Dirty Feet

“When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”

-John 13:12-1

The mirror before me reflects a tired, wearied man; a man who knows his shortcomings and failures only all to well. Beneath the fleshy exterior lies a sinful soul that houses a hardened heart. The reflection grimaces as he realizes that he has failed yet again, he has done that which he promised he would not. He finds that his feet are thick with dirt; he has walked in places he shouldn’t. No matter how hard he scrubs, the filth remains securely fastened to his feet. He begins to find himself tripping more and more as the mud continues to build. His walk has been hindered, his movement is sluggish. The immense weight of a marred past begins to press heavily upon his face- memories of past failures, wrong choices, and frivolous fancies. As his brow furrows he parts his lips as if to speak. In the end I’m startled to find that it is my own voice that softly utters the word, “Why?”

Yes, this is the question that we, as sinners, ask ourselves when the weighty realization of our utterly decrepit nature takes on very real meaning. Why, as a Christian, do we fall when we have already been given directions to our final destination? Why do we wander when the path has been so clearly marked with the crimson blood of a murdered Savior? Why do we continue to allow sin to run rampant in our lives without checks and balances? Why do we preach one thing and live another? Why do we entertain sinful thoughts for even a fleeting moment?

The reflection in the mirror stirs and my vision begins to blur. I can see that he is crying; I am crying. Tears give way to wet paths that run down the tattered cheeks of a sinful man. He smiles weekly as yet another realization completely overcomes him. The room feels as if it has been turned upside down and a cooling calm begins to spread over me. I look down to see a Savior washing my dirty feet. My protests are met with calm rebukes as all my misgivings, screw ups, and failures vanish without a trace. I find a humbled man in the mirror before me; a man who realizes that there is no human rhyme or reason to the action that just took place. It is a concept greater than humanity- God’s mercy and love to a people who no longer remember the definition of perfection.

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ- we serve such a wonderful Lord! Though we fail time and time again, God is always there for us. We must always realize that his death and resurrection is a finished work. He has already washed our feet- our sins are forgiven. We should not become entranced by our sinful reflection or the lives we have left behind. Let us always run to Christ in our dark times and embrace the forgiveness that he has so graciously provided us with. Our sin is a very REAL thing my friends, it is not a vague concept. We are sinners, we do mess things up, but God is also real. He is perfect, and he has chosen to provide a means of sanctification to his children that he loves! May others see Christ’s love and forgiveness in our own lives this day and as we live genuine, thankful lives to and for him. Praise God for a Savior who is not above washing our dirty feet.

Love’s as Warm as Tears

I love poetry. I especially love poetry that touches on and fleshes out a human emotion that is seemingly indescribable. I was going through a book of compiled poetry yesterday by C.S. Lewis and came across a piece that did just that. How does one seek to describe love to another? It is so many things- romantic, brotherly, compassionate, intimate, external, prideful, sorrowful… where do you even start?

After reading this, I honestly feel that I could do no more justice to the definition of Love than Lewis does here. The fourth verse is truely beautiful. Enjoy.

LOVE’S AS WARM AS TEARS
by C.S. Lewis

Love’s as warm as tears,
Love is tears;
Pressure within the brain,
Tension at the throat,
Deluge, weeks of rain,
Haystacks afloat,
Featurless seas between
Hedges, where once was green.

Love’s as fierce as fire,
Love is fire:
All sorts- infernal heat
Clinkered with greed and pride,
Lyric desire, sharp-sweet,
Laughing, even when denied,
Whence all loves came.

Love’s as fresh as spring,
Love is spring:
Bird-song hung in the air,
Cool smells in a wood,
Whispering ‘Dare! Dare!’
To sap, to blood,
Telling ‘Ease, safety, rest,
Are good; not best.’

Love’s as hard as nails,
Love is nails:
Blunt, thick hammered through
The medial nerves of One
Who, having made us, knew
The thing He had done,
Seeing (with all that is)
Our cross, and His.

