Christian, Uncategorized

Christ Jesus, Keeper of Love

Christ Jesus, Keeper of Love—exchange our hearts for Yours. You’ve asked us to love You, and this alone reveals the tragedy of our condition. What should, of every order given in all the annals of time, have been least burdensome to follow—has utterly confounded us.

You’ve asked us to treat all others as we would have them treat us—seemingly simple enough, since we share the plight of all humanity. Yet, still we strive to sustain ourselves—no matter the cost to our neighbors.

You’ve asked us to love each other in the same way You have loved us—Dear God, show us how! Teach us how such a thing can ever be possible.

We need You. Please, come to us—and in this very moment, conform us to Your image. Irrevocably consume and let us die to ourselves—that we might know Life for the very first time.

Christian, Uncategorized

Who Are You?

Who are you that makes the sun to shine and the moon to cast its gleam? Who are you that sways the waters blue, composing a cradle for life to teem?

Who are you that gives the rose its scent, commanding the dew to crown it in splendor? Who tells the doe to hide in flora, making way for nativity tender?

Who are you that called us forth from dust, bestowing your breath and bidding us trust?

Providing our shade ‘neath your towering trees, until one of them threw us in shame to our knees.

Now, lo! Do we see you spinning a robe, to cover and comfort and shield us from cold? Who are you, we ask, that would do such a thing for we who have fallen and made your heart sting?

Who are you with hands so calloused and worn, yet smiling so sweetly upon the forlorn?

Your face so familiar, yet strange to behold—who are you whose friendship is worth more than gold?

Who are you that cries all alone in the dark, who asks more than anything never to part from the source of all wisdom and glory and love—lifting your eyes to the vastness above?

Who are you with arms open wide in such pain? These arms meant for holding now carry the stain of crimson transgression, but how could this be? You’re hurt for our crimes while we are set free.

Who are you whose death has given us life? Who are you whose triumph has ended our strife?

Oh please, you must tell us, for we long to know. Who are you that loves us? We cherish you so.


Christian, Uncategorized

Celestial Dance

In dreams, one night, I traversed a cosmic ballroom—unmatched in opulence and charm. Every passage, arbor, and column contrived to hold my gaze as I stood perplexed before divinity. Every god and goddess known appeared to grace the dance floor. From Aphrodite to Vishnu, the tapestry of holiness unwound before my eyes. A gala of the gods, I thought. A bal masque of supernatural glory—how is it that I should be here? 

Bemused and somewhat frightened, I hastened through the hall—my dizzied head unwittingly keeping time to ethereal twirls. But amid the commotion, my gaze abruptly set upon a captivating figure standing alone in the recess. The spinning stopped. The room stood still. And then there was nothing. Nothing save his piercing eyes on mine. Nothing save to come to him.

Slowly and deftly, his eyes led my feet toward him, ’til finally I stood in his reach—knowing not why. Was it the intensity in his stare? The kindness in his smile that had drawn me near him? Maybe, I thought. But as I paused to look back upon the heavenly scene unfolding, I couldn’t help but wonder something else. Maybe it’s because of all of them, he is the one who most resembles myself. 

Suddenly, his hand beneath my chin swept me away from my thoughts—and my eyes returned again to him. “Dance with Me,” he said.

Oh, what else could I do? What else could I do but yield forever to his requests?

I gave him my hand and surrendered to his warm embrace, returning his smile as we joined the throng of celestial dancers. Clumsy and stiff though I am, not once did he allow my feet to flounder—not once did he let me fall. On the contrary, in his arms, I was the image of poise and serenity. A miracle, I whispered aloud.

Then, something recalled me, again, to his eyes—his eyes which pervaded my soul. I searched deeper within their intensity—and found there ultimate suffering. Our dancing ceased as I looked once more at our entwined hands. There were scars at his wrists. I could scarcely believe it. A god with scars? I looked away and tried to mask my shock. But the scars didn’t end at his wrists. No matter where on his body I set my eyes, they seemed to be everywhere. Forgetting myself, I reached up and traced a line across his head.

At once, he caught my hand and lowered it slowly toward his heart. He gently placed it there to let me feel its beating… The resonance overwhelmed me, and then, at last, I knew. He’s human, I whispered in my mind. My God has a heartbeat. 

I struggled in vain to give voice to my feelings. In vain because He knew them already. Then, inclining his lips tenderly to my ear, He whispered—as though He were breathing His very Life into me.

“It stopped once for you. That’s why you’re here with Me now.”

