Tears

There was not but space and sky

You spread Your arms and You declared:

“Let there be light.”

The skies obeyed,

Both night and day

The earth and waters moved and took Your breath away.

And as You stood and saw that it was good

Did You cry the first satisfied

Tears?

You made the man

And from his rib

You fashioned her that would become the best of him.

And as they lay, lost inside each other’s gaze,

From their eyes overwhelmed and glorified

Tears.

They shrank beneath

The cursed leaves

Hiding from what they both knew that You could see.

They’d traded faith

For lust and hate

And found themselves accursed,

Forbidden from Your gates.

And on Your face

As You watched them walk away

Heaven’s first brokenhearted

Tears.

As time continues centuries had fallen underneath your sovereign gaze

You watched us fail You, curse You, Hate you

While You walked beside us all the way.

If the tears we’d shed together could be kept inside a jar

Would the oceans overflow until the water touched the stars?

Tears of joy

Tears of relief

Tears of turmoil

Tears of peace

Tears for loss

Tears for pain

Tears we cry when we’ve regained

Tears of God

Tears of men

Tears when we leave and find You once again.

Tears…

When You were nailed

To a broken tree

How many tears were shed when You’d forgiven me?

You saw my sin

And took me still

You said “I’ve loved You always,

And I always will.”

And on my face

As I bend beneath Your grace

A sinner’s redeemed and grateful

Tears.

Ooh….

And when we stand

Before Your throne

And hear Your whispered words,

“Beloved, welcome home.”

…Tears….

…Tears.

Tears.

Boxes

Sitting in a small space

On the carpet of a little bedroom

Packing my life up

In boxes, moving into another season

In this box goes the clothing

I wore on a first date that still sort of fits

Unlike the one I wore them for.

In that box are the keepsakes

Awards and trophies, mostly for

Knowing and performing the perfect song.

In this box are the shoes that

Have traveled the world with me –

the flip-flops I wore the

Last time my feet felt the ocean.

the sneakers that tasted

the streets of England and Italy.

The high heels that walked down

The aisle when my best friend married her

True love – the same pair

That followed the casket that carried my daddy’s father.

Packed up and taped down

And carried out of this place.

In this box the letters he sent me

From far too far away

The post cards from places I wish I could have seen

with my own eyes.

In that box are the books that

Carry me so very far away

Engulfed in the images

That hold me close for hours and hours.

And in that box are the notebooks

And the journals and the lyrics

To all the songs and all the stories

And all my thoughts and all my queries

The drawings, the sketches

Those things which helped me heal.

…

And in this box are the things that

I know I can’t take with me.

My fingers brush the edges

Before I tape them down.

The pictures, the outfits,

The curtains, the little things that no one else knows

The stories that bear their pricelessness.

And in this box are the prayers that

I’ll hold onto until they’re answered.

In boxes with flowers along the frame.

And in that box are the praises

I never want to let go of.

Thanking a God who loves me so well

Wrapped up in boxes

Packed up in boxes

Stacked up on boxes

Stored up in boxes.

Sitting on the floor of

A blue box with chocolate trim.

No longer my box

But an empty space for someone else to fill.

Letters

Let 

Each one scatter across the floor

The letters we've exchanged over the years

Tiny slivers of glass which form the mosaic of who we

Each have become along the way

Remnants of our pasts and 

Subtle hints and musings of an uncertain future.

I still have all of your letters.

Lovers exchanging glances, not with their 

Eyes, but with every word penned,

Thousands of descriptors to capture the subtlest of gazes.

Truths
Embroidered throughout the empty page
Rendered from unhindered hearts and a God whose

Story we both were telling, each in our own way.

I still have all of your letters.

Let
Each one scatter across the floor as 

The words I suddenly search for 

Teeter over the tip of my tongue, but never reach the pen in my hand.

Even if I knew what I should say to you,
Reminders of our last conversation

Still bind my hands, my tongue, my heart. 

Wordless, speechless...
I still have all of your letters. 

Letters begin to pour out of the pen

Eloquent and endless professions of forgiveness,

The boundaries which cannot be crossed

The friendship I pray that I haven't lost, and

Even if you decide to walk away

Regretting that you knew me, despising the years this has taken

Still you must know what will remain ever true

I still have all of your letters.

Stomach Drop

You know the feeling – that sensation of falling

That can wake you out of a dead sleep

You’re falling fast

Hard

Unstoppable

The air blowing past your face at excruciating speed

Until finally you awake in your bed

Safe and sound

Falling without falling.

This feeling akin to the tingle in your abdomen

When you’re sitting at the top of a roller coaster

That one fateful instant before the plunge.

The same sensation as diving head-first off of a three-meter board

The moment before you crash into the waters below.

Or perhaps the moment you take the racing platform

an instant before the gun sounds

And you plummet into the water

To give everything you have away for the sake of gold.

You know the feeling

As you take the stage for a song or a sermon

When all eyes are upon you,

Anxiously expecting greatness –

will they be disappointed with what they see?

It’s that near-miss, dodged-a-bullet feeling

You get as you barely avoid a collision.

Or perhaps it’s that feeling when worlds collide,

Plans fall apart

To make way for something better.

Something unexpected.

Where you expected a kiss, you were met with a fist-bump

Where you hoped for a hug, friendly banter took its place.

You wonder – should I be disappointed?

Everything you’ve experienced tells you that you should be

Everything inside agrees, save that still small voice that whispers

“No.”

“No, sweetheart. This was my plan all along.”

And you can’t be disappointed,

You don’t even need to pray through it anymore

Because the pain you were expecting never showed up.

Where you sought a lover

You found a brother

Where you sought silver

You found platinum or gold

Where you sought sustenance

You found a feast.

Was it the feast you were expecting?

The menu you’d planned?

No.

But the King who extended the invitation

Guessed in advance the things you would need

And provided bountifully,

Beautifully.

And all you can do is stand in awe at the banquet table,

Musing to yourself how could He have ever guessed this was what you were craving all along?

Pure, unadulterated affection

Friendship

Companionship

The ability to trust

To love

To hope

To accept

To be content.

And these realizations flood you

Overwhelming your system

And your soul

Crashing one after the other

Into your heart

Filling you with gladness, saturating your being with peace

Though not what you were expecting.

And all you know is that you thought you were jumping

You thought you were falling

And yet before you hit the water

Before you crashed to the bottom

Your King awakened you

With a jolt

An epiphany

A moment

A flash

A stomach drop.