could I be better than this?
it's like I never forget
what it's like to begin.
I'm at the disadvantage
of viewing the world
from inside my own head.
I've supplied my apathetic best
let her fly out from her nest
she flew longer than the rest
but now we're wondering
how life up high can feel so dead
Heaven is coming soon.
but am I ready?
Jerusalem is coming soon
but no one is ready.
is this supposed to be wealth?
as if the clothes that I have
could redeem men from hell.
so when I land in the grave
I want to know that I gave
what I could to Your name.
Redeemer, please don't spit me out
lukewarm from Your mouth
into the unforgiving drought
Jesus, show me
how life held high can not fall dead.
Heaven is coming soon.
but am I ready?
Jerusalem is coming soon
but no one is ready.
when You ride in
on that white horse
let it not be said that I was lukewarm.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Rise of the Lefthander
Judges 3:12-30 is the inspiration here. One of my favorite moments in the Bible. It may or may not also have something to do with the fact that I am left handed...
Forget what you know.
I don't know what to expect.
They'll never give me a second thought.
If they had their way,
I wouldn't breathe another breath.
Who am I to Judge?
The Hand of God should act through this?
This body is a handicap.
This "man" I am, is stunted, worthless.
Forget what you know.
He chooses those who are small and slow.
Warriors and sages can just stay home.
Forget what you know.
These kings, these gluttons.
They enslave to fill their bellies.
Consume. More power.
Decree. Devour.
Give them a little something to digest
Bypass the throat and all the rest
Plunge in the blade they can't resist
They will be judged for the lives they wreck.
I am a witness to the rise of the lefthander.
to the war of the blind and deaf.
So the kings can't help but remember
The name of Him who they cannot match.
the useless shall be used.
the forgotten shall be remembered.
the inept shall become the best.
and the weak shall become the fearless.
This is the rise of the lefthander.
This is the war of the blind and deaf.
So the world can't help but remember
The name of Him who they cannot match.
An eighteen inch blade with two sharp sides,
strapped tight to my right thigh.
it's got a message from God inscribed
to be delivered to these "kings' " insides.
But I've fought this war long enough to know
Courage is never the same when you're away from home
So God of the weak, lefthanded, and tired,
Give me Your courage when mine has expired.
Forget what you know.
I don't know what to expect.
They'll never give me a second thought.
If they had their way,
I wouldn't breathe another breath.
Who am I to Judge?
The Hand of God should act through this?
This body is a handicap.
This "man" I am, is stunted, worthless.
Forget what you know.
He chooses those who are small and slow.
Warriors and sages can just stay home.
Forget what you know.
These kings, these gluttons.
They enslave to fill their bellies.
Consume. More power.
Decree. Devour.
Give them a little something to digest
Bypass the throat and all the rest
Plunge in the blade they can't resist
They will be judged for the lives they wreck.
I am a witness to the rise of the lefthander.
to the war of the blind and deaf.
So the kings can't help but remember
The name of Him who they cannot match.
the useless shall be used.
the forgotten shall be remembered.
the inept shall become the best.
and the weak shall become the fearless.
This is the rise of the lefthander.
This is the war of the blind and deaf.
So the world can't help but remember
The name of Him who they cannot match.
An eighteen inch blade with two sharp sides,
strapped tight to my right thigh.
it's got a message from God inscribed
to be delivered to these "kings' " insides.
But I've fought this war long enough to know
Courage is never the same when you're away from home
So God of the weak, lefthanded, and tired,
Give me Your courage when mine has expired.
The Vibrant
You want the colors to explode.
You want to see the mountains dance.
but you gotta see it through.
black can't hold a second
against the pastels in your brain.
but they never stay the same
you never give them names,
you never walk them out
or let them stay.
Substantiate.
plant the seed.
fight the soil.
watch the sky all day,
and you'll never see a thing.
Substantiate.
Your lust for life is lackluster.
how can you claim so much fire,
but never light a thing?
you tell us of the songs of Heaven
but you never even sing.
Your lust for life is lackluster.
Substantiate.
You want to see the mountains dance.
but you gotta see it through.
black can't hold a second
against the pastels in your brain.
but they never stay the same
you never give them names,
you never walk them out
or let them stay.
Substantiate.
plant the seed.
fight the soil.
watch the sky all day,
and you'll never see a thing.
Substantiate.
Your lust for life is lackluster.
how can you claim so much fire,
but never light a thing?
you tell us of the songs of Heaven
but you never even sing.
Your lust for life is lackluster.
Substantiate.
As You Were
This was never supposed to be me. I swear, I swear, I swear.
Walk through darkened door frames
paying no mind to the broken glass
accompanying fragments of your past
that invite themselves into my feet.
Crawl under blood-soaked sheets,
and make believe…
"This is as real as it gets.
the sun doesn't need my light to see."
I never saw my hands in the pitch black
rotting away from me.
God, am I even a man?
I've tried to be a child again.
I got what I wanted,
but I don't want what I have.
As you were.
don't mind at all.
Carry on becoming beautiful.
As you were.
leave me to resolve
the pain I am and the man I haven't been.
won't You stop loving me?
I could never forget.
something I could never be
is alone.
crawl under blood-soaked sheets,
and make believe...
I have painted the walls with the souls of us all
and left them to dry without a word
(could You ever stop loving me?)
I walked out the door, pulling the curtain behind
and buried the rest in the dirt
(I could never forget.)
I went through the streets like a man without need
with the child curling up in my throat
(something I could never be)
The war in my heart chose to bleed from my hands
along with the words I never wrote
(I could never be alone.)
As you were.
leave me to resolve
the pain I am and the man I haven't been
As you were.
Don't mind at all.
I know Grace is beautiful.
and I could never be alone.
Walk through darkened door frames
paying no mind to the broken glass
accompanying fragments of your past
that invite themselves into my feet.
Crawl under blood-soaked sheets,
and make believe…
"This is as real as it gets.
the sun doesn't need my light to see."
I never saw my hands in the pitch black
rotting away from me.
God, am I even a man?
I've tried to be a child again.
I got what I wanted,
but I don't want what I have.
As you were.
don't mind at all.
Carry on becoming beautiful.
As you were.
leave me to resolve
the pain I am and the man I haven't been.
won't You stop loving me?
I could never forget.
something I could never be
is alone.
crawl under blood-soaked sheets,
and make believe...
I have painted the walls with the souls of us all
and left them to dry without a word
(could You ever stop loving me?)
I walked out the door, pulling the curtain behind
and buried the rest in the dirt
(I could never forget.)
I went through the streets like a man without need
with the child curling up in my throat
(something I could never be)
The war in my heart chose to bleed from my hands
along with the words I never wrote
(I could never be alone.)
As you were.
leave me to resolve
the pain I am and the man I haven't been
As you were.
Don't mind at all.
I know Grace is beautiful.
and I could never be alone.
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