I could bear it no longer. My whole body trembled as my tears spilled forth, for I could somehow feel everything He’d felt. I looked up and saw that His eyes were wet, too. Then, falling to the floor, I asked Him, “Oh, God, what do You wish? Please, tell me what You want. I’ll do anything.” 

“I love you,” He said as He reached for my hands. “Will you dance with Me?” 



Christian, Uncategorized

Tree of Knowledge

It doesn’t seem like much now—this life-deprived and wilted thing standing still in the loneliest place on earth.

Oh, why did we ever want it?

Is it because we were afraid to miss out on something special—some strange, elusive secret that we couldn’t help but know?

Were we so entranced with longing for the one thing withheld that we sneered at all we’d been given?

Was it not enough to be sheltered in our innocence, clinging to Another in absolute trust?

And, what of Love? Surely, Love was worth more than an untasted fruit.

For all the knowledge we’ve gained, we still seem to have more questions than answers. Why?

Evil haunts our hearts, as our minds crowd with false piety.

We could’ve had Everything, but we had to know everything.

Oh, that we could take it back—just take it back and run into His arms!

Like joyful children, that we could play unbridled in the kingdom of Purity!

It doesn’t seem like much now—this life-deprived and wilted thing standing still in the loneliest place on earth.

So, tell me—why do we still reach for its hollow branches?



Christian, Uncategorized


For tender hearts to share our course and whispers of childhood dreams.

For twinkling light on a summer’s night and the moon of wondrous gleam.

For crystal pools to calm the heat and emerald meadows ‘neath our feet.

For joy within the midst of sorrow, and life today despite tomorrow.

We thank You for Your Presence nigh in everything we see.

We look around and sense Your love—none greater could there be!

Christian, Uncategorized

Return to Eden

Close your eyes. Sense naught but the warmth of the sun as it kisses your unveiled flesh. Smell the wild and fragrant honeysuckle, and take it to your lips—it is for you. Now, rise and run unbridled through windswept fields! See the hues of stunning sky and dance beneath its splendor. Feel soft, green life on tender toes and fear not to bathe beneath the cloudburst. Hear the sounds of thunder and of rain; of humming birds and every breathing thing. Hear them as sweet music longing to caress your waiting ears. Drink from crystal springs, and eat the fruit of trailing vines. Behold the world—a glowing canvas of purity and grace. Behold yourself! Young. Healthy. Beautiful. Alive. And as you sense this wonder, above all else, remember to breathe. Yes—fully and deeply, respire with purpose and awe. Breath is the foremost gift of your Creator—the genesis of being and cosmic intimacy. Take it, and know that your first breath has been His into you. Take it, and whisper His Name. There is no choice. His Name is in your very breath!

Christian, Uncategorized


Awake, all creation, to the Bright Morning Star—and His love burning fiercely for you. Avert not your eyes from the Light of this world and from all that is good, pure, and true.

Sleep in darkness no more; He has conquered the grave—endeavoring sweetly for our life to save.

Arise to the One who is all Life itself, and be not afraid. For as He is Life, we are His.


Christian, Uncategorized


I’ve always had a kind of fascination with words, and passion has been one of my favorites for a long time. Mysteriously, its very sound can evoke its meaning—bringing profound emotion to our minds and hearts. When we hear it, we’re bound to liken it to others, such as ardordesire, and love. We might conjure our own personal sense of what it means to be alive, or imagine that one thing which we could never live without.

Passion can be a very cathartic word, and the mystery within it only deepens when we realize its hidden value. I say hidden because we might not think of it too often—the way in which passion is synonymous with suffering. More than likely, when we think of it this way, there is only one person—and one unconscionable event—with which we are associating it. I think it’s because no one else in the history of anything has ever felt passion like He has. Passion so strong, so deep, and so intense that it could endure anything for the sake of its muse—the insanity of such a thing should move us! It should haunt our dreams until it lives in us as well, our passion for Him ever nourished by His for us.

Christian, Uncategorized

Out of Many, One

The book of John contains a prayer that Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane—on the night he was arrested. I know I’ve probably quoted from it before because I just love it so much. Granted, the one we know as “The Lord’s Prayer” has always been the more famous, but this one is definitely the more heart-wrenching. It came from his tortured heart rather than his desire to teach his followers how to pray, and for that reason, it has always been my favorite.

In his great hour of need, he pours himself out to his Father, and incredibly, he thinks of us. Toward the end of this touching entreaty, he says: “I am praying not only for these disciples but also for all who will ever believe in me because of their testimony. My prayer for all of them is that they will be one, just as you and I are one, Father—that just as you are in me and I am in you, so they will be in us, and the world will believe you sent me. I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are—I in them and you in me, all being perfected into one” (John 17:20-23, NLT).

