"Yeah...I'm not ready for this next step."
"That's fine. I'm a patient kind of God."
"Why do you want me to do this? Of all people?"
"Well, I'll answer your question with My own."
"What's that?"
"Why shouldn't I want you to do this?"
"How much time do you have?"
"Truthfully? All the time in the world. And More."
"Well, I lie, I hide, my past relationships incurred A LOT of baggage, I compare myself to others, and I'm kind of a whore. I doubt, I worry, my feelings rule my life, and did I mention I'm a whore?!"
"Yes. You mentioned that once or twice. As God of this universe, I have the ability to count. It's pretty sweet. Anyway, I don't buy it. I knew all this before you did. What else you got?"
"Well,-"
"I'm stopping you there. You're being critical about my creation, and it offends Me. You: I made you in My image. You accept & perpetuate lies that become believable, and it tests my patience.
You say you're a whore. You're self-aware, and I mean to encourage you when I say you're closer to me than you think. You're in like company. There are people who yell louder in response to a touchdown, a head shot, or a Pokemon evolving more than they ever did when they were playing the frozen chosen in a church. There are people who squeal in delight at a shore clearance sale, a decorative throw pillow blowout, or a pregnancy more than they do when they make time to even talk to Me. Not with Me, but to Me: the God who made the cow that was killed for the leather of the shoes being sold, the God who made the cotton to fill those superfluous throw pillows, and the God that procured the orgasm from nothing so they actually have some foresight in regards to that pregnancy!
The truth is, you all have something in common: your priorities don't include me. I love you enough to tell you I've never been okay with this; neglect & disobedience will be unacceptable at all times. At one time, you chose Me; you then opted to become a slave of men. You are all adulteresses, and My collective bride deserves a divorce from me, but I love you all too much to sign the papers.
You've listed, very adequately mind you, your weaknesses that would prevent you from doing what I'm inviting you to join me in. It only showcases your doubt & self-pity. Focus on my grace rather than your inadequacy. And you're right. You can't... alone. Trust in me. I'm not going to fail you."
"Promise?"
"Read My word, buddy. I've made enough promises & haven't broken one yet. Have faith, child. You in or not?"
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Barrier Backlash
Monochromatic manipulation fusing white & black to numbing shades of gray,
Ichor-slicked sputum bubbling behind pearly whites,
Self-disgust becomes systemic, shame is malignant,
Pride is embedded, never sated, everlastingly perpetuated.
Reclusion: our very self, our husk can become a custom-tailored prison.
Cocoons of denial, excuses, and victimization incur the opposite of its purpose:
They shrink us & dessicate our relationship with God rather than grow.
One becomes bogged down with backstory, suffocating on self-sufficiency
Christ's blood-stained lens cracks, distorting sin,
Silenced into a sleeper cell, disguised in societal acceptance.
Obfuscating spiritual obesity: the negative feedback loop.
We consume vanity, compromise with comparison & quaff questionable activity.
Every filling focal point other than the Father,
Every Christian calorie uncounted & unapplied lesson
Steadily, unassumingly, gets stored as fat.
Brick by brick, the castle is constructed, man-made,
Deluded in the belief that the inactivated knowledge protects,
But the amber-tinted, soul-clogging globules only fossilize.
Stagnantly, it inhibits our sanctifying evolution,
Eventually leading to our extinction.
Ichor-slicked sputum bubbling behind pearly whites,
Self-disgust becomes systemic, shame is malignant,
Pride is embedded, never sated, everlastingly perpetuated.
Reclusion: our very self, our husk can become a custom-tailored prison.
Cocoons of denial, excuses, and victimization incur the opposite of its purpose:
They shrink us & dessicate our relationship with God rather than grow.
One becomes bogged down with backstory, suffocating on self-sufficiency
Christ's blood-stained lens cracks, distorting sin,
Silenced into a sleeper cell, disguised in societal acceptance.
Obfuscating spiritual obesity: the negative feedback loop.
We consume vanity, compromise with comparison & quaff questionable activity.
Every filling focal point other than the Father,
Every Christian calorie uncounted & unapplied lesson
Steadily, unassumingly, gets stored as fat.
Brick by brick, the castle is constructed, man-made,
Deluded in the belief that the inactivated knowledge protects,
But the amber-tinted, soul-clogging globules only fossilize.
Stagnantly, it inhibits our sanctifying evolution,
Eventually leading to our extinction.
"Legalies It"
Calling all the oppressed, weary & easily fixed,
Thoughts of prosperity gospel are not mixed
like the incompatibility of Living Water & snake oil.
This anthem of Best Life Now cannot continue its cadence.
Entrepreneur of untruth, a brand
of wide smiles & slicked-back hair,
utilized & sold to falsify & ensnare.
Please, I insist: buyers beware.
The guile of demons within the church reek like cannabis,
mutagenizing worship to step-by-step programs of self-sufficiency.
How chronic in 4:20 time do we inhale the sickly sweet hit
of tradition, comfort & safety?
How often do we roll with the punches of daily changed rules?
How blunt are the guidelines we put on ourselves
to "good" our way to the Being that loves us more than we can fathom?
We are under the spiritual maladjustment of Sister Mary Jane.
The Conductor of the Pineapple Express, she heaps half-truths & white lies
to fuel the loathsome locomotive of our desire.
For ourselves instead of Christ.
The pursuit for possession of power is a precursor to the primary problem.
The drug-inducing short-term memory loss, the very purple haze of legalism
that people want to utilize for escape is a cloud of deception;
the very place they run to for assumed freedom
is the place where one person after another gets trapped.
When the foggy narcotic yields excessive hunger
for something other than Him,
there is a costly disconnect.
It imbues the worst spiritual paranoia: "Am I saved?"
Or worse yet: "I'm totally fine...right?"
Thoughts of prosperity gospel are not mixed
like the incompatibility of Living Water & snake oil.
This anthem of Best Life Now cannot continue its cadence.
Entrepreneur of untruth, a brand
of wide smiles & slicked-back hair,
utilized & sold to falsify & ensnare.
Please, I insist: buyers beware.
The guile of demons within the church reek like cannabis,
mutagenizing worship to step-by-step programs of self-sufficiency.
How chronic in 4:20 time do we inhale the sickly sweet hit
of tradition, comfort & safety?
How often do we roll with the punches of daily changed rules?
How blunt are the guidelines we put on ourselves
to "good" our way to the Being that loves us more than we can fathom?
We are under the spiritual maladjustment of Sister Mary Jane.
The Conductor of the Pineapple Express, she heaps half-truths & white lies
to fuel the loathsome locomotive of our desire.
For ourselves instead of Christ.
The pursuit for possession of power is a precursor to the primary problem.
The drug-inducing short-term memory loss, the very purple haze of legalism
that people want to utilize for escape is a cloud of deception;
the very place they run to for assumed freedom
is the place where one person after another gets trapped.
When the foggy narcotic yields excessive hunger
for something other than Him,
there is a costly disconnect.
It imbues the worst spiritual paranoia: "Am I saved?"
Or worse yet: "I'm totally fine...right?"
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