The Bigger Picture

Sometimes I just don’t get it
Bogged down with day to day monotony

I can’t find the strength or clarity of mind
To step outside my self-created prison
Life is bigger and the scheme is grander
There is no need to quantify in small terms
My state of mind, so often subjective,
Hinges on what I see and feel in the moment,
But isn’t it interesting how things change,
Those things called ‘the norm’ aren’t normal at all,
I become accustomed to the burden I bear,
Putting up boundaries reinforced with meaningless thoughts,
God is not a term, rather a being,
He is not small nor something to flee,
Within the confines of his loving arms,
I can push the boundaries of my very being,
Nothing is impossible; no mountain too high,
The constraints of humanity are stripped away,
Perfection can be grasped through the blood of another.
So then take a step outside of the present,
View life for what it is,
It’s much simpler than I once thought,
The trials and troubles I found insurmountable,
Are now seen for what they really are-
A product of sinful eyes losing their focus,
A shifting of priorities from perfection to abomination.
Thus, I take confidence in these brief times of realization,
Vowing to remember moments of clarity,
Renewing my strength to fight on another day,
Becoming vigilant to guard my thoughts and actions,
Giving it all to my God; the maker of a straight and narrow path.

Concerning an Anti-Salvation

From what great depths can a hero rise?

How can canticles divine be sung,
when redemption can be obtained by even the most unwise?
A man wants to make a mark, a story to tell
A reversal if you will; from heaven to hell
An anti-salvation achieved in rough spots
Why does he wish to play the part of a pirate,
Wrapped in the cloak of a life he can’t lead?
Oh what twisted thinking can do to a boy
Who longs to be longed for
And pines for an absent day
For indeed that is what he is
The youth- a pile of malleable clay
Fashioned one way, and then another
Swaying in the grasp of multiple arms
As he bakes in the sun
His thoughts begin to solidify
What has he become now that time has left its mark?
How much room is there left to change,
for one who’s life is a lump of hardened clay?

Godspeed to the water and the working agent
Cling to the streams that let us move freely
Don’t stray far, for you’ll soon dry out
Remember your maker, remember your deeds
You could do nothing, yet deserve everything
Don’t long for a path you can’t afford to walk
Rejoice in your proper place
He has a plan that will unfold in good time
Until then be patient and walk it with grace.

Beautiful Atonement

I apologize for my lack of ‘blogging’ as of late. Daily responsibilities have caused me to slow down in the writing department, though I have not stopped entirely. I was going through some old journals yesterday and came across an entry that I had penned a few years ago. It’s always interesting to read something that you had written at an earlier date (in this case it was when I had just barely started college). To see how God works in your own life and the life of others is an amazing thing. When I had originally written this I was struggling with the notion of perfection. I remember it being so hard to grasp… it was as if someone told you there was a new color that existed, a color you had never seen before. It’s hard to get your mind around that. And so I decided to post this old entry in the hopes that it might encourage my friends and family in Christ. Perfection as a concept can only be understood through the eyes of atonement- how beautiful is that! Praise be to our God for his unfailing grace and mercy. I hope you are having a wonderful summer- I look forward to posting more as time allows.

It’s times of realization like these when I can completely identify with Paul the apostle- I am the worst of sinners. Its a curiously glorious thing that the Lord has put in to place; the more I sin, the more I realize just how dependent I am on him. In my most twisted, violent sins I see flashes of myself screaming, “Crucify him!” and raising the hammer above my head to deliver a flesh-tearing blow on the nails that stuck him to a tree. The fact that we, a fallen mankind, can even think about obtaining salvation through Jesus Christ is an insane concept! Honestly- have you ever thought about how much it doesn’t make sense? There is no reason that God should, in human eyes, have mercy on us. And forget this relative nonsense that has become so prevalent. Being ‘mostly good’ doesn’t cut it, ‘mostly good’ is a deviation of perfect. Perfection is THE standard that God set in place at creation, anything less is an infection. Yet God sent his own son- one that met that standard of perfection- and watched as the sins of man piled upon him during his dying hour. I think we often focus on the physical pain of Christ as the most excruciating. Indeed, Jesus was very man, and the pain was beyond what many can even fathom, but in addition to this he bore the sins of the world. This is something no one can fathom, because even the unsaved have not felt its full weight. The penalty for sin is death and damnation- Christ experienced this not for one man, but for the entire human race. His pain knew no bounds. His love knew no bounds. And that is where I stand.

Today I was unfortunately given a particularly sobering view of myself as a sinner. I felt instant remorse for the black nature that I possessed. I prayed to God begging him for forgiveness, yet all the time knowing that it was already granted through Christ Jesus. Next I turned to scripture. Now this is where I was amazed. Subconciously I yearned for the rebuking scripture that would describe to me the damning nature of my sin. Instead, everywhere I turned I found a description of Christ’s love, life, and death for the man that I am- a murderous villain that killed his own savior. I realized that I wanted to feel guilt to make myself feel better. Again, another sinfully humanistic attempt at independence. As if me realizing that I had done something wrong would make it right?!? Of course not! Even in my supposed search for forgiveness I turned myself astray. I now find that I must turn to my God and realize that he has forgiven me. If I do not believe that he has forgiven me then I have already become the hypocrite of a faith I claim my own.

Its easy to make things complicated- a paradox perhaps, but a true one at that. Man’s earliest inclinations was to pass the blame- create a story for the sin you know boils down to wrong and right. There is good and there is evil; there is a heaven and a hell, but people don’t like to accept extremes. “Let’s compromise,” they say, lets mesh this white and black and trade it for a grayscale of “I’m okay, you’re okay”. That is absurd! Lowering the standards to fit a subpar vessel is not the answer. A painter needs only to add a tiny drop of black paint to white paint and he will end up with a sickly gray. So is it with perfection- add even the tiniest of sins and you will have flawed the concept. The answer is atonement, a beautiful ordinance set in place by the creator of the universe (who, by the way, is the only one with the fitting authority for such a decree).

To God be the glory- how encouraging!

My Hope is Built on Nothing Less

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death. For what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in sinful man, in order that the righteous requirements of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the sinful nature but according to the Spirit.”

-Romans 8:1-4

Its curious how we, as human beings, frequently forget to place our complete trust in God. Whether it be for a short season or a long, misplaced trust often manifests itself slowly and methodically in our lives. One moment we find ourselves wholly fixed on the goal set before us then, over time, life begins to creep in. The scary part about it all is that we often think we are giving our best to God! We trick ourselves into believing that we are giving our best to Him, when in reality he has been placed in the backseat of the grand scheme of our lives. When we are knocked down and beaten to our lowest, where do our priorities lie? What truly matters, and what doesnt matter at all?

I feel like Simon Peter during my own times of misplaced trust. I know Ive spoken on the subject much in the past, but it is so incredibly applicable and relevant to our daily lives! Peters properly placed faith in his Savior enabled him to walk on water yet should this really astonish us? Time and time again, the Lord has shown us that an unwavering faith moves mountains. Its when we entertain our worries and woes on an equal level with our faith in Christ that we run in to problems. The very moment Peter removed his eyes from Christ he began to sink.
Boom. Its that fast. We can almost hear Peter as he thinks the situation through

“Wait a second this is absurd, I shouldnt be able to do this! What about the natural laws of gravity? Im going to sink! What of this raging storm all about me? Surely the creatures of the deep will devour me in a moment! What was I thinking how could I be so stupid? How could I…”
Or a more modern spin on things might go:

“How am I ever going to pay all these bills? I really dont know what I want to do with my life. Am I just wasting time? Will I ever find the right guy/girl God has for me? How can I plan for my future when the present seems to be going no where? Where is God when I need him- doesnt he realize how important these things are to ME?”

