flesh and blood do not make man
he is wildly and ever alive
never ambivalent or fleeting when fire and flood collide.
Man bids farewell to the shifting steps of boyhood. 
His ancient blood leads him not into abundant whims and brief adulation
but a man is daring in times of sudden catastrophic overture
he rarely counts the costs of self
he knows the greater portion of history
in seconds of dooming fate
a man strikes hard– the perilous tide
never recoiling, rarely denied
he is the forest of will and hope of humanity.
he looks to truth not voluminous data.
he fights darkness not deep introspection 
He is far more than the cunning seeking harlots
Man is alive within himself 
standing, fists clinched against injustice
he strides toward the catastrophe of the fallen
He is often alone
away from the raging masses
and the scent of the cruel and houses of inebriation
sober and kind
slow in speech and purposefully incited by God.
Ah, this is man!
clarity is his cloth and virtue his mantle
earthen counsel judges him and finds him to be a perplexing steward
tending the gates of covenant like a holy bandit
guarding his truth war-like and primeval.
He expels the treacherous and will raise high the roof beams of his salvation
Man holds secrets and yet never speaks double of anyone
his voice clear and strong, never waivers
and yet he grows and learns, repents and repairs
Ah, this is man!
from dust to sudden pearly triumph his power encompasses the span of a beating heart 
he is the worshiper, the tremulous one who gains newness every morning bright or dreary.
He is never more a man than when he says no with yeses all around.
he is never more triumphant than when he is captured by the holy passions of life.
Ah, this is man!
Not a lusting lunatic compelled to fantastic never-wills.
Man is much more than male
more than job, or dream, or pastime. 
He is reborn on the backside of deserts
adorned in camelskin and water
He sings in prisons.
He whirls the deathstone at gawking giants
He hammers out a new beginning before deluge and dawn
He will not bow to king
He will not seek recognition
He refuses the lures of his great lasting hunger when better fare is beyond him.
He crushes stones and slaughters lions
He mocks the false gods of the mainstream
He falls and rises.
He conquers and restores
He can be beaten, harassed, bloodied, and mocked
But he will never refuse the call to adventure
Ah this is Man!

There is a comfort of grace, in discovering that He knows it all and remains.

He sees through our well-scripted liturgies, our intricate facades and discovers the child hiding inside us. When we realize that He sees all the details– the real us and loves us still, life, perhaps for the first time, becomes real. Only God could see it all and remain faithful to us. I’ve spent most of my life trying to hide the ugliness of shame and promote the achievements, acknowledgments, and the awards of my life. Really, it is madness and idolatry. He is most glorified in our weakness. When we cast light on our weakness, God says, “This is the work I did. My body and blood redeemed this also.” It would be easy for God to redeem that which is already good. BUT He is glorified greatly when He transforms the wretched. Today, may we share our struggles with each other and discover Christ’s stubborn, unfailing love for vagabonds and misfits.

There is a mysterious peace when you have been left with only Jesus.
when there is desolation and pain—
when the burden is greater than you thought you could bear—
when the darkness gathers around you—
even after goodbyes are said—
He is the faithful friend who is ever beside you when all others forsake you. He is above every present sorrow and every personal struggle. He, too, has walked the paths of brokenness. He, too, has stood beside graves. He, too, was betrayed and conspired against. You share commonality and kinship with the author of the universe.

He placed His mark on you. He claimed you as His own. He looked through the crowd. He found you and said, “This struggling child is mine.” He is enough to fill your empty cup and to calm the storm within. He can be heard if you allow Him into your silence. He can be seen in the sunset of each dying day. Closer, He will be to you—Pulling you closer into His grace… With every struggling moment, when you desire Him more than the fallen world’s rotting junkyard of futile aspirations and empty pleasure– He will be more than what you imagined He could be. And you would have never known the depth of His love so deeply if you had never suffered so greatly.

I don’t know your journey. But as for me, I needed radical salvation. I needed a Warrior that could battle through the jungles of flesh. I needed a Savior who would run through the firestorms of catastrophic thoughts. One who would withstand the galloping wildebeests of my vain ambition. One who would swim the channels of my stormy seas and into the cavernous passages of ancient strongholds and shame. I needed one to climb over the perilous heights of my doubts. I needed that kind of hero. In you, he may have found a much gentler passage. But mine was and is a profound redemption. And right now He is fighting for a million others as He fought for me—Our hearts… His prize…

There is so much more to You
The ways of mystery and hiddenness
The pain of testing like the threshing of the wheat.
The crowning of each day with the setting sun
The movement of the wind
The waves of sea
And yet the greatest joy of my life
Worthless as I so often am
is this:
You know me
Every part of me
The emptiness in heart of me.
And I am face down in wonder
Put together
Torn asunder
Even when I lose my own identity
You find me, the one I’m meant to be
This is all I ever hope to be
O to be known by Thee!

His love is perfect.
It never fails me.
His love knows no limit, no barrier, no faltering weakness
His love is for me.
Wrapped in grace and tied together in time.
Hidden, a treasure worth more than any riches on earth.
Promised before my birth.
It consumes me
His love is every bit of what I need today.
It redeems my yesterday
My confidence for tomorrow
His love is infinitely abundant
It floods my world with hope.
It brings laughter when I should be paralyzed in fear
And when I weep He collects every tear.
His love is near.
So intimately connected, this love is.
Even in days that I feel rejected
Emotions neglected
His love assures me I am accepted.
My course is corrected
His love will carry me through
His vow is sacred
His word is true.
His love is all I need.
He makes all things new.

It’s Monday evening. The chaos and collision of grace and law appeared in the violent light of day. Those who sought to turn worship into a business met the displeasure of the only One worthy of worship. The crash of coins and cages… Today the Son of Man personified the voice of the ancient prophetic song: “Away with your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me. Away with them!” Guards, numerous and powerful failed to arrest Him before a host of witnesses. What army could lay a hand on the Creator of galaxies? This was not His day to die. There was bread to be broken, assurances to be offered, and it was only Monday. The government would soon be on His shoulders- as would the weight of my sin. This would happen soon but not today.

It’s Monday evening.

It’s Sunday evening. The road is scattered with green branches quickly turning brown, trampled by a festival of triumph. The darkness settles in as shadows fall on the city sky. It seems as if the shouts still echo through its gates. His feet drenched in alabaster and tears. He begins his walk toward the torment of a world’s curse. Mary senses things only a mother could feel. The week begins. Jesus weeping alone. No one else was less deserving of Friday. But in a transcendent, eternal sense there was no one else in the history of the universe qualified for Friday. A deep and unfathomable dichotomy of grace and truth, joy and sorrow, pain and bliss. It’s Sunday evening.

Preaching at a Bougere Baptist Church this morning.  Should be an adventure. Probably very small. Thankful for the opportunity to share on Palm Sunday. This will perhaps be my first Easter next week that I won’t be preaching. Darlene will return after an interview tomorrow. Caleb is drumming at Alpine today.  I’m going to try to get the house finished tomorrow. I had a good time at Melinda and Wes last night. Came home and went straight to bed.