There's something in the way, it's in my line of sight.
It seems to be so stubborn, it's putting up a fight.
But I'll rise to the challenge and prove that I'm strong.
It's going down, you'll see, not before too long.
Whatever comes my way, I'll rise to the challenge.
Living life for what is right, into righteousness I'll plunge.
Nothing can stand in my way, my future is so bright.
I'll do it in my strength, and do it in my might.
All the while, even though I don't realize,
I'm sinking deeper, and at night my soul cries.
It's the faintest of whispers, dancing across my mind,
That says, I've believed in a lie, and I'll soon find,
If I fight alone, it's a losing battle.
But I can't face that, it will ruin my man-made castle.
With just a little gust of wind and rain.,
Nothing good in my life will remain.
However, this too is a lie I have believed.
And as long as I do, the enemy is relieved.
For He knows if I fall, and cannot stand,
God will reach down and take my hand.
Strength will flow from His heart to mine.
It won't be about me, but about Him.
On this earth He came and trod.
The paths of death and sorrow.
He shed His blood for tomorrow.
For a brighter day, and a new way.
He conquered my sin.
Soo.... this something in the way,
My God did already pay,
The price it would take to redeem.
So that I would have the freedom to dream.
And see with the eyes of faith.
Friday, August 10, 2012
When My Back is to the Light
There's pounding in my ears, like... thud thud thud.
The sound of my feet slipping through the mud,
And rain drops hitting the ground like so many beats.
There's the wind howling like a dog,
It's hard to see for all the mist and fog.
Away, away from everything I run.
No looking back, I must run.
But now the sun starts to fade, dimmer dimmer.
My chances of finding my way back are slimmer.
Because in the darkness I can't see the road.
And my legs are weakening under my load.
But gritting my teeth, and taking a breath,
Reminding myself, I'm in control, even to my death,
Away, away from everything I run.
No looking back, I must run.
Run away from the light that so easily consumes me.
Run away from forgiveness that will set me free.
Run away from love that will always satisfy me.
I run into darkness, hiding from the light?
I run into bitterness, refusing forgiveness?
I run from love, from His love that never fails me?
And as I run, it hits me, knocking the breath out of me!
Like a kaleidescope, I was all turned around.
Since when did fighting for my ambitions,
And standing for all my silly traditions,
Take the place of what I set out to do?
The very thing I want to do, is the very thing I can't.
And the very thing I do not want to do, is the thing I do.
I set out to run for Him,
And find I'm running from Him.
I set out to change the world,
And find the world has changed me.
I run towards the light,
Only to find my back is against it.
But even as the sun goes down, so it rises.
And even when I chase the sunset,
His mercies come with the blessed dawn.
The sound of my feet slipping through the mud,
And rain drops hitting the ground like so many beats.
There's the wind howling like a dog,
It's hard to see for all the mist and fog.
Away, away from everything I run.
No looking back, I must run.
But now the sun starts to fade, dimmer dimmer.
My chances of finding my way back are slimmer.
Because in the darkness I can't see the road.
And my legs are weakening under my load.
But gritting my teeth, and taking a breath,
Reminding myself, I'm in control, even to my death,
Away, away from everything I run.
No looking back, I must run.
Run away from the light that so easily consumes me.
Run away from forgiveness that will set me free.
Run away from love that will always satisfy me.
I run into darkness, hiding from the light?
I run into bitterness, refusing forgiveness?
I run from love, from His love that never fails me?
And as I run, it hits me, knocking the breath out of me!
Like a kaleidescope, I was all turned around.
Since when did fighting for my ambitions,
And standing for all my silly traditions,
Take the place of what I set out to do?
The very thing I want to do, is the very thing I can't.
And the very thing I do not want to do, is the thing I do.
I set out to run for Him,
And find I'm running from Him.
I set out to change the world,
And find the world has changed me.
I run towards the light,
Only to find my back is against it.
But even as the sun goes down, so it rises.
And even when I chase the sunset,
His mercies come with the blessed dawn.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
White, Black or..... Red?
My hair might confuse you,
My eyes tend to fool you,
My accent won't give me away,
You can't know by what I say.
The color of my skin,
Does not tell the story within,
You would never know,
Because it's doesn't really show,
Even now I'm where "I belong",
But I don't feel so strong.
I want to go home,
On my heart God's sewn,
Africa
I know I may not look African,
But I still drink tea every day,
And those cravings for Ug,
Oh yes, those definitely are there.
And those little phrases I still say,
Like, "Ati what?" and "Hayaye!"
Because I'm Kenyan.
For it heart still seems to beat,
And every single time I breath,
I miss every single thing.
