Made Something So Small

I'm barely a man, and in no way am I ready for this. What Earthly wisdom, skills and crafts can I teach this child of my king.  My God. What if I raise my hand in anger?  Will he strike back with the power of a thousand rushing seas?  If I don't spare the rod, will he spare me for the pain I cause him?  How can I ever seek to tell him he did something wrong; will he ever anything wrong? Will he anger?  Will his eyes burn with the heat of Elijah's burning chariot?  Will I succumb to the awe and majesty of the tender flesh, falling to my knees, a weak and trembling father bowing before his rightful ruler? Whose Child is this?  I took no part in the creation of his flesh, but my words and actions will imprint upon his mind and hands.  I can teach him how to build cabinets and crosses, but I have no hope to teach him how to rule nations or create worlds.  My life, my thoughts, my bride and all that is mine will be shadowed by the knowledge that this one child will change the world. People will write books about him, live their lives for him, devote themselves to him.  And I?  I am just a carpenter. Even the shepherds know to worship him.  How, how will I raise this newborn son? There is a time in everyone's life when they must rise above themselves.  Find that they are destined for something beyond this flesh and bone.  We think so highly of ourselves, hoping to connect with God and the angels, hoping for some supernatural response to our devotion and ritual.  And yet... Here he is. In flesh in bone.  Something beyond, made something so small, so weak, so frail. And I - I have been tasked with wiping his nose, holding his arms as he walks, and handing him his first hammer.  I must provide the mundane neccessities like food, shelter and warmth.  And he - he must change the world. What child is this?  The babe, the son of Mary?
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Considering Psalm 142

I complain. I moan, groan and embrace my pride with words of discontent as I forget the blessings and honor heaped upon me.  I do this to foreshadow my true prayer, in hopes that it might persuade an all-knowing and all-powerful God to look up with pity, favoring that human emotion I know so well instead of simply letting Him love me. Only after I show how weak, troubled, broken, defeated and depressingly human I am do I tell him my true troubles.  And yet... He loves me. Whe I feel lost and ruined you lift up my chin, and you set my eyes to truth. And even in that truth, I find despair!  Oh!  The cruelty!  People are against me!  People want to harm me!  All around is lies and pain!  I see no safety. Until I cry to You.   Listen, please.  Let me be foolish and in pain.  And then, please, set me free so I can love your truth. Then, then I can bless You and be blessed.
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the light?

I am the light, am I the light? You died, right?  I've heard it before, about the crown of thorns you wore, the beatings you took and the slurs and I heard the only one crying was a whore. If you ask me - and I know you didn't - but that's not the way to die... for a king to die.  So were you planning to die this way or is it untrue? I am the light is what you said; you died, you rose is what I read.  Your death had no frankencense, myrrh or gold. I would prefer a hero's death instead. I am the light, am I the light? I cannot match the way you lived.  I already know I'll do more wrong than what's right and I know you will ask for more than I will give. So I hear that you were sinless.  But I am so full of sin.  Bless me my Father, fo I cannot be half of what you want for me. Dress me in your light, your grace giving light.  God I want to be living.  I am tired of this body, so full of sin and dust.  Please Lord, by my king. And if I follow you and live in your ways - I will try to give my life away.  I want to be free but we both know how much you will have to forgive. I am the light, am I the light?
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i haven't listened either

be my rest help me to sleep tonight tell me tomorrow comes and it will be alright be my rest be my friend i need to know i'm loved a friend who always cares a friend from far above be my friend do you listen for my voice like i listen for your voice? i haven't heard it in years i haven't listened either do you listen for my voice? be my Lord punish me if i need it or send grace if you can once more i might commit be my lord be my love embrace me like a bride remind me of passion and rapture me inside be my love do you listen for my voice like i listen for your voice? i haven't heard it in years i haven't listened either do you listen for my voice?
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Less Than an Animal

Am I somehow less than an animal, A donkey, perhaps, pushing against a wall? Failing to turn around, scared of what it sees What my human eyes don't see at all? I do not feel the heat of some flaming sword Nor a dizzying rush of light No conversations with some etherial face Whose name is some unknowable word.  I heard that there are angels all around I was told they're in this very room. But God, my sweet wisest god of all gods, Will I hear them if I don't make any sound? Will I get to say thank you To some invisible hero that saved my life Or will they still be too holy for me to see Even when I'm just a spirit too? I heard there are angels all around I was told they're in this very room. But God, my sweet mystery of all gods, Why don't they make any sound?
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and again

I will kill You I will kill You and You will still love Me I will weigh on your lungs the pressure of my pressence drawing out your last breaths I am the maggot crawling on your open wounds your arms nailed down you cannot swipe me away i feast on your blood and pain my life existing from your death i live only because your death will sustain me I will kill You I will kill You and You will still love Me and your blood will be spilt in some other place across all time my feet, my hands, my whole bruised body bathing in it's righteous glory i will cause your pain i will be your disappointment i won't be good enough and then i'll mess up again and then, as i am told to leave as i am told i ruined my chance at paradise you will rise up, bloodied weak, and in all likelyhood weary you will rise up and say that i am one of yours and you will lie on an alter and die again for me I have killed You and I have killed You and I have kiilled You again
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In Response to Psalm 87

Was I born of Zion?
Am I some lost traveller,
Struggling to climb rocks
Stumbling towards her beautiful gates?

God, You love Zion
But is that where I'm from?
How do you know me?
How do I know me?

The singers sing of Zion
The dancers dance about her gates
But I'm stuck in mud
Stuck low in this valley

Where does my history go?
Can I trace it to Rahab?
To Tyre or Cush?
You favor Zion
Do you favor me?

