The paralytic and her friends.

Dear one,

I write this song of our journey, your story, to tell you that to have carried you isn't/wasn't/won't ever be a burden, rather it is a joy. I write to tell of the journey of hope, what has been, or what will be - so that your faith would be encouraged, and that hope would burn ever brightly. For all that you are, you've changed us - each one who has encountered your path has left a better self.

Thank you for letting us along your journey.

Your four friends

----------------------------------------------------

We've 'walked' this road for a while together now.

Your face is a light in my life, and I hope mine is to yours.

The dirt on my feet, the sweat in my brow,

the sores on my hand, from pulling your mat -

it's nothing compared to the weight you carry.

The Savior has come, they say even His cloak brings wholeness.

We've traveled far,

but the crowds overflow,

and there's no place to go.

We've pressed in, with no avail.

We've waited, with no success.

We've exchanged looks, our hearts ever burdened.

It's unorthodox, it's unruly, but it's all we have left.

We look to you, 'Friend, I know you can't hold on,

so we're taking you through the roof.'

We've tied you down, so our hands won't fail.

We've picked you up, on our backs we will make it.

Up to the roof, so precarious, so foolish.

But you've given up the fight, and we won't,

You may prefer to be safe, but we've come for Jesus.

We've wrenched the door open, with force beyond our own.

We've taken out the frame, because you can't even sit up anymore.

The tiles are no match for the love we feel for you.

This is our last chance, our last hope,

so we lay you on the bed, and tie the ropes to each corner.

Our eyes meet, us, we, all those that have carried you,

for the decades, for the moments here -

we have faith, because that's all we can do.

In the face of the hopelessness in your heart,

we have faith, we have carried the promise, so we lower you.

To the Savior, the Messiah, the one who speaks of life.

I know not what the Savior will do,

But we hope, pray, and believe....

As we lower you, and you come to rest,

He looks up to us, we four that carried you here,

and we tremble with fear, anguish and hope.

Friend, you may have lost hope, but our faith burns even ever so lightly.

We then hear Jesus voice, like calming waters,

He calls you "daughter, friend";

He had seen the faith.

He looks to you and says,

"your sins are forgiven you".

We know He is not pronouncing judgement,

rather speaking the freedom He has already given.

Jesus sees the fear of unworthiness,

the wonder of some sin that may have been committed,

the some thing to explain the loss you've endured...

Many have spoken, assumed it was a wrongdoing that you carry these pains.

Perhaps a disobedience, or pride that's made you fall.

But He declares "your sins are forgiven you".

You are free, you are loved,

You are accepted, the ailments, the paralysis is not a cause of sin,

of unworthiness or any action of your own.

Before your body is whole, He wants you to know,

"your sins are forgiven"; freedom.

I see your face,

you are grateful for the freedom.

They've said since that day, that you, the sufferer,

alone knew how that the great burden which pressed on your soul

and how it was removed at the Master's word.

But we know your heart hurts - you thought there would be more.

Don't give up yet.

I hear grumbling, the Pharisees again,

speaking what they think they know - but don't.

Accusing, blind, not too far from what we used to be.

I hear Jesus speak to them, and then again to you,

We press in to hear through the hole we laid you through,

He speaks:

"I say to you, rise, pick up your bed and go home.”

Our hearts stop.

Our faith holds on, but barely,

We wait to see - will you have faith to stand?

Will His words heal like we've seen before?

Half a breath passes, and our hearts leap at the sight.

Before everyone can respond,

we are running off the roof, heading towards the door.

We don't care if it's unruly, unorthodox, or any other matter -

we are pushing everyone out of the way, to the door.

There you are, standing in the doorway.

STANDING.

The mat - the place of your affliction now in your hand.

The feet that had once held horror to you, now beautiful.

The back that held you bound, holds you up straight.

The glow in you eyes like heavens first song.

The glory of God pouring through your very skin.

The people gasp, and point in awe.

We run to you in intimate embrace,

seeing our faith come to pass.

Many speak of the healing,

many have been brought to the Truth because of you.

It is a beautiful thing, a treasure to behold.

We dance in your dancing,

Just as we mourned in your weeping.

We laugh in the rejoicing,

Just as we held to faith in the sorrows.

To those that have lost hope,

we gather round and say "sister, the faith in your brother is strong enough to carry you".

To those that have faith,

we gather them up and encourage them to act, to believe, to pray.

The faith in my sister is stronger than my own,

and if tomorrow I too can not walk, I know -

You'd carry me in faith to salvation's place.

