Hell

How could I speak of Hell?
That place so monstrous and deep?
A pit of fire? An eternal scream?
It is a place I wish, so often
Did not exist...in this world or the next.

And yet, exist I know it does,
For I have lived it here on earth,
And it is ugly. Ugly to experience
The just wrath of a perfect God
Poured out on his well-deserving creation.

It's the thing that we don't want to think,
Speak, talk or even...write about.
But we must because, it is real and it is there.
Oh horror of all horrors, real terror.
Terror that makes the worst horror film seem...quiet.

We think that terror is...what? Zombies?
Dead who bite and turn you into them?
Vampires were once terrifying but now they're...
So Romantic, we write movies and books about them
Some dream of being them...the eternal dead, alive eternally.

But the truth is, they appeal because they are here...
Living half-lives, the fiction of avoidance.
The Fictional turning away from reality,
Self-preservation from the unruly truths that
We want to keep ourselves protected from.

So we preserve ourselves from the thing we know,
That Hell exists and it, in truth, is terrible.
And yet we know it's real, we see it's echoes everywhere.
We glimpse it for an instant, then it's gone
Dissolved into a faded fiery mist on the outskirts.

You can hear it, in the subtle voice within your mind,
That says..."What if you die? You should die...Kill yourself."
Hell, Hades, Infernus. It speaks to us, even in our dreams.
"Die! You should die." It says. Drawing us ever downward
Into an Abyss of self-pitying doubt, inward, ever inward.

We see it in the woman, left torn and bleeding, alone...
Left by what she thought was love...but was really hatred.
In the man, abandoned by all hope, sitting in his tragic despair
Alone. Unfriended. Without defense or reason to live.
Gehenna, the place of eternal fire. Burning, burning, burning.

But God couldn't...wouldn't...if he's really good then
He would never...would he? Could he? But why? Why?
And we want to lean into our own goodness, in order to
Preserve our own precious life, and by that one effort
We condemn ourselves forever, forgetting forgiveness.

We seek to preserve ourselves but condemn others,
Making forgiveness conditional only to ourselves.
If there is a Hell, God must forgive us, we haven't hurt anyone...
Not really anyway. But him? Her? That person over there who...
Well, maybe, but I'm not as bad as they are...they are terrible. Really.

We want justice to exist on earth, but no in heaven. Not eternally.
Eternal justice offends our sense of propriety, of right and wrong.
But here on earth, we want the justice done. The man to hurt
For how he harmed the broken woman, bleeding on the ground.
To pay for the child, robbed of innocence too young. Justice.

Justice for the man, attacked and beaten, bruised and broken.
For innocent blood spilled onto dying ground. We want it then...
But when we die? How could we want it when we die? That would mean...
It would never end, once sown, on and on it would go....without escape.
In never-ending waves and throng on throng would fall....unthinkable.

So we turn away from the just God, whose hand is held out to
Pull us up to Heaven, if we will only take that hand held out.
The hand that is the pure, unblemished, Holy Son of God, who died in agony,
Bleeding through the many wounds of crucifixion. Crying out,
Forsaken by perfect love for that moment of immeasurable agony.

But we want our lives to be our own, and so we turn away.
Turn to an eternal grave for the sake of a few short moments in time.
Rejecting the sacrifice of agony and pain, for the sake of ourselves...
Condemning ourselves for all time...because we can...because we simply
Want to live our lives ourselves, for ourselves, forsaking perfect justice already fulfilled.

Instead, we walk through year-by-year lived just for us alone. Rejecting God.
Backs turned, we live a lie. A lie we don't even really believe.
That truth is not true or real or right or even there. But that we make our own
Reality from a fictional world existing only in our minds. And when we are jolted
Out of our own sense of self-importance by the reality of horrific acts of sin...

We shake our heads and bury them in the sand of self-justification.
And still, God reaches down his hand, called Christ. And the Spirit of God
Goes out from one end of the world to the other, calling, ever calling.
To those who will come and be saved. To come to Grace and stand with God,
And watch the burdens of their own reliance and disgrace, melt into the eternal
Love of a righteous, holy, just and angry God.

Value

My child, your value is written
In every fiber of your being.
In every cell, in every portion of who you are.
From the ends of your hair to the toes on your feet.

From your physical body, to the soul within,
Your personhood, screams of a greater being.
Because your value is not in what you have done,
It is not in what you will do, not in what you will accomplish.

It is not something that anyone or anything can ever,
Take away from you, change or destroy.
It is a value that has existed since before the dawn of time.
From eternity past to eternity future, your value has always been.

Because your value comes from being made,
Created, formed, shaped, by a powerful God.
A loving God. A God of grace and truth.
And not just made by him, you are made IN HIS IMAGE.

Created by a loving, true and faithful God
You have, to quote an excellent book,
Dignity, you have value, and you have worth,
And no one, no matter how hard they try, can take that away.

