Dear,


God,

How I love thee as I sin,

How I love thee as I cry;

How I love the as I look upon

The work your hands have made.


But I fear I fall more and more

In love with You for Your Works,

when

I want to fall in love with you.


Re: Dear,

I am in my works

I am He:

Who was,

and is,

and is to come.

I am.

I am He who gives mercy on whom I will,

And I have

opened your eyes

Given you life, given you freedom

And you have taken my mercy,

My favored child whom I love.


This, this Beauty before you: Take it.

I give freely to you; Love it.

Partake in all my Goodness- Taste it.


Come, rest thy head in me

My beloved child whom I love.

Yes, cry.

Feel it.

Feel me more in you,

and to you,

and through you.


Seek not me ( because you can’t).

Just fix your eyes,

open your arms,

and allow Me


To allure you with all that is before you;

Allow me to smash your idols as I

Whisper tenderly in your ear:

Sweet Everythings


Child,

I plea,

I cry,

I run,

I will,

I endeavor,

I die

That you will allow this burden to fall

And just taste

(that’s all you will need,

but return as you might,

To all Beauty I surround you with.)


Child, just taste and you will see

I am Good.


I do all things for the sake of my children,

Child.

I love you.


Enjoy,

How to be a Christian at Virginia Commonwealth University & Hopefully Maintain the Respect of those Around You


You will decide to go Virginia Commonwealth University after being accepted into both The College of William & Mary and Liberty University. Your school will want you to go to William & Mary. Your youth group will want you to go to Liberty.

You will–for a reason unknown to you–not go to William & Mary but never regret the decision for even a second. Your school friends will not care as much as you’d expect.

You will not go to Liberty because it is Liberty University, but you will tell people it’s because you couldn’t stand being in a place where everyone agreed with you. Your youth group will care much more than you’d expect. They will keep accidentally forgetting you aren’t going to God’s school, Liberty, but keep purposely forgetting you are going to Satan’s school, VCU.

First and foremost, upon arrival, understand that every word you say in some way, shape, and form can and will offend someone. You realize this is a fact; you get used to it and quit your whining.

Also, you will understand it is by the very nature of who you are that every word will be scrutinized, analyzed, and criticized for every error inherent in the words you say. Sometimes, they will find said errors. Understand that no, contrary to the victory smile on their faces, these moments do not amount to the complete and utter destruction of the past 2,000 years of Christian belief and thought.

Next, ignore last point and treat the survival of Christianity as the weight borne on your shoulders and only yours. Understand that yes, the whole of God’s will for the earth is in your hands to make or break.

Remind yourself again this isn’t true.

Never, ever under any circumstances use the a-word, the b-word, s-word, gd-phrase, or the worst of all: the f-words. (Note for the pagans, these words are: Absolutist, Book of Revelation, Sin Nature, Gays & Damnation, Fundamentalist & Falwell)

You will try your hardest to tell the liberal intellectual elitist feminist urban artists that you don’t think that voting Republican is a stated Christian virtue. They will not believe you and continue to call you closed-minded and spoon-fed by your parents to always vote Republican. You will grow accustomed to these phrases being applied to you. Other wonderful colloquialisms to look out for: intolerant, racist, misogynist, homophobic, Jew-hater, prideful, arrogant, radical, Mel Gibsonite, asshole, and “fucking God-lover.”

Every once and a while, to show people you are not a legalistic Pharisee- say a curse word. You shouldn’t use it as an expletive, though. Be sure to only use it sparingly to sprinkle conversation with colour. Make sure it’s funny.

Live with a Buddhist, an Atheist, and a Jew. You will get no sleep for the entire year you do so, but the parties, sex, and the food will make up for it. You will abstain from the first two activities. You will partake in the third. Again: you will partake in the third.

Do things that people wouldn’t expect Christians to do. These may include having gay friends, voting Democrat, watching rated-R movies, kissing girls, admitting you’re wrong, not judging people, talking about your sins and weaknesses, working on Sundays, being active in politics, giving money to people, forgiving people, missing church on a Sunday to help someone else, reading, and pretty much being a real, feeling, loving human.

You will go through many faith crises. You will be scared to tell anyone about them because the Christians will shame your doubt, and the Non-Christians will gloat in the seeming affirmation of their beliefs (or rather, disbeliefs). You will start to view yourself as isolated in the world, with only God and some feeble hope for a future earthly love beside you to keep you going.

You will constantly hear that people only use religion as a crutch. You will feel the violent urge to prove this wrong while God is whispering in your ear the entire time to just rest your head on His shoulder as He holds you and wipes away your tears. You relent, but not as often as you should.

You will need to always be right, always be strong, always be secure and interesting, never wavering in any of this lest those around you think they have stood victorious over Almighty God.

Embrace all this.

You will realize that God is God even if you are not.

You will realize that the pains of life you go through will help you relate to and love more people than you could ever imagine. They will become your joy in a strange, quiet, unspeakable way.

You will realize that God saves people; you don’t.

Weight upon weight, burden upon burden, will fall away as you see that you are meant to glorify this God by enjoying Him, being satisfied in Him, and rooting your joy and pleasure in Him, in an eternal, unshakeable place that no situation, power, or seemingly wise human can touch. This will make you happy.

