I could not look Him in the face, so I stood revarnishing the floor with my eyes. He stared into them with this love so offended and profound. He tore the center of my shirt and red ws bleeding through from underneath the white clothes that I wore. The fire of devotion was only an ember. Alarmed at this sign of decay, my legs gave out because there was no self left to stand on. Thus, my heart was grieved, vexed in my mind, still Your banner over me was love. My walls are ever before You, still Your banner over me is love. But it was Your kind arms cradling me, a criminal. But it was your kind arms cradling me, a criminal. Oh wretched worm of a man that I am, on Thy kind arms I fall.** I'm just a man. I'm just a criminal.
**From the gravestone of William Carey, reading only, "A wretched, poor, and helpless worm, On Thy kind arms I fall"
a painful reflection, a broken image, flawed motivations, incomplete. yet embraced, and redeemed, through Your grace, surpassing death. where hope was never seen, and darkness dwelled in the hardest hearts of stone. yet embraced, and redeemed, through Your grace, surpassing death. You lit the flame, with illuminating light that burns within. encompassing, regeneration, sanctifying.
the things you laughed about. the things that made me sad. the times when you were serious. the things that made me cry. why these things were most summed up by another's unrelated song makes me think how unrelatable i can be. it's funny how, there's so many crying out. but you and i are the only two i see. i'd pray for you if i knew how. for that cause maybe two should become one. i saw myself in your eyes. something then made me realize. i cry for you, be who you may. it's funny how, there's so many crying out. but you and i are the only two i see. i'd pray for you if i knew how. for that cause maybe two should become one. maybe two should become one. talk of one obvious answer, that you and i have been denying, tends to frustrate me. in all honesty, i can't tell you you'll find more than conversation. i can tell you you'll find more than beads. from people who would love to see more of you. what they want to see, however, you might be more hesitant to show.
it must have been lonely while You were here, completely man, yet completely apart from man. let us speak of the things that for so many years have recessed in hollow caves. let us speak of the things long hidden in our hearts, the words swelled up in the eddies of our souls. take what it is that has hindered the eyes from seeing. change what it is that has stopped the heart from beating. heal what it is that has kept the lungs from breathing.
breath your love, through my soul. hear the words of my broken praise. i'm dying and you know it. i'm so far away, from you. from you. break through to me, surely no one lays a hand on a broken man crying out in distress all alone. as the grass melts before the fire, may my wickedness parish before, before you. in the time of your favor, and in your great love, rescue me with your sure salvation. break through to me, i am merely a man, crying out in distress. scorn has hardened my heart and left me feeling empty, so alone. it's fading, help my faith to remain. it's fading, help my faith to remain. it's fading, help my faith to remain. it's fading, help my faith to remain.
> For days and weeks I made the parting call. I cupped my hands, my mouth in "O." I shouted saying,"Brothers, hold my fading arms in the air, I am weak!" They just faded there, my voice was gone. Who will rescue me from this body, not the arms, the fingers still І yes, they feel what they touch as well, cut the cords. Let the ancient Adam go. I've been dancing with this corpse for nineteen years. And when I said, "Who will shave my head, and on the might, reveal me in my skin?" All the secrets of fitness: all the fitness He requires is to feel your need for Him.*** In my room, in my room, in this gospel I have made, salvation is a broken cistern in a handmade frame. I cut the sheets into a flag, paint it red, self-pity hangs over the doorway in. From seven times seventy scraping knees, blood lets, deficiencies, these are the layers of bandages, protection from the sting. In this great lacking, I've found a way. And when I said, "Who will shave my head, and on that might reveal me in my skin?" All the secrets of fitness: all the fitness He requires is to feel your need for Him.*** Who will rescue me from this body, not the arms, the fingers still І yes, they feel what they touch as well, cut the cords. Let the ancient Adam go. I've been dancing with this corpse for nineteen years.
Aaron held his peace, so may I (Leviticus 10:3). Please don't think that I'm overcoming great obstacles of disinclination (James 1:2). If you only knew. If I only knew like I wanted to. Though the melody seems tainted, it's the words that carry the hope (Psalm 119:105). Because I walked into the room and laid my head on the hands in which I find inscribed the letters of my name (Isaiah 49:16). There's a certain tension in longing. One that paralyzes fear. One that finds hope in the promises, and in brokenness is complete.
I looked down at my shoes, because I felt the drip of blood fall from my hammer to the leather through my socks. The knots kept tightening their grip. The cords (chords) ring out the history, and time is a mocker as a remedy. The preacher wore a suit, I knew he would. The tiny print rice paper books, I hated how they saw me so transparently. This heart, my thread, I tried so hard. The best that I could sew was death, no matter how I covered it with deeds. What's there left to do? Because the mud only covers up the stains??짖€??짝 who could imagine a holiday at the sea? Down there, in the sea, I should hold my breath 'til this other person's blood is washing off of me. Down there, in the sea, I should hold my breath 'til this other person's blood is washing over me.
I awoke from a dream. I was flying home. The wind wailed on my wings, and my strength was waning. And I knew wherefrom rescue would come, but I scarcely called. Then the sun's rays fell upon me there. Raining, reigning...(and to the ground) a sobering descent. From the dust I'm sure my voice was heard on desolate heights, weeping (Jeremiah 3:21). "Break up your fallow groundand do not sow among thorns" (Jeremiah 4:3). "You shall call me, "My Father," and not turn away from me" (Jeremiah 3:19). As my Father has cared for me to this end (Matthew 10:29-31), how much more will He care for you? O Israel, return (Jeremiah 3&4).
> Is this called discontent? Like the meaning behind the father's proud and angry stroll into the church with the mother s traggling behind with the child, they both smiled. When they reached for the door they were happy again. Grim faces mope about (they ask), ""How shall we live today?"" They walk back-first through the crowds in rooms, looking only for a faster way to advance and pay, throw the deadliest smiles, such things that will never suffice. Their spirits cry, ""All I want to hear is that I'm ok. But the light burns me."" To these people I owe my greatest apologies, for I have been made aware of their needs but I'm afraid that I might share His disgrace. In these thoughts the truth is stripped away. Peeled and peeled away.But because of His great love, we are not consumed. His compassions never fail. His mercies are new every morning. Great is Your faithfulness Lord unto me (Leviticus 3:22-23).
I resisted coming here, to open the harbors that guard my heart (Jeremiah 23:24). Abide with me, fast falls the even tide. This darkness deepens, Lord with me abide. And what does not flow freely from You? Am I convicted of what I say? Forgive me of this pride that knows Your redemption yet shamelessly walks away. And now my life ebbs away. Night pierces my bones, and these gnawing pains never rest. And how I long for that day (when I will return to ashes and dust)(Job 30:17-19). If my steps turn from the path, or if my heart has been led by my eyes, or if my hands have been defiled, then may others reap what I have sown (Job 31:7-8). Better that I dwell in the house of the Lord who upholds all those who fall than reap this harvest of a life waged in the flesh. And what do I gain but the exchange of the truth for a lie? And a heart conditioned not to feel, callused by the nature of my pride? And now my life ebbs away.
> I could not come this time and stand on my feet. I just thought of you and sank. "I'm tough, I'm tough," I told myself...but I fell apart. Thin arms cling lightly to my sunken chest. I hold my breath. Your sad eyes droop with hopelessness, and I feel like I'm dying with you. And I hold your toothpick ribcage. And I pray aloud into your ear, "Lord what would you have of me? To plead before You for this child? Why does faith seem so foreign to me now?" Every time I see your beautiful faces in my thoughts, or in something I see, may faith stand firm. Let it grow from grace I have received and know that this grace abounds to you so far away.
