You Call Me Friend

O, Light that lighteth every man,
O, Bread that feeds us all,
O, Holy One from the heart of the Father,
before you, I stand in awe.

The great I Am, the Eternal Word,
the Beginning, and the End . . .
How can you share your heart with me
and choose to call me your friend?

I come before you,

lay my dreams, my life

at your feet

not looking back,

eyes ever forward

only on you

at home in your love,

at home in your arms

because you choose to call me . . .

you called me your friend.

You who can do anything,
whose breath give life to all,
whose hand crafts the tiniest eyelash,
before you, I humbly fall.

O, King of Kings, O, El Shaddai
whose word makes all things new,
how can you share your heart with me
and choose to call me your friend?

I bow before you,

lay my dreams, my life

before your throne

not looking back,

eyes ever forward only on you,

at home in your love,

at home in your arms

because you choose to call me,

the King of the Universe calls me,

you call me your friend.

no divided life,
no secular / sacred dilemma,
mindful that everything should honor Him,
should reveal His glory, His love

no divided heart,
no secret, unexposed places,
every corner washed by His grace,
filled with His Spirit

no divided mind,
no stubbornness, selfishness,
every ambition yielded to His plan,
content whatever

don't desire to be in the world's circus,
to precariously walk a tightrope . . .
May I fall off into your arms
unafraid to suffer and willing to die.

I (Jesus) do always those things that please Him.

John 8: 29

Today, I walk with a slight limp
and can't see without my glasses.
My skin isn't smooth,
and my knees no longer bend.
My nails are yellowed, cracked, peeling,
and my hair is brittle and quickly turning gray.
I sing with a cough,
have no breasts,
am riddled with scars,
stand on knotty, calloused feet,
and suffer pain almost every day.
This is who I am on the outside.
This is what others see.

Am I just a body,
a creature with a spirit inside?
Is this to be my only glory?

No, His truth declares otherwise.
The real me is spirit, hidden by flesh,
created in His image
where imperfections do not matter.
This is what He sees.
This is what He loves.
This is what He desires.
This He calls beautiful.
This He named Beloved.

I in Him, He in me,
All of us one with the Father -
Oh, what mysteries the Holy Spirit weaves.
Together forever.

This is my only glory.
This is His, too, to the glory of the Father.

Today, O Lord,
my heart's request
is to snuggle in your arms
and be at rest,

knowing this truth
above all things -
my true purpose in life
is the joy your true presence brings.

So, let me not wander.
Let me not fret.
Let me remember
and never forget.

You are my joy,
my purpose, my life.
All is well
when I'm at your side.

Please keep my heart tender.
Keep it true,
eyes always upward
gazing only at you.

Holy fire from up above
invade my heart today.
Burn fierce and strong in that secret cove.
Cleanse the world away.

Don't want any of the other things
often confused with this holy flame,
like the joy of emotions, gratitude, or fellowship.
Just want that holy blaze

to burn like lava in my stony heart
forging fiery faith anew.
For one who has this volcanic heat
has freedom, strong and true,

and reverence for the honor of the most high God
and the things He loves the most.
So, welcome holy wind, holy water.
My heart is now your host.

Burn brighter and hotter, deeper and purer
than anything I've ever known.
Lead me down that one true path
where His heart becomes my home.

Do with your life whatever will set you free

to give the most love.

~ Theresa of Avila

Tears

Saline droplets falling from the windows of our soul

Caused by frustration or irritation,
physical pain or need,
joy or some hilarious circumstance, a "faux paux,"
more often than not, from grief or regret

Broken hearts, broken lives -
the stuff of tears

Why we cry reveals who we truly are.

Are we prideful and self-centered
only weeping in personal pain or loss,
or do we, like Jesus, weep over others?
Does their pain move me?
Does their sin cause me distress?
Do I see those with nothing and feel compassion?
Can I sense God's heart?

Oh, to be the rocks, the dust beneath the feet of Jesus
bathed, sanctified by His courageous, compassionate tears.

Oh, to have a broken heart,
one that weeps when God whispers,
that hates what He hates,
loves what He loves,
that hears when His tiniest tear falls
and responds with a kindred knowing.

Oh, to be a friend of God.

We are not abandoned forever.

Though He brings grief,

He also shows the great compassion of His unfailing, everlasting love.

Lamentations 3: 31-32

Come and Sit Upon the Throne of My Heart

Come and sit upon the throne of my heart, O Lord.
Come in and make my heart your home.
I take everything
that you've given me,
and I bow
in true humility.
I lay it all before your majesty.

Because of your mercy,
I am no longer enslaved.
Because of your love,
I'm not what I was.
Because of your grace,
I can now see.
In your divine will,
you've rescued me.

May your kingdom come.
Yes, may your holy will be done.
May your kingdom sovereignly come,
and may your holy will be done . . . in me.

Soul shaper,
cleanse and reshape me
from my head down to my toes
and everything in between.
Cleanse me with your spirit.
Make me truly free
to love and to serve others
as you have so loved me.

Heart breaker,
completely shatter my heart.
Gather all the pieces.
Use your holy art
to put it back together
as only you can do.
Fill it with compassion.
Bathe it in your truth.

Dream planter,
sweep and clean my mind.
May you find an empty space
to fill with heaven's finds -
visions, revelation,
songs that stir the heart.
Silence all the enemy's lies.
May we never be apart.

Miracle worker,
come and make me new.
Transform my heart and my mind.
Flood me with your truth.
Whatever you find wicked,
wherever there is disease,
come, touch and cleanse and heal.
Release your liberty.

Be the Message

Rulers, emperors, kings usually sit enthroned.
Others do their bidding.
Not so, the King of Kings.
No passive ruler here.
The Lord of all the heavens and earth
donned a servant's pose and washed feet -
filthy, tired, gnarly, stinky, calloused feet.
Oh, what generosity!
What love!

"Now go.
Do likewise.
As the Father has sent me,
so send I you."

Such generosity deserves, demands generous living.

Christ's story did not end with Him,
nor did His gifts,
nor did the supernatural,
nor did His mission.
His death was only the beginning of our story.

We were never called to be spectators only.
Christianity is not football
where only a select few play.
We are all "on the team."
We all have an important task.
We all have purpose.
We've all been given what we need for life and godliness,
what we need to discern the Father's heart,
what we need to be an active participant
in the greatest drama in the universe.

He was, is the message, the revelation of God.
God in Him; He, in God.
Now He is in us; we, in Him.
He/We are now the message, the revelation of God.

My prayer in light of all of this?
~ to be made ready for life
~ to have my soft spots exposed,
rough edges smoothed, weaknesses strengthened
~ to be made right, kept right, always doing right
~ to know and be known
~ to walk in humility above all else

Can never really know myself, my heart's motives
unless I can see your frighteningly lovely face
disfigured by compassion, suffering, death, and sin,
yet mysteriously beautiful, a lily among thorns.
You came from so high and stooped so low
to be the message, God's sent one.
Now, we are your message, the sent ones of God.