And not only at creation, when God fashioned the world,
In whatever means he chose to fashion it by, was your value
Established. But it was established once again, at a time
When the greatest man who ever lived was killed...

Because he died to bring you back to him.
Back to the God who loved you so well. Child, he wanted
You to be back in touch with him. Because, you see,
Sin had entered the world, rebellion and betrayal.

Because our first parents chose to disdain and push God away,
Because they wanted to be like God, his equal, not his children.
They abandoned his rule and reign, and chose their own way over his,
Spitting in the face of the one who had lovingly made them.

So he made a plan, a plan so huge and wonderful and incredible,
That it could only have been made by a perfect, wise, holy and true God.
He and his Son and the Holy Spirit, hatched a plan to win their children,
Their creation back. And it was an unbelievable plan, spanning generations.

And one day, Jesus stepped down to earth and became a baby,
And he lived perfectly and loved perfectly and was perfectly human.
Until the day he died a horrific and tragically painful death, to bring
Us back to him. And that is where your value lies. Upon the cross.

You are valuable, not because of what you have done or contributed to the world,
Not because of what you will do or will contribute to the world.
Not because of how beautiful you are, or how smart you are, or how good you are.
You are valuable because God chose to make you in his image and likeness,

And you are valuable because of God's Son, the Lord and Savior, God and King,
Jesus Christ. Because of the price that he was willing to pay to win you back.
You see, the value he put on you, is the value that you have...his own life.
Not because you deserve it, not because you earned it. But because he decided
That you were worth it. So he paid the price for you, so you could know him.
That's where your value lies. In the bloodied, tortured, ruined body, of Jesus Christ,
The man who was God. The man who is God. The man who rose to make the way before you.

The clothes you wear, the popularity you do or do not have, the romance that you find
Do not tell the tale of the value that you own. If you are human, you are valued.
If you are human, you are of great worth. You are an expression to the world of
The great and magnificent God who created all things.
And your worth cannot be measured by human means.

Redemption

I wrote this poem recently, while participating in Redemption Groups at my church. It's about an on-going struggle I've been having with depression and how God has been showing up and revealing Himself to me in the midst of it. It's about the ongoing work of the redemptive grace of God that I have been experiencing. I started writing this poem back in Februrary, not long after I began attending Redemption group, and I finished it at the end of March/beginning of April.

My Psalm of Redemption

In an agony of fear, I sit    

And wonder where you are.

And in my pain I long for death

To free me from here and now.

I forget my God who loves me,

Blind to my Father’s face so dear,

As the tally of my sins compound

And the enemy’s voice draws near.

            “You are unworthy, and so worthless,

            How could a perfect God

            Ever love a soul so wretched,

            So hopeless and so vile.”

And waves of sin and hopelessness

Flood my heart and soul.

And death rises up and seems so sweet

And lies surround me now.

Tormented as with fire,

My shredded soul cries out,

For God has reached his hand to me

And drawn me to his heart.

He answers me so tenderly,

His Father-voice is kind:

“You are mine my daughter,

My son gave his life for you.”

            “My love for you is perfect

            My love for you is true.

            My love for you has always been,

            I never will leave you.”

And yet the fear still pulls at me

And lies encamp me round.

I yearn to trust my God so dear,

But fears my thoughts confound.

In the tension of the moment

I break like a porcelain doll.

And the fragments lie in God’s

Own hands for him to heal them all. 

Heal me, oh God heal me,

As can only be done by you!

For you alone are perfect,

And you alone are true.

I will trust in you forever

Though pain and fear I face.

As your spirit leads me onward

In the power of your grace.

I need you, how I need you,

For I know I must forgive.

And how costly it all seems to me

To release my fears and live.

For fear has been my idol,

And fear has been my faith.

For if I know how to be fearful

Can I not protect my place?

But that protection leads me nowhere,

Except to hide me from the truth.

That fear is never needed

By a soul at rest in you.

In sorrow and in sadness

I see my true sin now.

As I tried to guard myself from harm,

I turned from you somehow.

And even as I see it, in kindness

You reply. By showing me

Your hand so dear

Has always captured mine.

And looking back I see the steps

When, altogether unaware,

You took my hand and led my feet

To where my Savior stands.

And looking out, half fearful,

As through a tunnel see small lights.

And a change begins, though slowly,

Viewed through tear-filled eyes.

So now I must face the anguish,

Where before I ran to hide,

And I know that I can trust you,

Though the thought it terrifies.

Please open up my hands oh God,

Please hold me close tonight,

Please give me time to face the pain,

And trust in you for life.

Yet still I stand half-turned

From you and feel a weighty shame.

As sins, both mine and others,

Crush me with their blame.

The weight is more than I can bear,

Christ bore it on the cross.

