I Do Not Want to Follow You Today

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I do not want to follow you today,
And though I know the path you set is right,
I do not want to walk the narrow way.

I struggle now to find the words to say
That, though I do not want to leave the light,
I do not want to follow you today.

I still will read the Bible, still will pray;
Yet, as I stand before the darkest night,
I do not want to walk the narrow way.

God, can I still within your purpose stay
When, with emotions filling me with fright,
I do not want to follow you today?

Storm clouds have come and turned clear skies to grey.
God, must I walk by faith and not by sight?
I do not want to walk the narrow way.

These few concerns before your throne I lay.
Lord, leave me not, though in this temp’ral plight,
I do not want to follow you today,
I do not want to walk the narrow way.


Photo by Konstantin Planinski on Unsplash

Why Do I Write?

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Why do I write?
I write to clarify my thoughts,
To contemplate the mights and oughts
For better sight.
Why do I write?
My voice and tongue do oft impede
Communication. Come and read
My soul’s expression, for I need
To be transparent. I must heed
The call and write.
Why do I write?
I feel unable to convey
Emotion any other way.
These fears and joys that fill the day
I write at night.
Why do I write?
I draw near to the throne of grace
With pen and paper ‘fore my face
To speak to you in humbler pace,
Requesting help to run the race,
To walk in light.
Why do I write?
I write to share what I have found
That some, by reading, might abound.
Therefore, I write.


Photo by Alexa Mazzarello on Unsplash

Never for a Moment Apart

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“And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:20

Presence.

Presence can make the act of sitting through a terrifying movie more bearable. Presence can make a nervous child more courageous. Presence can strengthen and encourage in powerful ways.

Presence can also cause a tempted eye to avoid the glance. Presence can make a child who’s considering disobedience choose to obey. Presence can remind and convict in powerful ways.

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On My Use of the First Person

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I remember finding a used copy of A Grief Observed by C. S. Lewis in a back room of a house-turned-flea-market in Natchitoches, Louisiana while I was in college. The price was less than two dollars, I think. I was beginning to venture into the world of Christian thought, and my hunger for truth was strong and wild. Lewis’ name rang a bell in my mind, recalling memories of his Narnia stories. A Grief Observed, if memory serves me well, was my first taste of his nonfiction. I hadn’t a clue what that short book would do to me.

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Toward Deeper Faith


I speak of beauty, but I feel it not;
Emotion cannot pass beyond the clot.
The intellect amasses stores of facts –
Is there any conviction in my acts?
I speak, but maybe merely for the sight.
My motivation is not love, but right.

Lord, take these stone-like aspects; make them flesh.
Remove the fallen focus and refresh
My mind and heart to know and love the truth,
And let me follow with the faith of youth.

Inhabiting eternity, yet near,
You, Lord, deserve allegiance, worship, fear.
By grace through faith, I rest in your great pow’r
And, ransomed, sing, “I need thee ev’ry hour.”

A Prayer (As I Learn to Walk)


Deepen my convictions, Lord of heaven and of hell.
Quench my thirst with living water from the one, true well.
Let not my devotion be a mere religious act.
Let me learn to love you as a person, more than fact.
Tether me, O Trinity, to truth as unto air.
Marry truth to holiness and make my dwelling there.
Purge me of impurity, from all unrighteousness.
Privatize my worship. Let me work to serve, to bless.
Capture my imagination, my creator God.
Cultivate a true commitment kept by law and rod.
Let my life, in ev’ry aspect, be as unto thee
As I learn to walk with you for all eternity.

Be Still and Know

“Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”
Psalm 46:10

I’m not very good at being still. Even as I’m typing this, I’m noticing that I’m always moving: fingers typing as I write, foot tapping as I think, eyes scanning the room as I try to form sentences. I have to make a conscious effort to just be still, or I won’t stop. And this constant movement isn’t confined to fidgeting. My days are filled with tasks stacked upon one another like volumes in a second hand book shop. Between school and work and church, days can feel like mini-marathons.
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