Fear of Unbelief

I fear that none believe in me, and doubt when it is said.
It matters naught how oft' succeed for praise is quickly shed.
And oh, for one who could dispel the terror of my being:
That everything I've said and done is not what I've been seeing.
For when I try to do the best, I'm not and never was.
My motives wrong, and thus am I even more because.
And in my sin I find myself and desires held at bay.
I know my sin, but not my God. What more is there to say?

Does God believe me as I have proved believe in Him?
Does He smile in delight at me this flame so dim?
And if the past shows future ways, I'll end as I began:
Chasing God and everything, but falling as I ran.
“Shortcoming” is my middle name, my last is “Failed Once More”,
Yet God tells me, “Keep knocking. Keep knocking on this door.”
I fear His unbelief the most, that He's given up on me.
I've had my chance to yet succeed, and been all I can be.

Does God believe I'll overcome? If so, then I sure will.
But if it's true as I have feared: He didn't, doesn't still.
It's like He's waiting to concluded, still making up His mind.
And so I chase perfection vague, but know I'll never find.
If it's up to me at all, then God, just take me now.
But if by grace or greater means change me, I know not how.
If You will, or do, or can, in tears I will go on.
I'm happy in this Kingdom game to play for now a pawn.

I fear You don't believe in me. I fear You wished You cared.
And thus my fears have frozen me, and I of You am scared.
Your grace has no prerequisite, Your love abounds in joy,
But what if You were yet to quit and give up on this boy?
You won't, You've said, but nonetheless if hope is but in You,
Then I am far too far away to know what I'm to do.
So God, it's me. I'm here again with eyes so full of fear.
Wrap me in Your arms of love, and let me know You're near.


Sin's Greatest Crime

The pen bleeds black upon white page and releases pent-up humors.
Thus bleeding is the cause and aim of truth and lies and rumors.
Spoken not are all the things that minds and wills withhold.
No one dares discern the truth that we are all hurt and cold.
Today will end like yesterday, and tomorrow much the same,
But still will I be sitting here none the surer of my aim.
For all my faults and follies had I've had enough to bear,
But still they come, and ever numb, I take more than my share.
She lays on me the many things I can not standing carry.
These burdens of a hated love are wounds we do not bury.
Such is pain of heart and mind when souls fight flesh and time.
Sin has pains much worse than hell; this is its greatest crime.
Alone we are in many ways, more distant now from God
Because of all the pain inside, and for comfort but a nod.
Honestly our honesty is hardly much at all.
We've felt the need to hide and such since the moment of the Fall.


Nonviolent Surrender

“Okay, that's it. I'm done and all. Please have Your way with me.
“No longer will I strive to find my way on this life's sea.
“Of course I want the dreams You gave, and hope for significance,
“But over are the my younger days of mistrust and happenstance.
“I'm sick of finding my own way, for I am blind and frail.
“Tomorrow would be yesterday if I wrote my own tale.
“So since I live within Your world, a member of Your cast,
“Take this, my life, my everything, my future and my past.
“No longer do I wish to strive to make my life turn out.
“I'm sick of everything that fails, and how I always doubt.
“So, instead I wish to give You me, so I no longer choose the road.
“I give You worry, apathy, and You take with that my load.
“So God, I've found my many plans just bring me stress and fear.
“I give up them and the rest to rest in knowing You are near.
“You give and take, but take to give, so here my life is laid.
“I guess because I'm overwhelmed I do not feel afraid.
“Yes, yesterday I would have run, as I have since I was born,
“But tomorrow is another year, but my youth I do not mourn.
“I'm happy with where I have been, but now I must move on.
“I could not bear to end today with evening not a dawn.
“In every trial that awaits, I wish not to be the judge.
“In this, my life, I don't do well in cleaning out the sludge.
“So when problems fly so thick and fast, remember I am dead.
“Rescue me with Your great love, and lift my weary head.”


Zion Waits

A silent page looks back at me, like these silent regrets.
And all my fears are haunting me, spreading silky nets.
Because I am the way I am, I feel the things I feel.
Beware of those who say, like me: Emotions are not real.
Can such a thing begin to change: The heart of hurting men?
Cruel world it is, and so much more to be where I have been.
Dare I write of anything, for words from me just fall.
Does anything from anyone make any sense at all?
Everything has been denied, yet granted just the same.
Enjoy this life while you abide beside the lion tame.
For in a while, or yesterday, a drastic thing has passed.
Forget, forgive, and finally, forgo to wind and mast.
Give in to where this life will lead, and follow happily.
Grace and peace will be with you, along with sympathy.
How long is it before you know what purpose this has wrought?
Heaven waits to tell its tales so all comes not to naught.
Instead of lashing out in rage, or fear, or what you will,
I've found that it is better far to wait and just be still.
Just because you feel much hurt, and helpless, on your own,
Justifies your actions not, for this is not your throne.
Kindly sit there humbly, and learn what I must learn.
Kiss the hand of He who saves and you will never burn.
Learn this well, for I have not: You seek not what you want.
Laugh at me, oh if you must, but pleasure is a haunt.
Merry are the men indeed whose deeds are not in vain.
Much of what we do and say leads not to joy, but pain.
Not that we intentionally bring about such vice;
Never would we seek to be the pair of losing dice.
Of course, you see, how often we are those who draw first blood.
Oughtn't we, instead be free to dam the coming flood?
Perhaps it would be better then to live a life apart.
Persuade me if it is not so that you can keep your heart.
Quit this mad pursuit of yours to finish this begun.
Quite enough is said by now to blacken this day's sun.
Rejoin the world of yesterday, when fools were still in love.
Reject the fact that you are now left holding broken dove.
Stay in the dreams and memories that got you to this place.
Surround yourself with visions of the end of this lost race.
Try to be a saltless sea of tears that are not shed,
To make the home of all your dreams within a marriage bed.
Until the day you wake from sleep and find that all is lost,
Uproot your last restraint of will and think not what this cost.
Vanity, all vanity, to think that joy is yours.
Verily, I say to you: It's not within these shores.
Why must we be cursed to see this life as all there is?
Where has madness left us now, for we could yet be His.
Xerxes tried to replace her: Queen Vashti, cherished prize,
Yet what he got was so much more held in her Jewish eyes.
Yes, so I close with tears of joy, for beauty not yet mine.
Zion waits to welcome me, but I will take my time.



I taste you on the summer air when you pass me on the street.
I try to look into your eyes while not letting our eyes meet.
Your form, your face, your hair and hands captivate my mind.
And expression satisfactory I know I'll never find.
Yes, beauty pure, unbridled held within your shoulders soft.
So salute your prettiness; to that my hat I've doffed.
The tears are hiding behind my eyes, vast oceans to yet spill,
But they will not be shed at all, or at least until
I find a way to sing or say what in my heart and head
Has waited longing, ever long, to finally be said.
I want you not, so fear me same, but beauty I desire
Not like any lustful flame, but like Heaven's perfect fire.
My mind implodes into my soul as feelings explode like stars.
Every relationship ever had now looks to me like scars.
You hold a thing outside my grasp that I was once meant for,
And to this day, in every way, that thing seek I restore.
What it is I do not know, for never have I held
What God intends for us Above once sin has been dispelled.
So bear with me, yes, all of you, for I must bear this weight:
The crushing blow of sinfulness when glimpsing something great.