As much as it hurts now,
As much as I wish this part was over,
I would never go back
to when it was easier.
Because, in so many ways
that ease was ignorance
that ease was mere emotion
Though part was conviction,
Conviction must be lived.
Conviction must be tested.
Conviction is trial;
a refinement in fire.
I would never go back
to when it was easier
to when I knew less of You
to when I loved You less
I feel as a Biologist that I am in a particular pursuit of the Father’s Heart.
I long to know the depth of every brushstroke, the tension in every thread of the tapestry-
I long so much to know the painter, to feel the weaver’s hands, that I can’t let the art remain untouched, unexamined. I must know Him.
I must find Him in vibrating webs and crumbling strata.
Death is too damn long to wait
for my urgent heart and starving mind.
Jesus, I’m hungry
Be my Bread
Jesus, I’m thirsty
Be my Wine
Jesus, I’m lonely
Be my Friend
Jesus, sleep evades me
Be my Rest
Jesus, I drown in sadness
Be my Joy
Jesus, lust assaults me
Be my Spouse
Jesus, I want You desperately
Be my End
Flesh of my flesh
And bone of my bone
I have a hollow
In my core
For which your flesh atone
I claim a body not my own
A body that is mine
but only mine to give
bone of my bone
To sanctify and sieve
Clearly you were made for me
And along one seam is sewn
Echoes of eternity
In flesh in one flesh
In bone of my bone
Every sin is the fruit of fear and willful ignorance.
The main reason your sanctification is taking so long is that God has to first convince you of the undeniable fact that you don’t know what you’re doing.
What horrors await the deep
wells of psyche, soul, and sleep,
where curdles shame, and joy is framed
in rigid, rusted, mortal chains
and will is ward to tide of whim
and purpose drowns in waves of sin
And shadows grind the fringe of time
Until the light of day recedes
Under what the demon Darkness breeds
I don’t want to wait
Because it feels like waiting to love you
But I know right now waiting
Is the only real way to love you
Every day must be Lent
And every hour must be Easter
Every earthly present must be Purgatory
So every eternal future can be Heaven
Soon I’ll find
to be a saint
is to live the eternal
where the evanescent remains
Backasswards 