In reading this prayer, perhaps God’s original design for us can become more apparent. It helps us to see the truth more clearly—because despite the division we see among us, the truth is that we were meant to be one. Each time I pass a stranger on the street, I think of it. Every human life that has ever been or shall ever be, from every race and every place, is a piece of myself that’s gone missing. No matter the fear or confusion this world casts upon me all the time, deep in my soul, I know this truth. Difficult though it is to believe, there once was a time—in this world—when God truly had His way with us. We knew Him. He was with us—and we were together. But that was before the Fall—before we used His gift of free will against Him. For one brief, resplendent moment, we were as a shining window of stained glass. A vibrant and beautiful work of art, all telling the same story—reflecting the glory of our wonderful Creator. But then, we touched forbidden fruit and ever since, we’ve never been as we ought to be. We’re like jagged pieces of broken glass that only He can make whole again.

It’s hard enough to experience this brokenness in the world at large. It makes us fearful and it makes us hateful—because we can’t recognize each other anymore. We can’t recognize ourselves in each other anymore. Jesus said that the world would hate anyone who belonged to him. So, that much, I suppose we should expect. But what no one ever seems to want to address is the brokenness within the Church—his own body. We’ve all experienced it, and at worst, it has caused us to actually renounce the Church. But how can this be, since in so doing, we renounce ourselves?

We create denominations because we don’t know how to reconcile our differing perspectives over doctrine. We become prideful and competitive with each other, as though our life in Christ were some cosmic race to be won. We stubbornly hold to deep convictions over things that probably don’t matter that much, while grossly compromising with the world on the things that matter most. And if this claim is confusing to those of you who will read this, here are some examples from my own life. My grandmother attended a congregation where they took communion on a weekly basis, and their reason for doing so was simple. Jesus gave a simple command. “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19, NLT). Period. He didn’t actually say “Do this once every seven days”, or “once a month”, or “once every season” or “once a year on the anniversary of this night.” No specification appears to have been given regarding the frequency with which we are supposed to take communion. The denomination that my grandmother’s congregation was affiliated with prided itself on being, quote, “the church of the Bible.” They scrutinized every detail they knew about the early Church and endeavored to replicate it entirely. Since Jesus gave no specification regarding the frequency with which to take communion, they reasoned that it was better to err on the side of caution and to take it every time they met. To me, this always seemed logical enough, and I saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. As I got older and had more opportunities to attend congregations outside of this one, I eventually discovered, of course, that not all congregations adhered to this same tradition. Some took communion once a month, some seemingly every six months, or particularly around the holidays, etc, etc. I might have seen absolutely nothing wrong with this, either. But unfortunately, the party line of my grandmother’s denomination was that “we alone are the church of the Bible.” They held very deep convictions about every facet of their tradition, and they actually believed themselves to be the only ones who were truly obedient to the teachings of Jesus. So, among other things, they had a big problem with anyone who said it was okay to take communion less than once a week. They harshly alienated any and all other groups of believers who held to a different standard on the issue—and I see now how completely tragic that was. It was really no different that the pervasive attitude of the religious elite in Jesus’ time. They cared so much about the letter of the law that they neglected the spirit of the law,  and I can only pray that they see their mistake—as I have since seen mine.

On the other end of this spectrum lies the rising tide of our increasingly ambiguous world culture, which demands acceptance of all points of view, religious, or otherwise, as equally true and valid. On the surface, it seems to be the the only way to live anymore. If we want to live in peace with everyone—and if we really want to demonstrate the love of Christ—we must first surrender any convictions we have about him. This wave of confusion is poised to crush and drown his Church—and not even we can see it coming! I’ve actually known fellow Christians who have said to me that while they believe Jesus to be the Son of God, they no longer believe that he is the only way to lasting life and salvation. After all, there are just too many other cultures and religions out there, and what kind of a closed-minded, judgmental bigot would I be if I actually suggested that he were the one true God? I cannot express in words how utterly heartbreaking such things are to hear. We are supposed to be his body. His body. No one else’s. And what is to become of us if we bind ourselves to another, when we belong to him? What is to become of the world if we are too frightened to teach others about him? And how are we ever to have our brokenness mended without crying out to him in longing? Jesus! You are the only one I want and the only one who can save me! Please, come. I beg you!

We must never let the darkness use our desire to emanate love by tricking us into forsaking Love. For, without Love there is no love! We can’t even begin to know what love is until we know Him.