myopic pilgrim

Forgive me, Lord. I still live as if obeying you means to not sin.

I cry out to God with a feeble cry
With words incomprehensible, squeezed out in desperation
I don’t try to form statements or petitions
I don’t even know what to ask for
I just cry out, God!
Jesus, help me!
Spirit, groan on my behalf!

I want to run to righteousness
But my feet are filled with lead
Deadweight that I can’t blame on anyone
I don’t have the courage to face the man I see in the mirror everyday
To call him out, to rebuke his slothfulness
To exhort him, to give him marching orders and command him to go
To console him, to point his eyes to your grace and mercy

God, great in power, famous for your deeds
Confront the man I see
Let him die
Re-create him in the form and likeness of the Son

Some people didn’t like to refer to Hurrican Katrina victims as refugees. Al Sharpton said, “They are not refugees. They are citizens of the United States,” as if he was trying to make a distinction between the poor black folks we might find in Africa and the poor black folks we’d find in this country. He also said they weren’t refugees because they weren’t wandering around “looking for charity.” In the first place, I don’t like the way the way he is talking about refugees in general (I think of the Darfur people who were driven from their homes at gunpoint). And in the second place, since when was charity shameful. Since America started growing up, that’s when.

They aren’t refugees; they’re Americans. Americans pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. We have that can-do spirit. They aren’t refugees. They don’t need anyone to help them.

But they do. And at some point we all need some kind of help. It’s silly to pretend that anything we have wasn’t provided somehow by someone else. Follow that line of thought and ultimately you will end with the Creator.

The letter Jesus writes to the Laodicean church in Revelation 3:14 calls that church lukewarm. They are neither hot nor cold. They are not passionate and intense for God and neither are they like cold water on a hot day, refreshing and revitalizing. And why are they lukewarm? “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked (v.17).” And that you need charity. You need God.

Dear God, we are all seeking a home, a haven where we will be safe. We need to eat and drink and to be clothed. We need refuge in the brokeness of our world. Bread of Heaven, feed me until I’m no longer in want. Amen

I don’t think it’s a secret that my wife and I are trying to have a baby. Trying being the operative word. Remember in sex ed. at school where we were scared into thinking if we so much as stick our tongue in a girl’s ear there’s a possiblity she may get pregnant? In actuality, it’s a little tougher than that, involving a several variables. Getting pregnant—to me—is more akin to the planets aligning.

Dear Jesus, would you move heaven and earth for us?

My prayers to You are a trail of my brokenness.
They mark where I have fallen short,
fallen apart,
fallen behind.
You are gracious to me.
You do not leave me in my weakness.
You bandage me up, disinfect my cuts and scrapes.
You ice my bruises and give me a place to rest my head.
I called out to You and You answered me,
time and again You answered me
My prayers to You are a trail of my redemption.
They mark where I was rescued, when I was set back on the road.