I used to fight the fact that I'm so white,
And I can still put up a fight,
To anyone who would challenge me.
Because they only sum up what they see.
Moving away from where I'm from,
Wasn't easy and it wasn't fun.
I wanted to scream at the differences,
I would cringe in certain instances.
I will not conform, I will not change,
I'm African,
I'm Kenyan!
But the longer I'm here,
The more my hand tightens it's grip
I don't want to let go for fear,
That if I do, I'll realize this isn't a trip.
It's not a visit, but I'm here.
I will have to face reality,
Which is... that I can be both.
I can be Kenyan.
I can be American.
And yet these are surfacy things,
They don't make me, me.
It's neither the color of my eyes or my hair,
The color of my skin, that's fair.
It's not the way that I talk,
Or the way in which I walk.
It's not about whether I can speak Swahili,
Knowing that Sunday is Jumapili.
It's not even about how much tea I drink,
Or the cultural context in which I think.
Because these things of which I speak,
Only tell an external story,
Of a white girl who claims to be black.
Those are only outcomes of the girl within,
For every present there's a gift.
And on the inside I'm neither black nor white.
I'd like to think I'm red....
Washed by the blood of the Lamb.
That's what defines me.
I'm a daughter of the King,
In Him is my identity,
And outside of that fact,
My eyes tend to fool you,
My accent won't give me away,
You can't know by what I say.
The color of my skin,
Does not tell the story within,
You would never know,
Because it's doesn't really show,
Even now I'm where "I belong",
But I don't feel so strong.
I want to go home,
On my heart God's sewn,
Africa
I know I may not look African,
But I still drink tea every day,
And those cravings for Ug,
Oh yes, those definitely are there.
And those little phrases I still say,
Like, "Ati what?" and "Hayaye!"
Because I'm Kenyan.
For it heart still seems to beat,
And every single time I breath,
I miss every single thing.
I used to fight the fact that I'm so white,
And I can still put up a fight,
To anyone who would challenge me.
Because they only sum up what they see.
Moving away from where I'm from,
Wasn't easy and it wasn't fun.
I wanted to scream at the differences,
I would cringe in certain instances.
I will not conform, I will not change,
I'm African,
I'm Kenyan!
But the longer I'm here,
The more my hand tightens it's grip
I don't want to let go for fear,
That if I do, I'll realize this isn't a trip.
It's not a visit, but I'm here.
I will have to face reality,
Which is... that I can be both.
I can be Kenyan.
I can be American.
And yet these are surfacy things,
They don't make me, me.
It's neither the color of my eyes or my hair,
The color of my skin, that's fair.
It's not the way that I talk,
Or the way in which I walk.
It's not about whether I can speak Swahili,
Knowing that Sunday is Jumapili.
It's not even about how much tea I drink,
Or the cultural context in which I think.
Because these things of which I speak,
Only tell an external story,
Of a white girl who claims to be black.
Those are only outcomes of the girl within,
For every present there's a gift.
And on the inside I'm neither black nor white.
I'd like to think I'm red....
Washed by the blood of the Lamb.
That's what defines me.
I'm a daughter of the King,
In Him is my identity,
And outside of that fact,
I don't have to worry about a thing.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
The Circus
Colors shoot out and hit their mark.
The lights drawing them in like flies.
Cheers, clapping, laughter... all sending a message.
This is fun! This is life! This is where it's at!
It's the circus.
People with faces made of plastic,
Faces that seem to smile,
But only because of paint,
And not because of heart.
They do it for their guests,
They must draw them in,
And they must keep them coming back.
It's the circus.
But let me not get ahead of myself,
For there is much more to this place,
Than just the clowns with their masks.
There are dancers who sway back and forth,
Lulling spectators into a sense of calm.
Acrobats who walk a thin line,
Saying, "You can do it just like me!
It's not hard, and you don't need any help!"
And the music... the music!
Such a key element to the circus.
It's like the oil that makes a machine run,
The wind that makes the windmills turn.
It captivates each guests' mind.
Filling it with euphoria and abandon.
And blinding them to the real story.
What is the real story?
It takes place when all the guests are gone.
The clowns all breath a sigh of relief,
Winding down like a wind up toys.
The masks come off, the dancers stop,
The acrobat falls, the music comes to a stop,
And the lights... the colors go dim.
What is left is nothing, nothing at all.
Just a facade...
For under the masks of the clowns are real faces.
Faces that frown.
And the lights are not real,
But can be turned off with a switch.
When the dancers stop, so does the "peace".
The circus is like one large magician.
It fakes reality,
By creating an illusion.
