i can’t (it’s been awhile)
sometimes i can’t
just hold back tears.
from watching a tv show that pulls at your hearts strings
from hearing a sad or happy story
from watching School of Rock.
yeah i teared up and still do every time the asian keyboardist says
"i’m not cool enough".
sometimes i can’t believe what i see,
when i perfectly understand the meaning surreal.
like your in the movie, but you have no clue what’s happening
and you feel outside yourself.
sometimes i can’t bare to think of all the pain i’ve caused.
to all my old high school friends i promised to stay in contact with,
the words i’ve said out of hate
the lies that flow out easier than admitting the truth.
sometimes i can’t see past myself
i get buried in selfishness.
i make a bed of it,
curl up in the sheets and dream dreams of me.
sometimes i can’t be more content.
like i’m warm, comfortable, loved
when any music i listen to just hitches my heart to itself
and carries it up and down the scales.
and yes, i teared up while writing those last two lines.
cause right now i’m in between.
like i can’t imagine love
jumping in front of a bullet love,
telling the truth all the time love,
asking “how are you?” and actually wanting to hear how nothing is alright.
i know WHAT it is,
i know WHO it was,
but i know i will never be that.
but i’m loved just the same.
i was loved
YESTERDAY as i am
TODAY as i will be
TOMORROW and has always been
and i can’t believe it.
screwing it up EVERY SINGLE TIME.
i heard this weekend that when we see how Holy God is,
then we realize how depraved we are
and then see how big the Cross is.
think that’s where i’m at.
i can’t believe it.
it just is
and that’s where the surreal feeling of it all starts.
like the Scripture actually moves out of the fog
and the words means more than words.
i can’t believe it.
but it just is.
and to the Cross is where i set my eyes.
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever."
the reality of it
we don’t need to inherit the sins of our mothers and fathers.
the guilt of the night before
justifying our actions to numb our conscience
hiding the fact that we are all beautiful just beneath our insecurities.
we are broken
you know it
cause you’ve seen it.
the fragile pieces of our shattered frame are wanted.
we have already been put back together,
fixed to function how we were actually meant to.
its that your dead
i was as well,
until i saw the perfect one
who was shattered for our:
guilt of the night before
justification our actions to numb our conscience
hiding our sins just beneath our insecurities
we were made to love one in three.
and you know it.
cause even though your broken
you feel it.
life is so much more beautiful when your alive.
blah blah blah
through the headphones
music carries everything down and out
through the wires.
head bobs and everything shakes out
beats play leap frogging over lyrical perfectionism
i forget that i’m in my house
with my headphones on.
remember that i was loved tonight
and when i blamed it all on God
and when i took all the credit from God.
spray paint flies through the can’s nozzle
the paint holds my worries and dissipates into the dark
the color stains my hands
and i smile.
i remember when i first knew i was loved
read that people fought spiritual wars for me to be here
my present and future is built on the backs of ones who sacrificed everything
so i smile
smelling the paint
knowing the future is brighter
brighter than the sun that blinds me.
all this from a track
all this from a God who is sovereign
fully righteous and fully lovely.
so i bob my head back and forth
to the next track
and let the music carry me
and i smile.
were, past tense
as in, we used to be.
the message of the Cross is foolishness to those who are persishing
perishing that is.
i’ll right down all the good things i’ve done,
i’ll give me credit for the good things i’ve thought about doing.
like how i almost talked to that bum on the road
but thought “nah he just wants drugs”
i’ll credit my intentions.
put all those deeds in the left column
okay list done.
now write perfection.
in the right column, nice and bold
draw a line between a good deed i’ve done
and where it connects with PERFECTION.
lines start out thinking they’ll make it across
but not one completes the route.
i’ve fallen short,
and my hope is tall that i’ll reach my goal
of losing weight
and tossing off sin
and looking back and saying “LOOK WHAT I’VE DONE GOD!!!
I’VE RESCUED A SOUL, ONE SOUL
MY SOUL, ITS ALL MINE!!!!”
and still my lines never make it across.
a son who has traded his Father’s love
for the siren calls of lovers
who are full of their own holes.
gaps, circles, dark abyss
that spot in your chest that burns
some call it a conscious.
Walt called it jiminy cricket.
i cry like a child
fists into the ground
pouting about how i’m owed everything
and how nothing is my fault.
i saved my soul yesterday
i swear it was clean and needing of nothing.
but i woke up
and i was still me.
seen as dirty, unwanted and hating
the only true love that ever cared enough to come down.
i spat on Him as He walked by carrying my cross.
i slipped on a Centurion suit and forced spikes through his flesh.
i saw Him bleed and did nothing
for my soul was hateful.
i AM loved.
i AM forgiven.
i AM not my own.
for i WAS bought with a price.
we were enemies of PERFECTION
i was a son of hell
i AM redeemed
we ARE offered freedom
His Glorious Exchange
carries my lines of sorrow
and useless attempts
all the way home.
i’ve never killed anything
i’ve never actually killed something or someone
i’ve never taken a life with my bare hands
i mean, i’ve squashed a few bugs, shot some lizards
but nothing sizeable. nothing meaningful
so when You ask me to die i’m not quite sure how that’s supposed to go.
the idea of You living in me & through me is supernatural
and sounds all together wonderful,
but i’m stubborn & i’d like to think i have a handle on things.
i’ve ran this ship for so long that i’m starting to understand these seas.
i know how to handle my guilt,
mash it up with my shame and toss it.
toss it overboard with the other parts of me i hate,
but still, i got this.
i know You died,
Your flesh was torn from your bones,
literally ripped like sheets of paper from a phonebook.
and still i don’t know how to die.
how do i stop something i’ve been doing for so long.
I DON’T WANT THIS EMPTINESS!
there is this hole in my hull that ocean water flows through.
i grasp at ghosts hoping that they fit the form of my gaping wound,
nothing fulfills what it promises.
and yet, You.
like a silent gust from an off distant shore
i can feel the wind pass through my sails.
in my anxious movement i’ve forgotten what peace feels like.
its never overbearing, its never overwhelming.
it whispers when everything is yelling.
i want to
i have to die.
so i’ll lay down my flesh,
unzip it down the back and slip out
soul bare for the world to see
and for the Son of Man to clean.
i have no recourse.
i have nothing to lean on.
You are the everything and the only One
who could pay for me.
this dirty, hardened, calloused soul
wanting nothing to do with Perfection & Love.
dead men cannot call out to the Living.
the God-Man calls unto the lifeless.
i did not know how to kill anything
because i was born into darkness.