Give us, Lord, the same kind of faith with respect to thy ability and willingness to heal our souls. Give us to desire the pardon of sin more than any earthly blessing, or life itself. Enable us to believe thy power to forgive sins; then will our souls cheerfully arise and go where thou pleases.

(Matthew Henry's Concise Commentary)

Inspired by my best friends - don't forget your name.

And by Teddy Hart's sermons at Renovatus Church in North Carolina - check them out here:

"Seeing Strange Things"

http://renovatuschurch.com/media.php?pageID=5

Moving

Sometimes the song comes forth intentional, fully planned, executed in perfect melody; other times however the song appears, the notes leaving your lips as honestly spills forth from your heart. This is what prayer is for me - a song.
I pray other ways of course - in writing, in silent words, in Spirit led groans, and a in covering meditation. But I am still caught by the wonder of praying in song. Yesterday I was driving, on my way to get my husband for the 4th Celebration after spending all afternoon help cleaning out my parents house. The last couple of weeks, and really months have been very traumatic emotionally for me - and it's not because of other's actions, but because of deep reflection. I've screamed, I've cursed, I've cried in a depth that is beyond me, I've laid at the altar as hands of love keep my soul at rest, I've gotten angry - so angry I'm scared by the pain inside and I've laughed freely. My heart is a worn mess and this move has brought it all up.

As I drove I sang various melodies, trying to express my heart, all of a sudden tears were falling and I was catching my breath - I was singing my heart to God. Anger, confusion, lost, frustration, hopelessness, deep hope, anger, and fear. A mangled prayer as I could barely get the notes out, but it was true - and I asked God why.

The answer well, is still waiting. But my heart rested after its brutal expression of pain to the Lord, and the Spirit in Her tenderness and strength reassured my heart that I was not forgotten.

I'm still angry. I feel the wrath inside - but the God of the heavens is not shaken by my anger, but invites me to let it go and find rest.

I'm still confused. The questions, the doubts, I don't understand anything of the last few months.

I'm still hurting. The tears can bubble in a moment, that place of wrestling is sore, and I don't know who won.

But I am not forgotten. There is a part of me that doubts that, a part that wants to yell to the heavens and say "You lied, You are dead to me as I am dead to You!" But there is my head, and the depth of my spirit that knows that this too shall pass, and His Light brought into eternal glory of my life.

Moving turns a home back into a house, and puts the heart looking for it's home. But where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom, where the Body is there is Love, and Truth is now a person to know and we are not forgotten.

Standing

Here we are standing.
Holding on and letting go,
Living in the ebb and  flow.
Spirit of God speak.
Revealed in the Word,
lived in the Incarnate.

Today and yesterday, tomorrow and forever.
These emotions change and it drives me insane.
Yesternight was a lifetime ago, and today feels like a daze.
But my witness can't depend in these fleeting feelings, these residues if dreams.
So Jesus come, help me. Because I can't help myself.

Meet the mom.
Sing life over her and make her whole.
Meet the dad.
As life has crumbled give new sight, restore the broken and be there. 
Meet the daughter,
Continue to give her strength to bear the loads and make clear her path.
Meet the son,
Whose tasks overwhelm and distractions hold him, give freedom and clarity.

For You are father, mother, sister, neither and in You we find peace.

I wish

Friend, I write this for you.

I wish.
I wish I could make the time turn back,
and restore all you've lost.
I wish I could quicken our Savior's steps,
and bring the restoration now.

I wish I could carry this for you instead,
and know you'd carry me too.
I wish the smallest part to be renewed,
and hope to grow and grow.

I scream, I cry, I am worn,
yet your strength pushes me forward.
I sing, I dance, I am joyful,
as you've brought a light into my life.

I wish, oh dear one I wish.

I wish to make the stars align,
and for you to meet the one.
I wish to make the pain cease,
and all the tears seem distant.

I wish that the voices would be silenced,
and you'd know your worth.
I wish your heart to speak languages unknown,
and you'd know your feet are beautiful.

Dear one I wish....
But in this fragile body you are here.
We can scream at God together, it's okay.
I won't run away, and He is not offended.

I wish I understood the mind of God,
the tarrying Father of Lights.
I wish I could explain the Spirit's move,
or our elder brother, Christ's love.

You scream, you sit, you are worn,
the tears just don't work anymore.
You walk, you move, you speak,
and you cause new life all around you.

So dear one, while I will wish and forever pray,
You are a light.
You are a song.
We all dance in the symphony of who you are.
I wish you could hear it's melody.

