Borrowed Breath

This poem was inspired by this post by Peter Rollins. Please read it before you read the poem.

I don’t want to know what I know
I’d rather hide my head in the sand
Or claim I do not understand
The plight of my fellow man
I’d rather maintain the status quo

I don’t want to be enlightened
I’d rather stay here in the dark
Than see suffering severe and stark
Remaining deaf to the guard dog’s bark
And keep my purse strings tightened

I don’t want to be convicted
By my lifestyle choices’ effects
Treating humans as objects
With my foot upon their necks
I don’t want to be conflicted

So just leave me alone

Two friends decided to take up the hobby of hiking. They immediately fell in love with nature and enjoyed being out in it for extended periods of time. What started out as one day hikes turned into overnight trips and then into weeklong excursions.

They were so enthused by their new-found sport that they shared of their experience with everyone. And when they were hiking, they enjoyed meeting other trekkers in the woods. They would stop and chat, and sometimes even fellowship around a campfire with them.

As they progressed in this sport, the one hiker began to add more and more gear to his pack. He purchased a lightweight stove, then a sleeping bag and pad that packed into a smaller space. Then came the water purifier and a small hatchet. As he added more equipment, his pack became heavier and heavier. But because he was in good shape, he was able to carry it. And all of these items made the trips more enjoyable.

Gradually, he became more and more self-satisfied with his collection of stuff, to the point where he questioned his friend’s commitment, since he continued to enjoy these hikes with a lighter pack containing only what he needed for each trip. The first hiker carried his well-stocked pack on each outing, even if it was just a short one day hike.

Earlier on, when they would meet other hikers in the woods, the conversation would center on the beauty of creation and their mutual enjoyment of the experience. But now, this hiker would start out by interrogating them on what their packs contained. He would immediately assess their dedication to the sport by comparing what they lacked by what he carried. And if they did not pass his evaluation, he deemed them inferior and even questioned whether they could call themselves “hikers.”

Finally, he ostracized himself from everyone, including his closest friend. He blamed them for the separation, since they were not as dedicated as he to the sport. And so he hiked alone, satisfied to be apart from those who were not as devoted as he was.

I believe Christians should be known
for what they do,
not for what they don’t do.

Born June 24th at 4:48 in the afternoon.
7 lb. 2 oz.
19 inches

Here’s our little miracle:

Over at Prophets, Priests and Poets, Brendt posted these thoughts from Michael Spencer’s book, Mere Churchianity which I have not read yet. But Brendt’s post prompted this little parable:

Once there was a wealthy man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, “Father, give me my share of the estate.” So the father divided his property between his two sons.

Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had and set off for a distant country. There he squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he was in dire need. So he went to a citizen of that country looking for work. He was sent to the fields to feed pigs. He was so hungry that he considered eating the pods that he was feeding the pigs. But no one gave him anything.

When he came to his senses, he said, “How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.” So he got up and went to his father.
But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with anger and resentment toward him; he ran to his son, and berated him for how he had damaged the family name by his actions.

The son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”

The father agreed and said, “But since you have returned, and appear to be repentant, I will make you one of my servants. Your food and lodging will be your only wages. And in time, when I decide that you are truly repentant, I will also give you a small stipend.”

How often do we confuse the attributes of God with our own flawed views of religion. Newton’s third law of motion somehow slips into our theology. For every action of mine against God, there will be reaction from Him that meets or exceeds my infraction. But grace is not limited by physics. Instead, our sins are met with mercy and forgiveness.

Granted, my sin will have consequences in this life. But not in the eyes of God, not in His dealings with me. Discipline is sometimes confused with retribution in some Christians’ minds. But grace overwhelms me by covering my sin and instead giving me freedom and peace and forgiveness and love and mercy which I do not deserve.

And rather than the fear of punishment causing me to turn from my evil ways, God’s love leads me to repentance.

Dad, I’ve shared with you before that you are on my list of heroes of the faith. You have consistently shown by your life and conduct what it means to follow Jesus, even when the toils and cares of life have tried to deter you from your faith. The effects of your legacy as a father and grandfather and uncle and friend reach beyond our knowledge. You are a peacemaker. You are gentle. You are passionate. You are honest. You love deeply. You are loyal. And you are, above all, a strong follower of Jesus Christ. You freely share of your own shortcomings, acknowledging that being a Christian doesn’t make you perfect. Yet you walk in the shadow of Golgotha and in the power of the resurrection and in the hope of our Lord’s return.

It’s always been a desire of mine to have a son and to name him after you. Today is the due date for our son. He is still nestled comfortably in Michelle’s womb. But we’ve already named him Philip.

In honor of father’s day, I wrote this poem for you:

A good name is more than a name,
As a picture is more than its frame.
And like a harvest from seeds that are sown,
Your character can be defined
By what your name leaves behind,
A legacy of love to all you have known.

So we named our son
After you.
For all you have done,
For all you do.

We love you and thank the Lord for you.
Happy Father’s Day

“A Christian doesn’t avoid the questions; a Christian embraces them. In fact, to truly pursue the living God, we have to see the need for questions. Questions are not scary. What is scary is when people don’t have any. What is tragic is faith that has no room for them.”

(Velvet Elvis page 28-29)

When tensions mount,
And fears surround,
They become my reality.
When dread sets in,
And besetting sin,
Threatens me with fatality, 

When hope takes flight,
My will to fight,
Retreats like the receding tide,
When sorrows bring,
Death’s sharp sting,
And the grave’s mouth opens wide, 

I realize this tomb
Is in fact a womb,
Where life is birthed from tragic death.
The stone rolls away,
I step into the day,
Of resurrected borrowed breath. 

When self is slain,
There will be pain,
But Jesus is here with me still.
He has felt the same,
The guilt, the shame,
And He bore it on Golgotha’s hill. 

So I breathe in deep,
And let His love sweep
Me into His warm, welcome embrace.
New hope begins,
And His love wins,
I become an ambassador of His grace.

                   Faith
                   is not
               arrogance.

I want to know you,
To know as I am known.
I want to find you,
To show what I’ve been shown.
I want to sense you,
Feel your caress against my face.
I want to recognize you,
And bless others with your grace.
I want to identify with you,
To join you in your death.
I want to feel you,
So I can be your Spirit’s breath.
I want to know you
In the power of your resurrection.
I want to be yours
And continue your insurrection.