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Jesus, I heard you say, “pick up your cross”. You are the epitome of encouragement. Even though I am so weak and doubtful of my ability to press on at times, I am willing to suffer with you. You rise here and we move ahead. I know that difficulty is part of this walk and yet still, there is no one I’d rather follow. Spirit, I pray that you teach me to suffer well because it is inevitable. Even if the work is cleaning up cat urine for the millionth time, I will ask: How is God working in this? How can Jesus be in it? What is the lesson of love beneath this burden? Father, show me how you are using this trouble to strengthen our bond. I don’t know how to relate well! Teach me! I bow to You. I stand before You in reverence. I sense a deepening realization of absolute dependency. These heavy tasks would crush me if I were to not carry Christ in my chest!

And yes, shame and guilt seep in because I feel so bratty and immature for being so hate filled and broken down because my cats peed on the floor again even though I know I am doing my best to keep their litter up. I am just feeling so tired of my life as it is. I don’t know how I can endure another day. I just know I couldn’t do it without you. So, Jesus, you are where I get my thanks. You are the infinite Source of gratitude. Because the truth is that some sick part of my heart still wishes death upon the cats. I don’t wish it to be true, but it is. But I know thou shall not murder, even if in mind. So, I have been convicted. I actively repent. It is you who allows me to see this part of what I am and accepts it. Then, I can flow into the work of asking not to stay this way. I pray to evolve beyond this type of upset, Spirit. Where is my compassion? Forgive them. Bless them. Love them.

Lord, can you please help restore gentleness to this blackened area of heart? Huh. Nothing changes if nothing changes. Where am I to do things differently, Father? Please make it so undeniably clear where You wish this to move, or, if stillness is still the call. And please, Spirit, transform this hardened, fleshy acre of land that rests in my chest so the range for rooting seeds of truth multiplies into greater fields. I know that the thaw will hurt but I trust that you will be my comfort in these passing storms, as the melting phase sanctifies these heart soils. The Great Refiner. The fire that consumes. The flame that burns off. Spirit, wash clean the harsh corners of this heart and help me be tolerance of those who share this home space. The work is where God has me planted. The work is here.

Surely, I was once a similar spot on God’s heart space and home, deceiving and disobeying. He had mercy. He gave me grace. May I allot these same characteristics of God to my cats. I am committed. I have chosen. As You don’t leave me, Father, so then I won’t leave them. This is right relationship. This is the work of staying. Relationships mean wrestling through the low points even when it’s hard. It’s being together in sickness and in health. As if I was not a drag on Your nerves, Father, when I was in sin and destruction.

Forgive me, Father, for aiming elsewhere and falling short. I pray for the strength to offer the same unmerited favour to my cats that You have offered me; however hard it is. Help me not to argue with Your use of tactics for shaping me into Your image. No. I don’t like that my character is being refined by these defiant felines who I struggle to care for, but Your will be done. Have your way with me. So, even if this soul cries and these eyes fill with heavy drops of sorrow, I know that it is the small acts done in love that matter.

“Do everything in love” [1 Corinthians 16:14, NIV]. I pray that this whole heart shows up where it is asked to be. I just need help to relate, to be close, to stand firm, to carry my cross, to grant grace and mercy, to be like Christ. Spirit, reveal the way, even if it’s one step at a time. Jesus, I will keep following you. I know the joy is here. Spirit, please align me with a joyful state of being. A song. Chills. Landslide. It’s reaching through to my soul. “Cause’ I’ve been afraid of changing, so I built my life on you” [Fleetwood Mac] – Jesus. Father, thank you for bottoming out my life and bringing me to Jesus. For this is where I will forever stand. On the rock. On the cornerstone. On the word. On the truth. In the storm. In the heart. In Jesus.

with all
this
ether

in-between us

i feel
even
closer

to you

it’s
as if

the distance
that separates

us
draws me in

and
asks me
to sense

the part
of
my being

that lacks
proximity

to our
whole

~

i wish
to be
near

you;

i long
to be
called

back into
your
arms

i am
yearning
after

an encounter
with
the

wrapping
of

our shared field

i crave
a merging

and
an
embrace

of

what i am
with you…

as
us

i’m curious
about
the absence of doubt,

about
proofless
paces of faith,

about
earnest convictions
which lack evidence…

there’s something
about
the art of walking as if,

of not needing your
soul’s work
to be snagged on earthly outcomes

to drive function,
to set strides forward

to usher
that single step
into dark deserts…

that isn’t
of this
world

cause’

all of the most
beautiful happenings
in my life

have been ordained
by something
beyond my capacities

—you,

you
came from
God,

and now
I simply
want more of His works

to conjure
in this field of space
that I occupy

because

He is creating
ways
to my dreams

that this finite
human
form

could never
have
made manifest.