But my heart goes out to the guests,
Who tell their friends what reality is:
They say with excitement in their eyes.
"It's the circus."
The lights drawing them in like flies.
Cheers, clapping, laughter... all sending a message.
This is fun! This is life! This is where it's at!
It's the circus.
People with faces made of plastic,
Faces that seem to smile,
But only because of paint,
And not because of heart.
They do it for their guests,
They must draw them in,
And they must keep them coming back.
It's the circus.
But let me not get ahead of myself,
For there is much more to this place,
Than just the clowns with their masks.
There are dancers who sway back and forth,
Lulling spectators into a sense of calm.
Acrobats who walk a thin line,
Saying, "You can do it just like me!
It's not hard, and you don't need any help!"
And the music... the music!
Such a key element to the circus.
It's like the oil that makes a machine run,
The wind that makes the windmills turn.
It captivates each guests' mind.
Filling it with euphoria and abandon.
And blinding them to the real story.
What is the real story?
It takes place when all the guests are gone.
The clowns all breath a sigh of relief,
Winding down like a wind up toys.
The masks come off, the dancers stop,
The acrobat falls, the music comes to a stop,
And the lights... the colors go dim.
What is left is nothing, nothing at all.
Just a facade...
For under the masks of the clowns are real faces.
Faces that frown.
And the lights are not real,
But can be turned off with a switch.
When the dancers stop, so does the "peace".
The circus is like one large magician.
It fakes reality,
By creating an illusion.
But my heart goes out to the guests,
Who tell their friends what reality is:
They say with excitement in their eyes.
"It's the circus."
Monday, May 7, 2012
Choose Life
Just a whisper through the trees,
The leaves dance to the tune of the breeze.
Just a candle through the night,
The darkness hides from the light.
Just one word spoken with malice,
And the heart can form a callous.
Just a thought in the mind of a child,
Forms a dream so big and wild.
But with just a small taste of "reality",
It can shrivel up and die in totality.
Small things, little things.
So many times considered unimportant,
But whether given with medicine or poison
They're always potent.
One moment can be the difference between...
Light or dark,
Good or bad,
Heaven or hell,
Life or death.
"I am now giving you the choice between life and death, between God's blessing and God's curse, and I will call heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Choose life!"
Deuteronomy 30:19
The leaves dance to the tune of the breeze.
Just a candle through the night,
The darkness hides from the light.
Just one word spoken with malice,
And the heart can form a callous.
Just a thought in the mind of a child,
Forms a dream so big and wild.
But with just a small taste of "reality",
It can shrivel up and die in totality.
Small things, little things.
So many times considered unimportant,
But whether given with medicine or poison
They're always potent.
One moment can be the difference between...
Light or dark,
Good or bad,
Heaven or hell,
Life or death.
"I am now giving you the choice between life and death, between God's blessing and God's curse, and I will call heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Choose life!"
Deuteronomy 30:19
Monday, March 12, 2012
Shred it, Destroy it, Burn it, Kill it
Tear it apart, to build it back up again.
Shred it, destroy it, burn it, kill it.
Who knew a little crack in the wall,
Could be the result of a serious flaw.
Something was wrong from the start,
It went down all the way to my heart.
Buried so deep, I'm the master of disguise.
I'm dumb as a sheep, because I gave into the lies.
All God has to do is lay His little pinky
And though it may be a little stinky,
All the junk comes oozing out.
But nothing in me is allowed to pout,
After all, I couldn't stand it,
So I asked Him to shred it, destroy it, burn it, kill it.
Shred it with Your Mighty hand.
Destroy it by Your Sovereign power.
Burn it in Your Holy fire.
Kill it with Your gentle Spirit.
So why should I be surprised
When my weaknesses begin to arise,
They rise to the surface,
Moving towards the furnace.
I try to let go, but I want to hang on,
I've gotten comfortable with the pain,
Don't want to live without the stain,
Without them the difference would be stark.
They've truly become my trademark.
He gives me a look, like that of a parent.
And all of the sudden my sin becomes apparent.
I won't live in shame, or fear, or regret.
But I'll keep on asking it:
Shred it, destroy it, burn it, kill it.
Tear it up, to build it back up again.
Shred it, destroy it, burn it, kill it.
Who knew a little crack in the wall,
Could be the result of a serious flaw.
Something was wrong from the start,
It went down all the way to my heart.
Buried so deep, I'm the master of disguise.
I'm dumb as a sheep, because I gave into the lies.
All God has to do is lay His little pinky
And though it may be a little stinky,
All the junk comes oozing out.
But nothing in me is allowed to pout,
After all, I couldn't stand it,
So I asked Him to shred it, destroy it, burn it, kill it.