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Wildflowers

I am not worried I am not worried I am not worried Though I am naked And the heat seems unholy The temperature’s rising But I am not worried No I am not worried And the wind is blowing The ground softened The rain is beating But I am not worried No, not worried. I have no shelter From this heavy storm No voice to sing with But I have no worries No worries, anymore God has dressed me God has fed me Made me who I am I have no worries, I am not worried
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lament of personal exile (Psalm 137)

in the silence of my heart there I sat down and wept and remembered Zion but i have cast off my hopes and hung them far too high i cannot reach them but the world wants a happy face the world wants me singing the world wants my soul silenced how can i sing? if i don't sing for You may my voice crack and stumble if i don't smile for You may my lips crack and crumble if i don't remember You may my mind falter and fumble and remember me, oh Lord as You destroy my insecurities and smile for me, oh Lord as You break my hardened heart and i will sing for You with moist lips and a thoughtful mind
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i don't deserve this

you you danced in her hair. playing with her, a mysterious two-step bob as it swayed in the wind. you shone down on it, shimmering, my eye catching her beauty. you danced there, waiting to be seen. and you you shone in her eyes. you gazed out into the world staring me down, challenging me that she was the one. you dialated the pupils to her soul so i could look beyond the flesh and look right in her body and see you. you shone there, waiting to be seen. i don't deserve this where did i go so right? i don't deserve this to hold her here tonight i don't deserve this it was you. you spoke in her breath. whispering inaudible whispers. (i know you come in whispers). wooing me with sweet nothings like lines from some shakespearian tragedy. your notes sprang forth from her lips, hung in the air, then rested in my skull, resonating the sound of beauty. you spoke there, waiting for me hear. i dont deserve this where did i go so right? i don't deserve this to hold her here tonight i don't deserve this you made the sun and the sky and the ground bow down and fade all away. she was the only face i saw the only voice i heard the only thing i knew that day. she spoke your truth, your love, i changed that day and you, you planned it all that way. you made the sun and the sky and ground fade away she was the only one i saw that day. where did i go so right? i'm holding her tonight where did i go so right? so right so right so right..?
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it weighs heavy

it weighs heavy don't you understand that just because you want me to talk to you it doesn't mean i can talk to you and just because I want to talk to you that doesn't meant I can talk to you it weighs heavy i want you to be prideful, less wreckless with grace. i want you to punish me because your grace is so much more than i can take. i feel like i keep insulting you more just to find out that you love me more. i slap your cheek then spit in your face then stab your eyes but you just open your arms welcoming me. how can you be so full of love that you forgive my knowing, planned curses? it weighs heavy don't you understand all the wrong things i've done outweigh all the good shouldn't that mean i can't talk to you and even if you've chosen to forgive me how can i come close enough to talk to you? it weight heavy maybe i'm just mad at you. maybe i just want you to lash out and smite someone, somewhere. you give grace to murderers and molesters, so full of grace that you give them the chance to ask forgiveness. but in waiting it hurts us and lives end and humanity seems defiled. i just want to see you mad, some righteous anger turning over tables. i want to know there's a limit so i can run away from it. i want to stop but how can i stop when you keep letting me pile sins on you? it weighs heavy don't you understand that just because you want me to talk to you it doesn't mean i can talk to you and just because I want to talk to you that doesn't meant I can talk to you i'm so full of pride you're so full of grace i can't talk to you i can't show my face God, i hate my face
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Devourer

You devour my shame and guilt You devour my stench and eat my guile. Though I curse you and forget Your pure, bright name, you devour me. My blood quickens in the pule of darkness but you delight in devouring my cold, calloused heart. I wrestle not with angels, not even with demons, but with insecurites and misunderstandings, walking – no running – into the black disenchanted woods scared that someone might see my frail soul as it seeks satisfaction. And there, in the cold solitude of sin you devour me. You devour my shame and guilt You devour my stench and eat my guile. I lick up the remains of my brother's gnawed flesh, thinking I may gain some unholy power of persuation over him by belittling his innermost struggles. And so, you devour my dark soul. I stitch my wounds before cleansingmyself, keeping the infection hidden until the puss and blood seep through my clothes leaving an unavoidable obvious and blatant stain. Yet you eat of my body, cursed and wretched as it may be; You offer me your body as a feast. And there, in my gnashing of teeth on your tender flesh You devour my shame and guilt You devour my stench and eat my guile. And in selfish pride I look down on those who eat of You, pity them. I binge and purge on your offerings, pretending to eat of meat but expelling it to gorge on curdled milk from a seductive, imprisoned bovine. I close my eyes, scared that I might see you in light and be found naked and wanting. Afraid that you might devour this fake self I work so hard to wallow in. I run from your blood, for a dark tan is more pleasing than a milky white pruning of the epidermis. Halleluia, Your blood devours me Halleluia, Your blood devours me You devour my world You devour my world
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The Mark

Oh God, please help me, Today I'd take the mark. I thought I'd be better I thought I loved your wife when I'd met her My love turned to pain, my pain to hate My God my God, what's to be my fate? It's just too much to swallow Lip service just makes one feel so hollow I know You're out there somewhere But it just seems like no one cares So sorry for being doubtful And sorry for being so weak Stop yelling and telling I know that I'm wrong But I can't stand your holy soeak So God please please help me 'Cause today I'd take the mark I thought I'd be strong Maybe I'll choose the world I never thought I'd come to this Oh God please help me Today I'd take the mark.
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A Beautiful Scene

And you're smiling at me, But I can't smile at you And it seems that you love me Even with all that I do, And I don't know what to do I don't know what to do A beautiful scene A storybook romance You're so forgiving Of my total distance A courtship so true That I don't know what to do I don't know what to do So please keep smiling at me And then I'll blush just for you And I want you to hold me While I think of what to do I don't know what to do Why don't I know? Why don't I know? After all we've been through? Why don't I know what to do?
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