Goodbyes, I do not like goodbyes.
“Goodbye” to those I love − it hurts.
To you? Well, I never wanted to say “hello,” to you.
Imposter, you try to make me believe a lie.
But you are not my family,
you are not my friend,
you are not my love,
though you have tried to be all of these.
You cleared out a place at my table for yourself,
but you have no right to be here.
Go away, just
go and don’t come back.
From the first forbidden hello,
I am hoping and praying
this will be the last goodbye.
The most destructive things often start out as something so small, that we think it is harmless, or even pretty. That is a dangerous and destructive miscalculation, but not entirely hopeless, if we want to escape. Even ashes make good fertilizer for better things.
Won’t go out candle.
My own forest fire −
from a candle.
I thought I could blow you out.
You were a candle, after all.
But you planted your wick
I could not blow you out.
(Forest fires often have small
this morning I saw clouds
painted with sunrise.
Tonight I saw a tiny sliver
of silver moon.
You were not expecting that spring beauty
to bloom, were you?
Neither was I.
But I’ll tell you what −
it’s a beautiful flower.
How dare you say that you understand?
you are Jesus, the Christ.
you are perfect,
you always have been perfect,
you always will be perfect.
your love for me is foreign already, but your understanding?
I am a mess.
I always have been a mess.
I always will be a mess.
How could you possibly know what it means
to be helpless and without hope −
you’ve never been separated from your father,
your hearts are carved
from the same living stone, you could probably
time his heartbeat
by checking your own pulse.
I have never heard my dad’s heartbeat.
You say there is nothing
I’ve suffered that you haven’t
also borne and yet it’s your father who said
“This is My beloved Son in whom
I am well pleased.”
Every single step of your life −
his power through your hands,
his character through your own,
his face −
always shining toward his beloved son.
Even at the cross, right? I mean
you guys are two peas in a pod, there’s no way
your dad would leave you when you needed him
You gotta be kidding me nobody ever
told me about that part. That’s not supposed to
happen God can’t just split
apart what doYou mean He turned His face
You are perfect.
You’re not the mess − I’m the mess.
I’m the one that should know brokenness,
But You were broken, helpless, hopeless,
alone − and You couldn’t find
Your Father anymore than I can find
Forgive me, it was I
who did not understand.
Real real real real looks real isn’t real is this –
Right right right right true correct maybe not is this –
“Well…it depends… ya know.
We’ll just call this the genuine fake reality show.
What are you soworried about?
The sequel is even better, even more
intense. Come on, c’mon hurry up!
Let’s go watch it before
you change your mind.”
The picture was shot that shoots my mind.
Anything to get away.
Lub dub, lub dub,
All gone, all gone, all
this would be good.
I hate this.
I’m going home.
It’s bedtime anyway.
Go sleep on it.
I’ll even tuck you in.”
Think think think think
Dream dream dream dream
Was that –
“Well… it depends. Ya never know.
But didja see that?
Swapping dreams for shame is as easy as
pulling a coin out of a kid’s ear.”
What I did not realize at the beginning of all this, was that in searching for something to fill me from pornography and other things, it was like giving a thirsty and dehydrated person saltwater to drink. It only worsens their thirst. It takes a while to realize and actually believe that fresh water exists.
Oh… hello, it’s you –
Empty peddler with Nothing to sell, you!
you charge a mighty high price
Didn’t you see the sign on my door?
But silly me I forgot
you never have paid attention
to those signs. You never pay anyone
Instead, you sell us
Nothing – for our pain and loneliness,
Nothing – to fill our happiness
and stretch our peace till it erupts,
into a million meaningless shards.
This one thing you do,
and do you ever do it well
you evil genius of an empty peddler.
Time after time you drove
up and down my streets like an ice cream truck.
And I skipped out to meet you
to give you my everything
for your Nothing.
And now you’re back –
Shut up, no need
I know exactly what you’re after:
All of me.
But I don’t have
anything left to give you.
Because when I gave God
He gave me His everything.
When I try
to do this one thing – His one thing –
I do it terribly, but God –
He does it perfectly.
He has said that
“hello” to Him means
“goodbye” to everyone else.
So let’s practice:
Water – flowing
I drink, I bathe, I swim –
in water. Yes,
water is life.
But I cannot grasp
it, I cannot grasp
I plunge in my hands –
they come up empty, glistening
wet in the sun.
but too small to encompass
the ocean, too
small to hold
I see your face emerging cautiously
from the boulder – you look tired.
When will you be complete?
Crowds pass you by, looking for the views
at the mountaintop. There is nothing
about a lichen – covered boulder, caressed
by trees and wind, but I have heard that
the creation of a masterpiece is a solitary process*
not to be seen by the rushing crowds.
So we will wait, you and I,
until the last imperfection
has been chiseled off
and the last torrential rain
has washed us clean, and then
we will live.
*reference to the book Hind’s Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard