Pride’s Seduction

I had a dream the other night about a man. Specifically, Gatsby, but this time he was Marylin Monroe’s murderer (you know how dreams go).

He ran a little enclosed kingdom, with him ever at the center. While there was an overwhelming awareness that he could kill them at any moment, the people threw themselves at him. Something inside prayed he would. Somehow, somewhere deep inside myself, I was one of them, desperate for him to want me, yet aware it would end in death. There was a man working for him, reduced to a dunce from his abuses. Though he loved his master, he fought to help us escape this society of grey. 

I had just been outlined for reconstructive surgery, as women were expected to look a certain way there and I, apparently, had the audacity to break the mold. At the last moment I said no. The doctor was angry. The building was blue and made of glass. 

With a blink I returned to the city below. It occurred to me, then, how a boy can become a dictator: he had been given all he ever wanted. Like a mirage in the corner, his parents could be seen, terrified at the moment their smiles would waver, causing him to throw another tantrum. You know the look in their eyes: that scared, nervous smile, the too-quick, harried response of “He’s so smart. Look at him, such a good boy…”

He had killed Marylin  one night after dinner. Elaborately, with a set of wine, coffee, and her latest script to practice together. Something in all his subjects wanted desperately to be killed by him. It was glamorous. It made you someone. Walking around his house, a girl couldn’t help but dream of being loved by such a man of luxury, even if the one night stand ended in death. Tragedy made the story more romantic.

Every girl knew the outcome of a night with him, yet every girl begged he choose her. Every man envied him, prayed for his camaraderie, all the while knowing it would leave them as vegetables, walking round and round the ditch he drops all his old servants in. 

He survived off the women’s beauty, the men’s vitality. One kept him eternally attractive, the other eternally young. 

I looked back once more before jumping the wall. I knew the other side held life, truth, and my love. Devilishly handsome as ever, he returned the look, but this time the snake inside was clear. He was maniacal, hopeless, selfish, and alone. He wanted nothing of us but his own immortality.

Turning my head, I made the leap, and as feet met ground, I awoke.

Until writing this all out in my morning pages, it didn’t occur to me that this was my subconscious’s way of processing everything we saw in South Beach on Memorial Day Weekend. Throughout the rest of this week, the Lord showed me how my “seductive dictator” is pride, but we all have one. We all have our little hidden sin we keep quiet, letting him pump us full of the pain meds we crave as he digs the knife deeper into our backs.

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I say pride because that’s my struggle, but yours could be different. Idolatry. Lust. Laziness. Selfishness. Whatever it is, it’s never too late to release it to Him and jump the barricade.

“Though the lips of the forbidden woman drip honey and her words are smoother than oil, in the end she’s bitter as wormwood and as sharp as a double-edged sword. Her feet go down to death; her steps straight to Sheol. She doesn’t consider the path of life; she doesn’t know that her ways are unstable.” ~ Proverbs 5:3-6

“Don’t abandon wisdom, and she will watch over you; love her, and she will guard you. Wisdom is supreme, so get wisdom. And whatever else you get, get understanding. Cherish her, and she will exalt you; if you embrace her, she will honor you. She will place a garland of grace on your head; she will give you a crown of beauty.” ~ Proverbs 4:6-9

 

 

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Psalm 81

When we were wanderingweek five (18 of 33)
Alone and afraid
You rescued us
Kept us from shame

In pillars of smoke
In clouds of fire
You whispered Your name
You gave us hope
Daily, we sang Your praisesweek five (19 of 33)
Adoration was hourly upon our lips
Upon our lips
To the Unknown God who saves
New moon rises
Sound the horn
We were lost and lonely souls
Now we’re found in You, Lord
Then as a storm, fear roseweek five (20 of 33)
Thunderclouds swallowing hope
Stealing breath from our lungs, so from Your arms
We run, run, run
And You say
Darling, come home
Darling, come home
Taste My love once more
Remember when you were lost and lonelyweek five (24 of 33)
In My arms, I carried you to safety
We lived in harmony
My bride and I
I long to drench you
In My love, fill your cup
I long to hold you
In My holy embrace
Remember how I led you
Through the desertweek five (32 of 33)
Pillars of smoke, clouds of fire
Singing joy to you all the while
Why have you gone?
Let Me hold you again
You’re tired and afraid
Let me keep you safe from harm
I’ll keep you safe from harm
Darling, come homeweek five (28 of 33)
Darling, come home
Darling, come hom
Taste My love once more.

Harvest

Stil
Quiet
Peace
The storm has ceased
I can finally
Breathe.

Life’s a tornado
I’ve been knocked to the ground
All is steady now
Still, I’m scared to stand.