I’m being dramatic my friends, but when you search your own heart you may find that you are falling into this same pitfall. Isnt it wonderfully reassuring to know that Christ extends a steady hand during the trying times of our lives? Though we allow our sinful natures to place trivial, earthly things above our faith in Christ, the Lord still makes himself known! How thankful we should be for these times of realization that the Lord provides us with. It seems like they often hit me like a freight train (indeed thats what happened tonight as I was doing my nightly run through the neighborhood). My friends, let us take hold of the Lords steadying hand while we still have time- there is nothing to lose and everything to gain!

The following hymn was consistently popping into my head tonight as I mulled over this subject- hopefully youll find some comfort and solace in it as well. May the Lord give us grace and soundness of mind to examine ours hearts daily so that we might culture a well-placed faith in Christ Jesus; our number one priority.
My Hope is Built
By Edward Mote

REFRAIN:
On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus Name.

Refrain

When darkness seems to hide His face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

Refrain

His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay.

Refrain

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh may I then in Him be found.
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.

Of Prose and Poetry…

Though I often write poetry, I rarely share it with others. For me, it’s more of a way to get thoughts and emotions onto paper… a conversation with oneself, as it were. When a bad (or good) day ensues it’s sometimes easiest to let the words just flow onto a scrap piece of paper as they may. Consequently, the majority of my poetry has been penned in free verse. Looking back on a few of the pieces that I’ve held onto, it’s interesting to see how the Lord uses our daily experiences and emotions to teach us how very reliant we are upon his saving grace and love. The following are a few pieces I penned on some of those ‘bad’ days. Hopefully they can be of some encouragement to you in your dark times!

“War of the Mind”

In a recken stupor the fallen flies
Not to hope but forsaken lies
He clings to malice and familiar places
A forged forgetfulness of the twisted faces
How is it that he flees into the arms of what he hates
Is this redundance akin with his fate
This lucid, frozen, empty desire
Is filled with his historical mire
And all around lay his fallen friends
As he takes up the sword and a stance to defend
But how, oh how is one to persevere
Amidst burning corpses and constant fear
Where ash lays thick on the deceased and broken
Where all that is said has never been spoken
The war of the mind continues in silence
A twisted spectre of raging violence
The fool dismisses the battle within
As the enemy approaches armed with his sin
Until at last when he least expects
They enslave his soul and infest his flesh
Alas for another, alas for shame
A tunneling enemy, wounding the lame
He despairs as the bulge inside
Becomes too much to handle- too much to hide
And as the tears run down his face
A warmth surrounds him and doth embrace
‘Onward, onward!’, the cry from above
‘On with the sword and on with my love
On in passion, on with grace
Onward in this runnable race!’

“To Remove a Mask”

The world is a dead place to me,
wrapped in the fading shrouds of filth
I wander here and there
meeting again, those that I thought I knew
but the light shattered my soul,
the thick glaze cast from off my eyes;
I walk anew… indeed I walk for the first time
cares are cast on the wayside
longevity is strewn on the hilltops;
pining under this synthetic light
Plastic faces in plastic cages
burdened under a sack of mud-filled lies.
Gaunt and tasteless a mirror of what I once was,
they stagger through the streets
grasping for a day they call ‘tomorrow’.
But oh, for a fool’s hope,
to inject them with faith of a child,
for scales to fall from off thine eyes
and clouds to pass from these dark skies
then and only then you’ll see the truth
two wooden beams and a body forsaken
they washed away this tainted shroud
that corrupted creation and perfection

“What I am and What I will Be”

