Beauty of You

When I look upon the beauty of You
My heart is overwhelmed with the wonders of Your love
My spirit delights in You,
for You are my Hope and my Joy.


You bring peace in the battle
and heal me from my iniquities.
I am in awe of Your majesty.


Such a perfect image
A divine Jesus with no faults,
You are the definition of holy.
Your righteousness is a light to my dark path,
I find safety in the shadow of your wings.


You are beautiful, Lord
The holes in your hands where you were pierced on the day of your crucifixion,
Your mouth that proclaims words of hope to all men on the earth,
Your eyes that see the broken and lost in the world,
And your hands that give graciously to the needy and help the impoverished.


Although pictures depict You as a Jewish man
Dirt stains on Your face,
A nestle of thorns binding Your thick brown hair
And teardrops filling Your eyes,
It is only a mere representation of Your time on Earth.


You are the purest and most Holy One,
You wash away all my sins
and hold me close.
I cannot wait to kneel at Your throne when the day comes!


How amazing are you, Lord
Let showers of grace rain down
every time I gaze upon your beauty.
Give me a new glimpse of Your kingdom,
and let me rest in the freedom of your love. Amen.


[1/23/2011]

Masterpiece

Discouragement is something that always seems to creep itself into the cracks of my mind. A huge part of discouragement, at least for me, is the feeling of loneliness and feeling unloved. This is a poem I wrote to counter the attacks of discouragement. Because God is so in love with me, and desires an intimate relationship with me. I can't forget this, no matter how much the enemy tries to lie to me.

Come away with me, my daughter

My beloved child

cradle yourself in my loving arms

You are loved.

You are worth more

than gold and silver

and treasures kept by men.

You are more beautiful

than the lilies in the field

and the snow-topped mountains on the horizon.

You are my creation

Created in the palms of my hand

from the dust of the earth.

I formed you out of nothing

into something beautiful.

Something so unique and precious

that you are one-of-kind.

No one can replace you

no one can compare to the beauty of your image.

I love every piece of you

every mistake and every failure,

every gift and every good thing,

you are the breathtaking result of my handiwork.

Nothing can change that.

I am your Father

and you, my child

are my masterpiece.

[11/1/11]

Prodigal Son

As I sat in the mess of blankets on my bed last night, I took out my journal and pencil and began scribbling a poem. It turned out to be something totally different than I had imagined when I began writing. The idea in my head originally was to map out a poem that followed the journey of a believer on their drifting away from Christ, and the road back to the cross. But instead, it follow the journey of a believer and the thoughts and feelings after they turn their back on God. I don't know if I wrote it "right", and it's only a rough draft, but I just wanted to share it with you. Feel free to comment and post suggestions.

I walk through this valley
Satan's voice tempting me at every corner.
I am derailed from life's path,
and the world caves in all around me.
The sex
the drugs
the drinking
are all my new refuges.


I have become one of "them".
The ones Christians point out on the street as wretched and lost,
the ones who party because they have nowhere else to hide their sin.


I am a hypocrite.
I have become a rotten soul
not worth dying for.
You cannot convince me of anything,
not a hope,
a faith,
or a love.
It doesn't matter what 1 Corinthians 13 says.
I am unworthy of Christ's love.


But what about Paul the Apostle, you say?
What about Rahab?
What about the prodigal son?
I have wandered afar.
So far,
that I have become spiritually broken.
My soul is not satisfied
with the things I consume it with.
I am desperate for more.

So why don't you show me that?
Why don't you spare me a quarter so I can buy something to eat?
Why don't you see the hurt in my eyes and pull me away from the guy with his arms all over me?
Why don't you look at my ugly, scarred, dirty face, but at the well-dressed businessman?

I am no one to you.
Yet your gospel preaches that you are to
"love your neighbor as yourself" and
"feed the broken".
I don't see that.
So how can I believe your message?


[10/29/2011]