with
floods
of gratitude,

i incarnate
something
of

submission,
and obedience,
and dependence,

living through
all forms
of surrender

as my being
drifts seas
of unknowns

with palms
fully
up

towards
expanding
horizons

that rise and fall
the Light

offered by
Christ.

as no stranger
to the extremes

or the streams
of immersion

i am
all
in

on this novel
course

that’s being
conjured
by the heavens,

that is
the ultimate
art

of vast
poetry
embodied

which
expresses and engages
the highest union

of colliding stars

merging
the essences of
what we are.

the sole
importance of my
life

is this now

--being
with you,

on this
Divine pursuit

Sacred manna
forever
paving our
route

as this translates

His
small, still
voice

and gives

all that I am
over

to this fresh,
eternal entity
that is

a God
filled
us

I’m purging yesterday. It perplexes me how staunchly our culture sticks to hours gone. Have you checked in with the remainder of the sands in your hourglass? I do not know how rapidly the last bits of these sediments will fall but I am grateful for the bandwidth to bear witness to such a thing—the phenomena of diminishment. It’s not always pleasant but it’s honest, to meet eyes with the inevitability of your own demise. With this lens, it seems insane to draw lines around the instances that have already been dissolved into the sea of histories.

I’m so bored of anything rearview right now. I’m so bored of looking back. I have so many reasons to be bursting with joy right where I am. What fool would long to be somewhere else? I am drawing my essence out of foregone seasons; there is nothing there for me anymore. So, I’m calling the whole of my vitality to the place surrounding my roots—here. I’m looking out. I’ve had enough of turning inward on myself.

In fact, I want the only thing that continues of what I am to be of name. I want to know something of Divine union. I want to dissolve what’s fleshy and fear filled and futile. There is no rush or urgency, but I am moving away from this stint of life, this segment of river already swam. I need new currents for growth. I require fresh compositions to expand in heart, to stretch in being, and to deepen in intimacy with Spirit. My importances have shifted drastically. My focus is not the same. What fills me isn’t behind or worldly. So, no… the sustenance is not this. It’s You, and it’s you.

This is an ode to setting right course, to honoring the emergence of true priorities. So, to cleanse my field of what was and to pace forward towards the calling that’s been impressed in my soul from the High Source that’s otherworldly. There’s a lot of I don’t knows but somehow, they’ve never been so comforting, so clear; so raw and so pure. I’m sighing in the beauty of faith. I’ve been grandly blessed. Where I am begets the Divine quality of what comes next, as I wade in the mystery until it’s time for succeeding unveils. So, thank you, God, for these strikes of awe that are not made of human.

I once wondered, like, really wondered, what happens to the Love that’s been given to others who haven’t been able to receive it well or reciprocate it. Like, is it just dropped to the dirt and metabolized into fresh life shoots? Or does it bounce off the being who can’t stay sponge enough to soak in the shared space of Self and blend into some other bit of all this?

I don’t know, but today I’d surmise that even if Love’s unabsorbed essence sets trajectory to the edges of the cosmos, the spirit of its emittance will find its way back to you, to its place of original generation. So, even if the quality of unconditional Source boomerangs around the counters of the earth, I feel that the deep affection that’s been allotted from chest returns, and perhaps with increased potency.

Anyways. I made this a while ago. I’ve always enjoyed this quote. Today I see the Love I’ve conjured within being luminously reflected without. My life is brimming with miracles. My heart is full of gratitude. But it was these leavings of Love that God dropped along my path that kept my faith for brighter days when the winds grew stormy, and the nights wore dark. I’m now living the life I prayed for then; this grace will not be disregarded.

it’s
the
way
that
a
buoyed
star
of
our
mixed
composition
transits
an
orbit
that’s
naturally
set
itself
through
the
once
hollow
spaces
in
our
hearts

my
soul
is
linked
to
yours
by
this
revolving
gleam
streak
of
center
chasing
center
like
there’s
no
other
course
in
the
universe
for
this
ribbon
trail
of
light
to
caress

and
in
this
exquisite
spin
through
of
my
life
ripples
merging
with
the
undulations
that
sing
shine
to
your
spirit,

there’s
this
beautiful
exchange
of
luminous
rivers
that
mimic
shooting
stars
painting
the
evening
skies
that
forever
bond
my
twinkling
quality
with
the
brilliantly
figured
essence
of
what
you
are

as
orbits
fueled
by
vibrations
of
deep
affection
inevitably
pull
me
towards
your
core
and
i
spin
around
this
curved
path
that
rests
around
the
edges
of
your
being

with
my
eyes
fixed
to
the
embers
smoldering
beyond
the
softly
open
windows
in
your
face
that
spread
the
warmth
of
the
sun
across
my
tender
spots