Gather not the thoughts of dread
the chilling silence which so easily invades
so often it feels like my mind has been entombed
imprisoned in a cell of gelatin
where true thoughts never quite make an escape
trapped inside a numbing agent they float
resonating slower and slower
until they’ve become part of the emptiness

thus the task is realized
a soul encased in frozen deception
though the thoughts and ideas fall asleep
memories of a brighter day claim hope
they scream and resonate through a slothful soul
shaking off the dust and sludge
of a body that has become accustomed to being choked

but these memories claw and cut
though they face a dulling foe
perhaps the most dangerous-
who enslaves the flesh slowly, with purpose
constantly eating away at a mind
once intent with pristine purpose
now maleable and easily bent

then with a flash- memory emerges
cutting the surface of a mucous-laden sky
stark and sleek, so this is what I was once!
as the sleeping soldier groans and aches
staggering to attention; to fight again
oceans of clay rushing from his feet
suddenly speed with meaning!

concepts flashing, life happening
the pulse of thought jolts to life
Purposefully driven forward
striking up a pace that increases with each step
slashing, hacking to the surface
the direction now made true
jumping, fighting, riding
through the muddy swamps that surround us

only for a moment
this short race we call life
until suddenly the shock of light
engulfs and incinerates every imperfection
nothing but joy, sweet perfect joy
consumes ever atom, every synapse
of what was once a body

“And What of a Traitor?”

Despotism is the alias of a corrupted man
For wherein lies the strength of a broken crusader?
Who will cry for the fallen runner?
Would the world shift and turn its back?
What about the lonely, the lost, those who once burned bright?
Was their concience a stolen commodity?
Was anything real?
Should I have been affected, indeed should I still feel?
Wolves in sheep’s clothing tearing the flesh
Empty eyes are tunnels to nothingness
The heart beats cold in a cavern of stone
Yet once I felt its warmth at night
But those days are gone and winter has come
They’re but a chiseled, sneering statue
What of the traitor in you?

“Untitled”

The dawning of a realization within my heart;
Something I’ve known so many times before
yet everytime seems new in the eyes of a child
a lesson learned a million times
that I will fall the harder I try
but there in lies the problem
‘try’ is a three-letter word for failure
My frail vessel plots and plans,
but to no avail
What I require is another’s desire
to replace the makeshift crutch with a plan not my own
A path to follow that I know not
trusting my life to a script that is being read for the first time
Shall I resist, shall I show blind defiance?
No, I will confront my ignorance and accept my failing capacity
to grasp a concept greater than humanity itself
I surrender all to the plan that unfolds
through another’s broken body and becomes my own.

“Mess of a Man”

Screams of conviction echo in an empty mind,
Waves of panic crash upon a slick black thought
The castaway’s dark secrets are uneartherd,
There is no running, there is no hiding,
Sheer terror takes over- vision begins to blur
I now behold the blinding sword of truth.

A hand, perfect and shining grasps the weapon
My eyes widen with fear as the sword approaches
Pain so brilliant as I fall to the floor
Again and again the sword strikes,
I scratch and scream, “Lord, please no more!”
But no stalling action is taken and I’m left in a heap.

The crowd surrounds me, a broken, bloody mess
I cry out for help yet they turn their eyes away
I’m left all alone, cold and helpless
Years go by and countless tears fall from my face
And still in the shadows I can make out a figure
The soldier that smote me stands in silence.

I curse and scream in his magnificent face
Yet his hands are stayed, poised and smooth
I ask him to end my life, I beg for death
Yet he merely shakes his head and grimaces
I’m at the bottom, defenseless and broken…

Only then do my eyes open wide,
As I look to the one who struck me so very long ago,
“Oh, good Lord I need your help,
for if you will not kill me, then make me your own!”
He stirs from his post and trods toward me

“My son I love you, I always have!
But you viewed my good as wholly bad.
I struck you and hurt you, ’tis true
but only to strengthen your spirit,
to show you a humbler and better way.”

Then he picked me up and held me in his arms,
He nursed me back to health and equipped me anew,
A better and happier life I lead,
full of purpose and full of speed,
For God takes a mess of a man and gives him hope.