Tag Archives: Poetry

A Small Rebellion

Commands don’t fall on my ears lightly. While I am a compliant creature There is a rebellion that hides within Whispering, gnawing, sabotaging. This rebellion hears commands, commands designed to help, not hinder, intended that I may be a vessel, … Continue reading

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Receipt

What is forgiveness if it doesn’t cost anything? If it doesn’t demand anything? If grace is offered without change demanded it is of no more substance than a swag bag distributed at a weekend gathering a souvenir of a good … Continue reading

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On Saltiness

Of all the flavors of all the world Jesus told us that we are salt. Not to have salt, not to become salt, not even that we have salt but that we are salt. We are salt, and with that … Continue reading

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Fools of the World

The only people who are righteous are the fools of the world. Standing up when you are told to sit down. Sitting down when you are told to stand. Marching when you are told to go home. Speaking when gags … Continue reading

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The Makers of Peace

In my experience, the makers of peace are rarely truly happy. They struggle. They weep. They strategize, and make plans. They fight without violence, but fight nonetheless. It is only in defeat of violence itself they are happy and as … Continue reading

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The hill is high.

If the pure in heart is that of a child’s, then mine must still exist somewhere underneath the scars and the dirt the cuts and the bruises longing to climb that hill and see God. The hill his high and … Continue reading

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It’s like being cool

It’s like being cool. If you say you are righteous, you aren’t. If you say you aren’t, you might be.   Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” Matthew 5:6  

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Who is willing to risk it all?

Who is willing to risk it all? Some are not given the choice. Some have nothing left to risk. Their homes are taken. Their livelihoods stolen. Their voices are silenced. Their very right to exist does not exist. So who … Continue reading

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Making the burden lighter

When I look upon my list of sufferings personal and individual they always seem so daunting and imposing to my eyes. They are mine, and so the scars they bring are so much more raw and wounding searing with pain … Continue reading

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Happy. Poor.

Wind rustling on mountain grass dies down as the word comes from a man far away. Happy. Happy are the poor. Happy are the poor in spirit. Theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Happy. The people look around, puzzled by … Continue reading

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