image_pdfimage_print

To Be Known

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!

Barabbas

Can you believe it? I’m free! After months of chains, the stench of the prison, the hopelessness of my existence—I’m free!

I waited for the guards to call my name and to lead me to the Place of the Skull. They arrested me, chained me, and sentenced me to die. I heard the crowds scream out my name. My heart pounded. I knew that this was the day. The day I would experience the torture I deserved. This was the day that I would gasp my final breath.

The punishment would soon follow. I heard them screaming, “Barabbas! Barabbas!” Their voices echoed all the way down into the depths of that dark cell where I had been chained. Then silence. I heard the voice of Pilate shouting to the people, but not loud enough for me to understand. Then I heard the mob scream out, “Crucify Him!”

And then within a few minutes I heard the guards walking down into that musty cell where I was. They opened the doors and broke the chains.

“You are free” They said. “Free? What do you mean?” I asked.

“You have been set free. Someone has taken your place.”

What is His name? The one who takes my place. What is His name? Why? Someone took my place on that cross. I must know His name. Do you know Him? This man who is dying on the hill for me, do you know His name?

I Wrestle NOT

I have a confession to make. Love really hurts these days. It all began when my 14 year old got MMA lessons for his birthday. Often I come through the door of the house and somewhere lurking in the shadows is a 140 pound guy with the body fat of a coat hanger who will bring me into submission.  This was fun when he didn’t know Brazilian Jujitsu.  Continue reading “I Wrestle NOT”

Mary’s Boy

Jesus
creator
King of every king
and yet this was Mary’s boy.
blood spilled grace on me
and still Mary’s boy
piercing your heart Mary
to save me
forsaking you
and his kingdom
for me.
What a terrible loss
you suffered
to watch this one you feed, changed, embraced
carried, protected, and nourished
now condemned to bear nails and thones
whips and shame
so that we could all come to the table.
and face the Gethsemane of every broken generation
he cried for his Daddy as the sunset brought shadows
on the edge of town.
You had others
but that night He was your only Boy.