No Boxes Allowed

The possibilities are endless they say.
Start here; move over there; then
Swing around and end up someplace else entirely.
Somehow it all ends up uniquely suited
For the person willing to expand his vision—
No boxes allowed here.
The vast expanses of the universe are
Teeming with unused, unspent ideas just
Waiting for someone to snatch them.
I’ve caught a few of them myself
When occasion demands a different viewpoint.

I have to admit…
It’s odd coming at a problem from the side
Rather than front or back,
But perspective, it turns out,
Needs changing from time to time and
Cardboard walls need tearing down,
Or punching out as the case may be,
Because obscured vision kills hope
Faster than you can say, “Help!”

Look around again.
Get out of mental ruts and
Make a new path in the wilderness.
Fill up the valleys! Flatten the hills!
Reshape everything in your thought life
Until the idea makes some sense
Or a way around the problem is found.
Resolution does not always come easily,
But it does come—sometimes in “impossible” ways.
With persistent pursuit of improvement,
Vision expands exponentially!

When I Stand

When time is done and I shall stand alone
Before my judge on God Almighty’s throne,
No questions asked or answered, He will know
Each detail of the time I spent below.
By grace I stand within His righteousness,
But He will test my heart’s own faithfulness.
Did I love Him, keeping His commands,
And listen when His Spirit said to stand?
Or did I turn away from His sweet voice
To serve myself by making my own choice?
No matter what He sees when I stand there,
His judgment stands and no one else can share.
By Jesus’ blood my sins have been atoned,
And mercy tempers justice from His throne.

Just One More Letter

Sometimes I feel as if I could juuuuust stretch my fingers out one more letter, I’d be able to feel the Holy Spirit flowing through me again… the way it used to be. It’s just like the passion I felt on Sunday morning that I had not felt in sooooo long. The part of me that is consumed with fire and eager pursuit of my Lord woke up and said, “Where have you been? What have you been doing? Let’s go! Quit fooling around and get on your feet, girl!!! We have things to do, places to go, people to see…” Then I left the meeting, got home, got back into my same old routine and thought, “Where did it go?” It was gone. The passion, the fire, the whatever-it-was-that-awoke, seemed to have faded away into a dull, get-through-the-day apathy.

I want fervor! I want zeal! Life seems so doggone overwhelming and I feel like if I could just have Holy Spirit energy, I’d be able to wade through the muck like it was clear water. I need His Word to enervate me again, so that when I read, I receive real life rather than some insipid sameness. So, I am reading again. I never really stopped, but I haven’t really focused on seeking Him in the text either. I looked for something I could use rather than something I could metabolize into my spirit-man. Sometimes it seemed like all I was doing was looking for something to give someone else and the essence of what it said passed right over me, slipped right through my fingers like sand.

The Word…His Word…Living Words of Life…I need so desperately. I’m tired of songs that say how desperate we are for God or how passionate we feel towards God when they’ve all faded into daily background music courtesy of radio. Some song that meant something when it was written has become a distant, faded work of art that’s been exposed to sunlight too long. The vivacity has faded to washed-out colors and sounds—or as Dave Grohl sings on the Foo Fighters’ song “Come Alive”…”every sound monotone, every color monochrome, life began to fade into the black…”

Scripture has its own rhythm and rolls to a different kind of music than we are used to in our pop culture. There are no verses or choruses or bridges—just a recitative with a swelling and fading choral background and orchestral accompaniment that accents or detracts from the vocals as the conductor chooses. The words clarify the intent of the composer. The underlying unheard music carries His heart. I want to know both the intent and the heart! I can no longer search the holy word only for others when I need His Bread of Life and Living Water for myself as well. Frankly, I just need His LIFE living in me, through me, for me.

The problem is that I’m so used to just living my life myself. I get myself out of bed, dressed for work, and to work. Then the day drags on, and finally lunch comes, and then finally, finally 5:00 is here and I can go home to the mundane chores and duties that await me…that overwhelm me by their very magnitude. I have so much stuff and nowhere to put it all! So I wade through the lesser tasks like dishes and laundry, help my husband with the checkbook sometimes, and procrastinate on anything I can. Where’s the LIFE in that? I go to bed wondering where the day went and where was God in my day. I can think of moments here and there, conversations that occur, and thoughts floating through my brain, but no consistent awareness of His presence.

Ah, Lord, I feel like Paul in Romans 7 where my bodily person fights against my spirit person. Save me, dear Jesus, from myself and set my heart ablaze for You once more.

interminable waiting

Another long day stretches out in front of me. It seems I wait forever for God to move in some tangible way in my life. I can see small spurts of something every now and then… and then… I’m stuck in another standstill period. Things keep happening around me, so God is probably moving, but I don’t understand His silence where I need the answers. In the meantime, hope breathes shallowly, just enough to stay alive and not enough to help me move forward even one tiny step. The interminable waiting seems like its own force pushing against me, making me frustrated. If only I could just trust, this… suspension …would not be so difficult.

The Puddle

There, I went and did it without even realizing it.
I forgot myself again.
I got so bogged down with all the stuff of life,
My thoughts swirled in meaningless, overlapping circles.
Words flying this way and that in some
Mixed jumble of complete and utter nonsense
Until I sat down, let loose the wildness inside,
And set my pen free without agenda.
No trying to make something happen…
No forcing myself into predetermined structure…
No frustrated, half-done slips of something…
Just me rambling around in a muddle,
Content to stir things into nothingness,
So I can finally, finally relax and let loose
With grinning drivel.
Somehow that helps more than all the exercises
I could ever put my mind through.
The mental picture is priceless, too.
Imagine me at five years old
Stamping in a puddle in the parking lot
Till all the water is splashed out and
The puddle is gone.
That’s me now, stamping around in my brain
Till all the cohesion scatters into little droplets and
The forced, frustrating bits of thought are gone!
Releasing it all relieves the burden.
I do not have to do anything but sit, stare,
Type idiocy and see where it takes me.