My Father holds his hand to me

And I know now, I’m not lost.

“Come meet with me my daughter,

Sit now and rest a while.” He calls.

I long to answer, and, shrinking, slowly turn,

And as I look into his face…

            …I fall into his hands.

And suddenly, I realize,

I am standing on the brink,

Of really, truly trusting him,

The past will not make me sink.

And wounded though I may be,

I see a spot of hope…

Where life and light are intertwined

And faith has now begun to shine,

And even though things are not right

He meets me where I am tonight.

The girls are quiet,

My husband sleeps.

And I prepare to take the leap.

Along with Christ, embrace the pain,

And in his arms, a broken thing,

I, weeping, find peace once again.

A Poem for Audrey

Tiny hands with fingers long,
Touch my face and bring a song.
Tiny mouth with sweet pea hue,
Smile at mommy, bringing dew.

Oh how the fear of God comes now!
For I am given a task so great,
To teach you to love, so you may bow
Before the God, who did all create.

Oh little child, oh daughter mine,
I long to have you love the Sublime.
I fear that I have no power to prove,
Then I remember God must move.

I must only teach and wait,
TO show his love and kindness great.

So on my knees I yearn and beg,
"Oh God, let this dear heart instead,
Turn and make you known to her,
This darling child, let this occur."

"Oh God," I plead, "Dear God."
I cry to him that hears each sigh.
"Oh please, my dearest father Lord,
Let it be said and it be known,
Help me to teach her to understand,
The workings of your mighty hand."

And God, he listens, and God, he cares,
And in my heart his peace is there.
And one day, I hope he'll let her know,
And by his grace the seed we'll sow,
The truth of Christ. Oh little heart!
The sweetest work of living art.

A Poem for My Daughter

Darling daughter with softest skin
Dimpled in knee and fist and chin,
With delicate pink your two lips glow
With rosy hue that blossoms and grows.

Your father and I look on you now
With joy only fearful thanks can allow.
To us is given your care for time,
Commissioned to raise you to know the Sublime.

King of kings and Lord of Lords
The God and Father
As the Spirit Shows.

And how will we carry this fearsome task?
With a trepidation that holds us fast.
By the power of Grace from the Spirit given,
And the sacrifice of him whose life was forsaken.

Forsaken to give us the power to Love,
A daughter so sweet, sent to us from above.
God's grace is evident even as I write,
As your daddy looks on you with tender might.

From the: King of kings and Lord of Lords
And the God and Father
As the Spirit shows.

As I ready for sleep I kneel and pray,
"Oh God, let my daughter love you even today!"
May she follow your word and love your Son,
That great faith may through many generations run.

Protect her, Lord, keep her safe I pray,
But more than all that may she "trust and obey."'
Trust in your Son for Salvation from Sin,
Obey you forever with freedom in Him.

King of Kings and Lord of Lords,
God and Father, as the Spirit Shows.

Oh God, how I long to see her safe and at rest
But more than all this that she give you her best.
Make her life a reflection of your Holy Son.
May her life for you finish with the words: "Oh well done!"

Help us to teach her your glorious Love,
And help us to mirror true faith from above.
This task is too great for us to carry alone,
Guide us in Grace oh Great God that we own.

Our Great King of kings and Lord of Lords,
Lamb of God upon the Throne.
Father in Heaven, our Eternal Joy.
Spirit who turns all our sorrow to Joy.

Portland

Every evening as the sun sets over the rivers,
I hear the shopping carts rattle past,
Rattle, clink, rattle, clink, rattle, clink,
Shopping carts full of glass bottles
Going down the street, 
Finding a place to sleep.

In the morning, back they go,
Rattle, clink, rattle, clink, rattle, clink,
Over to Fred Meyer. Recycling.

Rattle Clink, Rattle Clink, Rattle Clink!
Rattle Clink, Rattle Clink, RATTLE CLINK!

And the city cries out in pain every night,
"I am myself!" it says, "I am unique"
"Let Me be ME." It cries with a
Voice of anguish, not knowing
What self means or who self is.

The cry is heard from the Barista
Who stands behind the counter.
And the waiter, who brings the beer.
From the woman at the check out
And the man who lives downstairs.
And the pain is real, intense, and hard,
Because all the time they cry out
"Let me be me." They are really asking,
"Who Am I?" And the question
Is
Still
Not Answered.....

Where the World Began

I want to know
Where the world began,
And what is in the tides.

I want to know
Why the song bird cries,
At the breaking of dawn's light.

Is there a place
Where the world was made,
When was it at first alive?

There is but One who
Can tell us true, when the world
Was made Alive, and
He Alone can let us know
When the light first shown
On the ocean's tides...

For He alone was there,
When the world was given life,
And He alone, the Three in One,
The God who made all life,
Began all things in days long past,
And breathed us into life.