So I lean into You
Let Your words rush over me
Fall asleep
To the rhythm of Your grace
At last, I’m safe.

I’m being ground
That the spices may come out
Though the winds assail me
And oceans as bullets
From the heavens fall,
Still I rejoice
In my only God
With each earthly blow
Let the blessings flow
That all may see and know
The beauties of
Your precious Name.

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Hungry Hearts

Do You hear the sound?
Hungry hearts
We are one thousand
Crying “Holy, You are.”DSC_0264

Do You feel the rush
Hungry hearts
Grateful, we push
Forward to Your arms.DSC_0237

United purpose
Single Spirit
Fragrant roses
We lift our souls to You.DSC_0206

One thousand tongues
Words of fire
We lift our souls to You
Lift us higherDSC_0244

Joy resounding
From the trees, the sky
We lift our souls to You
Lift us high.DSC_0270

Do You hear the sound?
Hungry hearts
We are one thousand
Crying ‘Holy, You are.’DSC_0277

Rabbit Hole War Base

A quiet little rabbit hole
Come hear His Name
Sweet truths proclaimed
War preparations you’ll see
Defenses for those who can no longer fight
Through the darkness to see the light.

We’ve been deemed insane, once or twice
“There’s no battle coming
The only fight’s inside your mind”
We’ve been told times before
But now
The veil is tearing, revealing
Monsters hiding behind
Seemingly beautiful smiles.

Darling, come in!
There’s room, always room
Let Him hide you
Let Him heal you
The war’s been waged
And you find yourself caught
On the wrong side
He’s reaching, reaching
For you
Will you let His children
Help carry you out?
It will first take a leap
Recognize the cave you’re in
Beloved, it’ll be worth it
To escape those chains
Will you be carried out
Or remain in the miry pit?

We’re used to extremes
There’s no pain you can bring
From which we will shy
All we can do is turn you to Him,
The only One who heals
This is not a song of self-praise
This is a statement of faith
We are more than is seen
We are the quiet underground
Working to save lost and lonely souls
Caught in the raging sea.

Written in the Drought

My thoughts are bleeding
Piercing my skull with only the dullest blade
Torn images
Broken hopes
My last breath a whisper
HallelujahRevisedDSC_0006_079.jpgDSC_0006

Why must the world
Strive against itself?
I sense its walls crumbling
As I struggle to stand firm
Midst the rubble

Where’s Your Hand?
I’ve found it.
I feel it wrapping around
Lifting my soul above
I see it now
The earth’s not failing
It’s shedding the old skin
You’re coming soon
So the dead must be removed
I’m waiting
I’m ready

You’re my Higher Mountain
I’m dwelling in this
Internal Limberlost
None can see
I feel the breeze
Taste the river water
Hear the birdsong
Inhale the flowers’ fragrance
The raindrops form crystals
Upon my skin
Until the day You return
I will be here
Clinging to the Promise
Resting in garden You formed.

Sabbath

It’s strange, this feeling. I want to move, finish out the season with flying colors, be passionate about all the opportunities God has sent my way, but today, I can’t. We always are told to ask for His strength, to live off of it. But today, through various verses, through the words of my sister, through signs over doors, I sense Him telling me to finally be still. To complete only the tasks which bring repose, and not stress over the ones that, important as they are, can be done tomorrow. This is not a cry for procrastination, just the simple rest He may also be calling you to. These past twelve months have been a stormy sea of busyness and feeling stuck, but today I will choose to lay aside the projects I would so honestly love to complete, the ones that remind me that the future is beginning and adventure lies ahead, and instead grab a hot cup of somethin’, a blanket, and my Bible and rest in His Presence. The day’s last hours are His. RevisedDSC_0279_078.jpgDSC_0279 And tomorrow, I will rise with the sun, finish up all carried over to-do’s, and set to work. Tomorrow my hand will find the plow again. But for today, I will be still. Today I will simply breathe, and meditate on all He’s brought me through. Today I will push aside the doubts and hopes and fears and dreams, and relax in who He is. After all, His grace is an ocean, and we’re just sinking.

Written During the In-Between (Once More)

We’re headed back to ourRevisedDSC_0086_105
Desert garden
Once more.
Thank You…

Thank You
For stealing me away
Take me further
Into You
Into Your Presence
Once More.
Help me crave You
Search for You
Wildly again.

Passionately, you carried me
Back to the place where
My words were secret
Sacred
You and I alone
In the depths of this soul
Just discovering the dips of
Your own

And now You’ve released me
Back to spread this joy further
Is it yet time?
Shall we begin this love-journey
Once more?