I had mixed feelings from the life story that a man named George gave this morning. I have felt as he described. Not wanting to get out of bed. Wanting to die. Every day, for months on end. I felt that way in 1990-91. I went to bed praying to God that he would, at least kill me. [my exact words were: "I'm going to close my eyes now. Please don't let them open again... ever." every morning I'd open them "____, I'm still here"] Yet as the days wore on I prayed for God to "un-make" me. So that I wouldn't simply stop living... rather, never to have lived at all.
...yet, if you read this blog... if you enjoy my poems... you should be thankful for those dark days. For shortly thereafter, is when my poetic writings began. That was when I began to seek solitude on Saturday mornings. Around October, I "threatened" God. Yeah, it does sound funny, doesn't it? I sat there & told him I wasn't moving or speaking till he did something. Even if it meant he "came down & kicked me in the face". [yes, those were my exact words to the Almighty!] It took several hours for me to actually be quiet. All the way down to my thoughts. Then it was like he walked out from behind a tree sat down beside me & said: "So you're going to shut up & listen...Wow, this IS a first for you."
It took all of that, the better part of a year, to get me to spend 1 on 1 time with God. [from April to October] He didn't wave a magic wand & "POOF" my problems were gone. Yet, when we were together, on those mornings... I felt alive. I felt 2 extremes at the same time. Like I had electricity running through me. Wide awake, as though the words were redefined. Yet at exactly the same time I felt a deep peace. A peace so deep, it made the Grand Canyon seem like a crack in the sidewalk. When I was in those moments, nothing else mattered. Money, car, job, no girlfriend,... none of these things, true as they were then, mattered. Heck, they didn't even occur to me then! I was with God, my maker. shortly thereafter, words would come. Like you were pouring a glass of your favorite drink. Words would, at times, flood out so fast my hand & fingers would hurt trying furiously to put them to paper as they came. I shared them with someone, sure they were song lyrics. As I think I've said here before, he said: "this reads like poetry." "oh" was my halfhearted reply. I didn't know anyone who read poetry then. Now, I've had a few people tell me they love my writings. They have been healing. They have let me scream what I'm feeling at times. I've been surprised, at times by how they've come. [not to mention where & when]
Well... here is another one.
He came
he came
as a child
he who fashioned the stars
was found by 3 men following one
held in the hands he made
given a father
a "step" father
yet being this father's
author, father, maker
placed in a manger
having created the trees felled
to make it
he came
housed in human form
he
who invented time
became born inside it
the only man
who had all the time in the world
-and never wastes a second
the author of the universe
born into the story
he's writing
he came
by choice
the one who sits on the throne of judgement
to be judged
by criminals
killed by people
his mind created
killed by humans
to redeem them
he came to live a life
I'd understand
to die
so I'd know
the value he places
on each human
he came
to suffer once
he came to die
so that one day
we could watch him
bury death
& live
by b.e. noll
[yeah, Mom. this is what I was writing]
communion...
is a surgery
a removal of what will never be missed.
to replace it with
what should always have been.
[removing the temporary
& replacing it with what is eternal.]
2 songs I thought of today.
a young woman mentioned not wanting this season to end
After December Slips away [I love First Call's version best, but couldn't find it]
and from inklings, someone wrote a short poem on the ocean...
Ocean by King's XI don't know why this makes me think of God. I guess I think of the ocean as an idea of how big God's love for me is. How I could be swallowed up in His love... drown in it. To submerge into it so far that I wouldn't even know how to get out. Or which way to try to go to get out....guess I think of that as Ty sings "it is there, to remind me...". I'm not saying what they thought of when they wrote it. I've never asked them.
