I can’t remember ever feeling as broken as I felt on Good Friday.
life
Look to Jesus
This year seems to pose more challenges than any year in recent memory. Sure, every year carries tragedies, horrors, and unwelcome interruptions to the status quo, but 2020 seems to have hit the bad news quota for the year by April. And it’s still going strong.
A Prayer During a Pandemic
Death’s shadow looms o’er us, but we fear not,
For with us walks the life, the light, of men,
Sov’reign o’er ev’ry plague, problem, and plot,
Perfect in power, faithful yet again.
You have been with us, will be with us still,
Though days be long and lonely in the land.
We feel the curse. So many are so ill.
God, this is not the future we had planned.
But you are e’er at work, and so we wait.
And we believe (but help our unbelief).
Let faith grow more than worry for our fate.
Let worship be our joy and our relief.
O Lord, you give. O Lord, you take away.
O let your name be blessed by us this day.
Photo by Chris Henry on Unsplash
A Prayer for Reform
I know I ought to be in awe of you,
To walk in holy fear,
For you are far and you are near,
Both present and surpassing all I know.
But as I go,
I often show
Ambivalence or apathy and throw
My heart to fleeting treasures here.
Reform my faith this year
And fill my soul with love for what is true.
Photo by Aleks Dahlberg on Unsplash
Counsel and Conviction
Reflections on Adorning the Dark
Few books have so exceeded my expectations, so filled me with joy, so met me with comfort, and so stirred my wonder before the LORD as Andrew Peterson’s book Adorning the Dark. Continue reading
Fall
The cold has come, the darkness steals the day,
But not in ev’ry way.
For still some voices sing
Of home, a land untouched by this decay.
Though presently we feel the bitter sting
Of this scene’s disarray,
For those who know the King,
The final act is not the fall, but spring.
Photo by Septumia Jacobson on Unsplash
The Winter Cry
Lost within the witch’s woods,
The darkened woods, the wicked woods,
Lost within the witch’s woods
Where few shall follow after.
Somber are the witch’s woods,
The vilest woods, corrupted woods.
Somber are the witch’s woods.
I fear the sound of laughter.
Save me from the witch’s woods,
The stony woods, the dying woods.
Save me from the witch’s woods
And all who follow after.
Set me free to Aslan’s woods,
To living woods and thriving woods.
Set me free to Aslan’s woods,
And change these woods hereafter.
Photo by jesse orrico on Unsplash
Pain and Perspective
But Who Am I To Thee?
I am a novelty to most,
A treasure to but two or three,
One face amidst history’s host,
But who am I to thee?
I am an upright man to most,
A sinner to but two or three,
One saint amidst the sacred host,
But who am I to thee?
I am unworthy, more than most,
A traitor to the one-in-three,
One soul amidst a sinful host.
Oh, who am I to thee?
I am a son because the most
August of sons rose morning three
With freedom for the captive host,
For he was truly thee.
I am yours to the uttermost,
A slave no more to two or three,
One voice, known, singing with your host.
E’er more am I to thee.
Photo by youssef naddam on Unsplash
as i learn to walk 