This is me. and other songs from the bumpy road.

This is Me
17 marzo 2010
This is me.
Your tiny, broken vessel.
This is me with all my defective parts
My bad attitudes,
My frustrations
And my fears.
This is me with all my foolishness,
My pride, my anger, and my shame.
This is me,
Naked in the concrete jungle
Of this broken city, of my broken life.
And you take me
In all my exhaustion and spinning.
And you set me on a rock
High above the swirling fumes
Of a smoking and burned-out dreams.
And there, in the high place,
My vessel is first emptied,
Then washed
Then fired in your heart,
Then filled
With new life.
There is only you
In me.



Early morning.
18 March 2010
This morning has the light and the temperature
Of an early summer morning
In my childhood home.
How I would love to be
Squirming awake in my old bed,
Hearing the soft breathing of little Beth
And of baby Michael
In the beds next to mine.
Creeping down the stairs
I find the front door already unlocked and propped open,
Sun beaming in.
Daddy is on the front stoop
Reading his Bible, coffee and journal in his hand.
I crawl into his lap.
Morning kiss.
Day begun the best way.



Sacrifice.
18 marzo 2010
Last night I cried myself to sleep again.
I am learning to lay down deep longings
And leave them at the cross.
And it hurts.
I need my family--they are so far—
Or I need to start one.
There is nothing so profoundly painful as loneliness.
You have me on this island
For a wonderful eternal purpose.
Sometimes I see hints
Through the joy
Of what your hands are making.
These times of surrender are calls to adjustment:
“Are you willing to lay down
Such-and-such a thing,
Or thought,
Or dream?
I will make you able…”
What you ask for, Lord,
Is not expertise, but disposition.
So I say yes,
Again and again,
Trusting that through the grief of sacrifice,
You will make yourself
Fully known.
And that brings fullness of joy
And fullness of peace.



Growing Young.
23 marzo 2010
These lines on my face—
What do they mean?
Long nights without sleeping
Long journeys without stopping
Long vigils without eating
Long
Long
Long
Without.
This flesh is temporary—
And in this, so fragile.
May my eyes
Be ever youthful
Expressive of Hope in the future
And Peace in my present,
Though my body wastes away
In the fight for freedom.
How can I be satisfied
Until Yours is the Kingdom,
The Power,
And the Glory
Forever?


Saying Yes
23 marzo 2010
Something in my heart says, “Wait,”
As I look into your eyes.
Is it insecurity, or fear
That the present vision blinds future realities?
Or am I, indeed,
The shaper of my own giant destiny,
With the power to breathe a future into being?
If I say “Yes” to what I see in God’s heart
For the Zona Oriental,
Am I saying “No”to God’s heart
for Haiti’s tent jungles?
For Chicago’s south-side ghettos?
For Kabul’s burned-out streets?
For Kenya’s over-crowded slums?
I cannot be everywhere at once.
And this is confusing.
Teach me to say “Yes” to You today
In confidence that my future in You
Is Peace
Regardless of location.
I must be still
To become Free.
My heart must rest
Even when there is noise all around me.
Teach me to say “Yes” to you in my present
Even when death surrounds me,
Even when the pain
Of the suffering little ones
Seems too Great to bear.