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Preaching Samples - Aug 2021 - Present

Poetry

Apocalypse

Truth revealed. The veil lifted. Reality uncovered.

The surprise of the unexpected

yet ever imminent.

What lies below the surface and ripples the air we breathe.

Why do these things remain covered?

Why does the truth elude?

Are our eyes still so blind

to the light of truth and love?

Are teases and tricks of light all the hope we have?

Oh for eyes to see

that could know what is honest.

Oh for ears to hear

that which is true and lovely.

Oh for a heart and mind to know and to care

for the worthy and meaningful and real.

cannonballs require company

A pool

Alone

A still water oasis of anticipation

A chlorinated commitment to rest

A lone beach chair and towel

A deposit in peace sought

A lone taunting rainbow colored tube inviting

A plunge, a jump, a leap of revelry,

A cannonball?

Alone?

Something seems wrong

To revel and celebrate alone

Something seems false

To splash when no one can see

Something seems like trying too hard

To indulge in silliness even when the water begs it be so

When the whole world's my neighbor

Pinpricks of data that slice and exhume

With stories that grab me and fill my whole room.

Each detail a cut that injures, that wounds

My compassion bursts a bloody, crimson bloom.

So many people to carry; to trust, exhort, and love.

Is it any wonder as the bodies stack higher above?

My ability to know, to nurture, implore

Unto God who holds all of these yet still there are more.

As my circles grow wider, as more try to fit in,

I’m more overwhelmed by the broken, the lost, the sin.

There’s death and there’s evil both afar and within.

Is it any wonder it feels we can’t possibly win?

Each story an arrow that pierces my heart,

Bleeding love and compassion, pulling my attention apart.

As wounds pass through my body, as they exit my soul,

Can I keep it together, can I possibly stay whole?

I can carry my family, I can carry my friend.

When the whole world’s my neighbor just where do I end?

Jesus, you hold all of these, these burdens you can carry.

I give them to you, but can I trust, do I tarry?

For I know you are strong, you are certainly able.

Yet it’s hard for me to leave all these fears on the table.

Surrender seems losing or failing the need,

But I know only you can truly succeed.

Because it’s simply grace alone, not any good deed

That’s enough as I’ve seen, as I’ve prayed, as I read.

Give me strength to be weak, Lord, to trust this I pray

For it all comes to you at the end of the day.

Prayer

Throbbing bassline, tolling a heartbeat current

that ripples and thrums as a background beat pulses.

The warming light of sun that shines and gives

heat and hope as wind blows and clouds part.

Inviting scent of herbs and spice that linger

long after the meal has been prepared, served, shared.

Glimmering glory, yet simply an echo, a touch, a glint

of something greater.

Breaking in, stilling a storm.

The pause, the interruption of sense and thought

that causes momentum to cease and wonder to abide.

A holding of hands, give and take without words.

Closeness that bridges

the known and the unspoken.

Gift proven through time

giving shape and context to form.

Depth in stillness as deep cries out to deep,

sounding the familiar and the familial call of one

to another.

A Tale of Two Riots

At the temple of Artemis

Great god of the Ephesians

A murderous mob whipped up

By merchants made rich on the faith of others.

Ephesian nationalists who can’t see

How a dead Jewish teacher

could unseat a goddess,

an empire, their lives.

Yet their god isn’t a huntress,

It’s their stomach, their greed

That this Jesus threatens to unseat

As He calls people to trust.

At the temple of Yahweh

God of the Chosen

A murderous mob whipped up

By teachers held high by the law and the prophets

Jewish nationalists who can’t see

They’re more concerned

That they’re special

Than for who they are special.

Yet their god isn’t the great I AM.

It’s their pride, their right

That this Jesus threatens to unseat

As He calls people to trust.

In the temple of my life

Is it my self that I worship?

Is my anger whipped up

When my idols are threatened?

So often I can’t see

Where my heart is untrue,

Listening to my own voice

Instead of yielding to Your Spirit.

Father, please be my God.

Spirit, make my heart ever true.

Jesus, unseat every other.

I want to trust only You.

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