detested him
and falsely arrested him
I thanked him for the truth
that they scolded him for
told him what the atone-meant to me and the impor-
tance of scorching blood so hot
that he had to sweat me through his pores
for getting through gethsemane on all fours
for the scourging he absorbed
and the thorns
of that barbed-wire halo
for walking on water
when my feet were cemented to the shores
for not only showing me the way home
but getting me through the doors
for becoming like me for a moment
so that I could become like him forever

I told him how these wars and afflictions
were so much more than I envisioned
I mean, I knew about the battle
but not about the scars
I knew about the gamble
but not about the cards
this is hard
these burdens are burning, I’m laden with them
these aches and pains, I feel forsaken with them
then he opened his arms and I saw his palms
I was graven in them
he had scars too
and he saved me with them
changed me with them

my eyes were opened to the liberation in him
and I saw how all these lonely stars
could become constellations in him

true as the noon sky’s blue

I thanked him for the courage
the hope
the ways of wisdom
to navigate every sacred day that I’m given
the amazing grace within him
the favor of forgiveness
when I wavered in suspicion
while they scathed him in prison
and bathed him in crimson
for breaking the system
so that today I can say with conviction
that because my savior was risen
I can rise too

for that
 I gave him all that I could give him

and as these vowels glided across a life time I implored
you were my consonant constant
the figure of my speech
my life line through the storms

it was full of awkward pauses
mispronounced words
stuttered and forged through a discord
of a thousand failed metaphors
I know it’s not much
but every syllable of this discourse
was just me trying to make my life rhyme with yours

my vocal chords were hoarse
and broken
and I could speak no more
I looked up
and I saw my reflection bouncing back and forth
through tears that traversed time and eternity

he said
your words are enough
you are enough

then he smiled at me
me and my poetry

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