so
please
take
my
hand
tight
and
let
me
swirl
the
perimeters
of
your
celestial
vessel
like
a
coil
wrapping
crystal
with
copper
to
steady
its
energies
into
coherent
pace

you
are
my
cosmic
sanctuary

don’t
let
go…
the
flowers
in
this
new
world
are
just
starting
to
glow

_ _ _ _ _

from
the
”it’s
you”
series

what if
the lamp that is my soul
that floats at the center of my chest

is
actually

reflected above
on the canvas
of night

at

the proportionate
distance
which

my being rests beneath it

what if
when i walk a trail down below
at the edge of dusk

a
star

shoots across the sky
in a
mirrored trajectory

that symmetrically mimics
the course

that my feet
have pressed
into this earthy carpet of leaf litter

hmm

why could we
not be reflections of
celestial orbs of light

or
alternatively

why could the
sparkles emerging
as the evening is made velvet

not be
a visual echo
of our life source

gleamed
above

accurately imaged
across the firmament
as this

sort of
inverse display of
luminous

heavenly
bodies

perhaps
like a puncture
in the upstairs ether

where

we’d lounge
in heaven
if we were not here

as God
sets ready
for some shut eye

we look up
to the fairy lights
scattered across

the face of Nyx
who glows
freckles

so
that

the chaos
of pure black
does not consume

the composition
of
constellations

as my soles
bounce about on
rocks

that i
imagine
to be

balls of
burning
elements

toning the most
glorious vibration
of hymn


upon
mixing
with my matter

why not fantasize
that maybe

we look up
to our vacant place in space
and the hole holding glow
until we return
admires us
as we wear our organic debris

this paper lantern of flesh

ugh

there’s something about the stars…

They noticed the way you looked at me with the deepest affection, gazing into my spectacles with a stare homed in on the light. Cause’ that’s what I saw in you, the glow of an innocent child with a radiant luminosity bursting through. Your true form… rupturing through the haze of that spooky fog that encased your heart. You hold a pure core organ at your best and at your worst, your vessel houses a haunted cavern—a darkened space full of rage and contempt and horror and all the grimmest aspects of life. Yet I kept the surface of my seeing globes reflective to your highest potential, using my light to stay a mirror, believing in your utmost capacities despite who you were able to express as. A lantern in your unlit hollow. The pain. The pain of having to love through such a discrepancy between who you are and who you want to be… who I wanted you to be. For you. Not for me but for you. The resolve in your craving for a better Self had me convinced that at least that was true—that you wanted to be a better man.

I’ve heard that if you perceive the most beautiful facets of a human’s character that they will be more likely to settle into such a state, the state of divine kind and quality. There must be some truth to this idea that says we become who people believe us to be. Why else would it matter who we associate with if the eyes of those seeing us didn’t matter, if they didn’t have a hand in orchestrating and orienting our matter? So, if form is to some degree shaped by the observer, I hope you felt that I’ve aided in the process of shaping you well, the way I was willing to hold you through hell.

I pride myself on honesty. And I’ve come to know that honesty is different from seeing things the way that they are. The truth of reality can easily be distorted by our commitment to see the best in people even when they aren’t showing their best way. The truth of reality can be subtly distorted by those who are willing to act contrary to who they say they are, the character they build with their lips but fail to embody with their being. An act. A performance. A string of saying I am this but doing life as that, being contrary to the soul’s blueprint that is your truth… that would be your truth.

And please forgive me if the standards I’ve placed on myself have seeped through my eye’s echo of you: I must live in truth, it’s the only way for me. I pray that you have only felt the unconditional caress of a gaze willing to cradle you as you are. Because regardless of the inconsistencies in your character, I chose to use my seeing lenses to cast back the type of love that was void of any ‘dependent upon’ criteria. So, when they ask of the love that was in your eyes when you looked at me, I hope it is clear to you that it was merely the love I was reflecting back to you and not how you were ready to see yourself. And this is important because what am I seeing of me if the reflection of love can only go one way? “We can only meet each other as deeply as we’ve met ourselves.” You have some blackened caves to explore. Traverse them thoroughly. Or don’t. Though I do hope you reach every crevice if it’s what’s best for you—if you so desire and if God wills it.

So that’s why my eyes were so alluring to you, because my optic orbs held the finest vision of you that you have ever yet come by. I pray that you don’t forget what I saw and that maybe, if it’s right for your journey, you see yourself as I have seen you but this time without my eyes as mirrors and with use of your own. I will forever be grateful for the way your limited worth has honed my inner look, and my sense of worth. Because of you and your flawed retinas, I love myself more deeply and I pray that you feel that too.