Shred it with Your Mighty hand.
Destroy it by Your Sovereign power.
Burn it in Your Holy fire.
Kill it with Your gentle Spirit.
So why should I be surprised
When my weaknesses begin to arise,
They rise to the surface,
Moving towards the furnace.
I try to let go, but I want to hang on,
I've gotten comfortable with the pain,
Don't want to live without the stain,
Without them the difference would be stark.
They've truly become my trademark.
He gives me a look, like that of a parent.
And all of the sudden my sin becomes apparent.
I won't live in shame, or fear, or regret.
But I'll keep on asking it:
Shred it, destroy it, burn it, kill it.
Tear it up, to build it back up again.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Psalm 28:13 "I am confident of this. I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."
Wait. What an awful word.... that's exactly what I thought when I read this verse. I read it in the middle of this kind of prayer. See if you can identify with it. "Lord, I pray that you would show me what you want me to do. Jesus, I want to be used by You. Come and give me a work. Show me what You want me to do. At least give me a little encouragement. I'm desperate for You!" Sounds familiar? Oh and this is during a time when you are full of doubt, turmoil, loneliness. All you need is for God to say SOMETHING! And..... then He gives you Psalm 28:13. Wait. That's the Word. Wait, and seek My face. Be strong, take heart, and wait for Me. That's what God said to me at the beginning of the year. Waiting can bring out the worst in us. Have you ever been waiting in a doctor's office for hours before? First, you decide you're going to keep yourself really busy texting or reading. When that gets out you tap our foot against the floor impatiently, our eyes dart back and forth. After an hour goes by, you make a path in the floor, and thoughts are running wild, thinking... why is it taking this long? Finally you go up to the front desk, and ask his receptionist why it's taking so long. When she smiles calmly and says, "Just 2 more minutes", you feel like smacking her in the face. Waiting is the best thing God uses to reveal our sin to us. If our lives were perfect all the time, we'd probably get a little too comfortable with our sin. One thing about this illustration that I find interesting is that we try to stay busy to make the waiting period go by faster. We don't want to think about the fact that we're waiting. We can even prolong the waiting period by staying busy, because God wants us to come to the end of ourselves. Another thing that occurred to me when I read this verse was that, in order to wait for the Lord, I have to be in a place and position to wait for Him. I can't wait to see the doctor, if I'm sitting at home and refuse to go to his office. I'm definitely in this season of waiting. God just keeps putting it on my heart to stay in His presence. He says, "Wait for me. I'm coming. I have a work to do in this season, but just be strong and wait." And if you're reading this, be strong. Take heart! Wait on Him. Don't try and be busy with other things. Let Him work on You while you wait. We will see the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait. What an awful word.... that's exactly what I thought when I read this verse. I read it in the middle of this kind of prayer. See if you can identify with it. "Lord, I pray that you would show me what you want me to do. Jesus, I want to be used by You. Come and give me a work. Show me what You want me to do. At least give me a little encouragement. I'm desperate for You!" Sounds familiar? Oh and this is during a time when you are full of doubt, turmoil, loneliness. All you need is for God to say SOMETHING! And..... then He gives you Psalm 28:13. Wait. That's the Word. Wait, and seek My face. Be strong, take heart, and wait for Me. That's what God said to me at the beginning of the year. Waiting can bring out the worst in us. Have you ever been waiting in a doctor's office for hours before? First, you decide you're going to keep yourself really busy texting or reading. When that gets out you tap our foot against the floor impatiently, our eyes dart back and forth. After an hour goes by, you make a path in the floor, and thoughts are running wild, thinking... why is it taking this long? Finally you go up to the front desk, and ask his receptionist why it's taking so long. When she smiles calmly and says, "Just 2 more minutes", you feel like smacking her in the face. Waiting is the best thing God uses to reveal our sin to us. If our lives were perfect all the time, we'd probably get a little too comfortable with our sin. One thing about this illustration that I find interesting is that we try to stay busy to make the waiting period go by faster. We don't want to think about the fact that we're waiting. We can even prolong the waiting period by staying busy, because God wants us to come to the end of ourselves. Another thing that occurred to me when I read this verse was that, in order to wait for the Lord, I have to be in a place and position to wait for Him. I can't wait to see the doctor, if I'm sitting at home and refuse to go to his office. I'm definitely in this season of waiting. God just keeps putting it on my heart to stay in His presence. He says, "Wait for me. I'm coming. I have a work to do in this season, but just be strong and wait." And if you're reading this, be strong. Take heart! Wait on Him. Don't try and be busy with other things. Let Him work on You while you wait. We will see the Lord in the land of the living.
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