Please know, I know you will be whole.
A day will come that your heart will rest.
Where wishing will be for petty things,
like books and earrings.
Until that day I will never give up,
and neither should you -
Because hope arises in the morning,
and we too can be made new.
I love you.
I wish you to know how deep that love is - for it is not me alone.

A prayer

Sometimes I am going my prayers, sometimes I live my prayers and then like today I write the words I can - hoping  the Spirit will respond to the things I can express.

Growing up... God I never thought we'd get this far. My heart breaks in my chest. I desperately long for us to be all together. For my sisters, brother, and I to live life together. To experience everything like the best of friends. But God its not happening like that. God we all seem so far apart and it kills me...
Is this what is meant to be? Are we born into these family units only to depart after their years of investing into us? It doesn't seem fair.
Hold steady my heart. Let me hear You, through the madness, through the chaos, through the insanity help me.
As I lack understanding and as my heart hurts, I will trust You. I don't know anything anymore but I know You. Jesus, my elder brother speak truth to me. God my Father, I will trust Your call. Holy Spirit, my mother and sister, sing over me songs of love and peace in this insanity.
Amen.

Drowning in the silences, Swimming in the dawn

I believe in a theology that is rich, full and beautiful.

I believe in a Holy Spirit, whose beautiful dance within the Trinity causes us to sing into Pentecost.

I believe that rain will cause us to grow, but the sun proves our perseverance.

I feel a failure in so many different ways.

While your words say otherwise, I feel I have broken your heart.

What I believe doesn't seem to connect with what I feel.

What I live is so different from what I know.

The darkness came, the Spirit spoke, and the dragon died.

But will I last....

I can't explain to you the intricacies, the connected reasons of why and why not,

these complexities are beyond my words to articulate.

But the melding between us has caused a rift, a void I can't express.

I don't want these demons, I don't want these blessings,

I just don't want to let go.

What I feel is screaming, and the voice of condemnation whispers my sins as I confess.

So I say all I know, because what I feel is too much for me.

You are God, You are a good, good God.

A father, a mother, sister, brother - You are.

All good things I have, all love I know is from You.

Three in One, a dance I am invited to witness, to join in by even the smallest part.

Will we wade into these waters, the oceans that have no end?

For You oh God are limitless, endless in character, love, and person.

I can spend my entire life seeking You, and a thousand eternities thereafter and I will know a simple drop.

But seek I must.

You know. Bring peace. Prayers of the Saints lift me up.

Cause these conflictions to speak true of who You are Lord.

For You are I AM - unchanging, unwavering in all You are. 

Living, breathing, present, past and all that will be.

In You all was made, in all You will be, and in You all will end.

I will be in You, and trust that You can, will and have spoken to me.

That's all I have left.

Selah.

I used to

I used to believe in capital punishment.
I used to believe in systems.
I used to believe I knew what justice was.

But two twelve year old girls being imprisoned till they are 77, that's not justice.
Us overtly avoiding the mental health issue while hyper focusing on gender, that's not justice.

I used to believe in black and white lines.
I used to believe everyone thought like me.
I used to believe I could transcend this insanity.

But a young girl laying in a hospital bed recovering from wounds inflicted by her "friends", that's not sane.
A young man hands wet with blood, shooters on campuses, schools, homes, and no trace of the Body, that's not sane.

I used to believe the prayers of the saints were superfluous.
I used to believe old men's longing for Christ's return to be demonstrative.
I used to believe we could make this right on our own.

But my heart yearns for peace, as the whole world groans in angst, tearing itself apart.
Our feeble hands unable to accomplish, yet we can do more than we are, and most of all we need to seek His face.

I used to believe I knew much more than I do.
I used to speak in certainty I can't hold anymore.
I used to be safe in the place of reason and knowledge.

But like my peers, like the masses surrounding me, my own unraveling is parallel to the world's failing.
Yet as the Creator takes me apart piece by piece, I will not be left an empty canvas but will be made into a new masterpiece - one that shines, that includes, that invites, and gives space.

Let us speak no more of "I used to". But let us join in the joyful sound of "I am becoming", "Christ is changing me", "I am not, but I trust in the one who IS."
These are not cliche quips, they are not simple answers to simple questions. These are the results of deep wrestling, of sleepless nights, of tears and groans only the Spirit can express. Yes, it may seem like all hell is breaking forth in this land and in our own hearts - but that is a glimmer, the Light can not die, and He who was before, is now and will be again....so let us run into Him.