I can see hands in my head,
they can lift and build,
they can mold and sculpt
they can empty and fill.

This man in my head,
he can lead and love,
he can trust and wait.
He doesn’t; he does.

He knows how to finish,
He knows when to quit.
He labors long
For provision, he’s fit.

His name is,
An able man.

This maturity,
-this man I would be!
From thought into action,
Wish, to reality,

Beyond my scope.
So, in Christ my Lord,
I must place my hope.

this work in me.
All through Christ,
and FOR God’s glory!

I’m only able to lead,
As I’m able to be led.
I cling to God-inspired
Words I have read:

“…it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure.”

and to do.

“And he that taketh not his cross,
and followeth after Me,
is not worthy of Me.
He that findeth his life shall lose it:
and he that
loseth his life for My sake shall find it.”

Loseth his life
-For My sake-
Shall find it
-For My sake-

I’m such a small man, Jesus…
Please, make me useful
in You,
to You,
through You,
with You,

Humble me!
Sweep it all away,
-whatever I,
in arrogance, may

Try to tell myself,
would be fitting or good.
I don’t want merely, “Can,”
I yearn for servanthood!


Love will Weave…

January 23, 2011

A tender sight,
a softness in the seeing,
A warmth, like sun,
to hear your gentle soul,

Words all-lived,
and promises, revealing
fair hopes
all blooming, bright,
with voices, full.

A thought: the Gardener,
I have long-loved, now,
and yet of
I had not known.

How fitting to,
through beauty,
like a garden,
remember, ’tis not good
man be alone.

But… how will meager,
man among ten thousands!
now catch, ever, the eye,
of blush-ed Eve?

Rest in, and serve, the God
who both will guide you
and has roused
to life, a helper.

Love will weave.


November 16, 2010

I’m such a clumsy farmer,
I’m such a simple
Simple, sundry-pseudo-skilled.
Sans serif certain-plan.

Yet, faith you find within this frame?
Though, few have fully figured
Father-God -Who formed me thus-
Does, frequent infidelity, allow.

A Chariot… And For What?

October 7, 2010

I chased those clouds

Of loneliness,

And in a fit

Of selfishness

I built a chariot of words

In which I rode to woo,

With which I also rode to break,

The heart of

The very-same



Gave His son to death,

for me.

Breath is taken when I look back

and see…

As tears of spirit fall

From eyes of knowing grief,

I beg my God -my Father-

“Help my unbelief!”

Knowing that is only half,

Knowing that knowing isn’t all I need.

My will -oh feeble, slic-ed man!

My will, God, must be freed.

My chains have fallen,

But oh how often

I pick them up,

-and what? to see

How nice they look

All tripping me?

Be the bridge,

Move these legs,

Be my want,


Your hedge

Around my heart,

Against those lies.

Be my vision.

Through these eyes,

Oh- to ever-see

Through the mystery,

To walk with You in my heart!

So many a word,

That I know You’ve heard,

Now I’m asking, can we start?


I made the Man of Sorrows sorry
By all my foolish lies
I drove the nails, I raised the cross
I was the reason that He died

Utterly unfaithful then
I added anger to my sin
In a world already dark to me
I closed my eyes and would not see

So I may kick and I may scream
Say many things I do not mean
Hold blindly to what is not true
But I will not walk away from You

Just why I choose to disobey
I simply cannot tell
Why I blame You when I rebel
And weep for wounds I give myself

Then screaming at an empty sky
I search for You and wonder why
Though I cause You so much agony
You refuse to walk away from me

Don’t read me pointless poems, friend
Don’t diagnose, don’t condescend,
Though you may be right to disagree
I need someone who’ll weep with me

-Michael Card

Sigh… (Dear Jesus… Thanks… =)


December 31, 2009

“I came to the end of myself I suppose.”

 “A man can be whatever he wants… you said.”

“I’m sorry. I thought it was true.”

 “A man can do whatever he wants. You said!”

“He can… but he can’t WANT what he wants…”