Ballast

Ballast

Stones,

Multiplied,

In weighty bulk.

I feel imprisoned by them,

Exhausted by the work they bring,

Added pressure building.

Until I realize these stones are my grounding.

By lowering myself I find I stabilize,

My release into the weight providing the strength against pervasive storms.

Deep down I plunge,

And further I rise into peace,

Wider I can see the gratitude and glory of this life.

Surrender to the Cornerstone,

The Great I Am,

Rolls away the darkness of independence.

Heart pressed upon this Tablet of Truth,

The Revealer of lies,

Crushes the head of doubt and despair.

Hands firmly planted on this Rock,

Healer over all,

Hope soars with the waves of song.

Tethered am I now to the ballast,

Deeper in,

Sweeter still,

Anchored by Sela.

Evaporate into Blessing

How deep disappointment cuts,

How it makes us bleed out failure, life, confidence.

Once we have endured the loss of blood we lie still in the waiting to heal.

It is here we begin to be able to see the gift of disappointment.

It is here we see the wonder of shattered pride for glorious humility.

It is here we hear the call of purpose beyond selfish consumption.

It is here, in the shadowed soul, that we see the covering of protection from ourselves.

In the pain of stillness we are able to begin to taste the sweetness of opportunity.

Disappointment opens the curtains to our lack.

Here we are able to enter pools of renewal to be filled.

What a wonder that disappointment has ability to evaporate into blessings.

Sculpted

To remain soft in the land of hurt,

To allow movement when pain may follow,

To continue towards being sculpted when cuts will callous and burn,

To get back up again,

Refusing to let darkness have the final word.

I understand the hate of this world,

Words,

Actions,

Betrayal,

Noise.

Heartbreak can do that sort of thing to a soul,

Leave it crying out,

Desperate to be heard,

To be protected,

To be salvaged,

Safe.

It’s much easier to create brick walls instead of inviting gardens.

It’s much easier to lay concrete instead of tending to soil.

Yet soil is where richness lies,

Where wonder, and abundance, and awestruck joy abide.

We are losing the battle for beauty,

We are losing the gift of our lives.

Oh for hands to cradle soil,

Nurture soul,

Remain soft,

Open,

Held.

Establish this work of tenderness in us oh God.

Establish this work of wonder in the midst of a weary world.

Establish this work of silent surrender to a miraculous life.