Still, people will be offended by everything you say. They will either misunderstand or understand all too well that which you have tried to soften through tact. Tact will be both your best friend and worst enemy. Love to hate to love it.

Be sure to accept early on that the most sensitive issues are the ones that will come up the most: Free Will, Abortion, Homosexuality, and most of all, Hypocrisy.

You will slowly realize that every form of disbelief is rooted in a past pain inflicted on someone by a Christian, the Church, or seemingly by a misunderstood God. No disbelief is purely intellectual. You will see, it’s a heart issue, not a mind issue. You will spend almost all your time apologizing for all other Christians everyone has ever met, trying to be the one exception to the rule.

You will love dearly, and hurt greatly.

You will pray for those around you, late into the night, knees raw from the carpet beneath them, eyes red from the tears streaming down, and knuckles white from passion. The word that will come across your lips more than any will be “Why”. It will be answered rarely.

Still, you will go on. You will go on because your very will has been seized by a Sovereign stronger than you; because your very affections and desires have been changed, your spiritual taste buds delighting in the taste of the glory of God more than the glory of You. His glory just tastes so much better to your soul. You were made for this, meaning you will be more truly yourself by delighting in God than you ever were in fighting against Him.

Oh, and before it is forgotten, you must be told that you will learn all the various ways of saying you’re a virgin. “Proud v-card carrier,” “ridin’ the v-train,” ‘member of the v-club with a prime parking space beside the pool,” and “Yes, I’m a virgin” are some of the more popular ones.

Everyone will think your purity ring/promise ring/v-ring is a wedding ring. They will all ask about it. Form an answer early on and stay consistent; this will be easiest.

You will try to not ever sound “preachy” but passionate, but everyone will think you are preaching at them and will not like it. You will, inevitably, despite all your greatest efforts, speak too much, listen too little, and write “how to” guides that start off really funny, have way too abrupt of a tonal change half-way through and then become really serious, only to try and salvage some humor towards the end, probably to no avail.

Life will be good, because, as you will see, God is.

To sum up the experience, you will love and embrace the eccentricities of a meta-existential cognitive living with teleological features leading to a psychotheolgical eschatological perspective of its consummation being in an increasingly Christian hedonistic affective eternality.

In other words, you will be the only one that really understands the things that come out of your mouth, as absurd as they are. Get to know His words more. You will then know Love in all His depths, and from this, you will learn to love others as He has loved you,

and in that you will find the key to it all.

Good luck, and God speed.

[Note: this was an assignment I did for my Scotland Creative Writing Course. It is a stylized parody piece off of the famous “How to . . .” prose pieces from Lorrie Moore.]

"Extended Engagement" From John Singer Sargent’s "Madame Erraruiz," ver. 2


What is it can act as deity,
And cause your blushing lips to turn?
The art? The artist?

What romance lies within your thought?
What word are you about to say:
“Mine forever”?

Do you long for one to approach
And so carefully, delicately,
Deliberately
Lightly brush your cheek
As the single stroke of the brush?

Do your lips burn from
The fresh application of the hue
So as to bring him to you
And push that bang to the side
Caress your head in his hand
And suspend you in disbelief?

Oh Madame in sublimity,
Do teach us how we can catch
A glimpse of One like you just long enough
To paint a picture for ourselves
and know we can
attain that which we seek: to
feel
know
experience
Love
Love & Romance as it seems you finally have.

"Extended Engagement" From John Singer Sargent’s "Madame Erraruiz," ver. 1


The Wistful, winsome, andwitty,
A girlish charm in every stroke;
A touch of gray and bit o’ gold.
A bashful look in which he took:
Beauty candid the elder behold.

Staccato continuity
Minimalist within thy sweeps
Maximimalist; in thy pathos.
Evidences caress thy cheek:
Hallward’s success still rather close

at hand to perfect purity.
Your soul’s quintessence forever known,
Yet ambiguity reigns here still;
For coquettishness is ever not
without source compelling will.

What is it can act as deity,
And cause blushing lips to turn?
What romance lies within your thought?
Behind your eyes what image runs,
And is it true or all for naught?

Oh Madame in sublimity,
Do teach us how we can catch
A glimpse of One just long enough
To paint a picture and know we can
– feel –
– know –
– experience –
– Love –

_______ Love & Romance though so tough.

A Portrait of the Artist as God


Summer is over. The autumn rains
Have descended like tears from an invisible god.
I lie on this rock, the ringing of the isle’s name
drips off my ear
along with the stampede of water rushing
rushing through the silence

Clothed with beauty,
I began to understand,
The source of Jupiter-Zeus
And begin to form my own mythology
Within the realm of reality

I see the personality of the wind
The fright of the trees
the whispers of the water
The art of the sky the song of nature
My altar erected;
I now understand

My heart in one accord, in that which I was made for
Worship of somethings someone anything
never nothing
In hopes of finding joy.

But,
As I lie in the midst of beauty’s nature’s beauty
I grow sad because:
For although they knew him,
they did not honor him as such
or give thanks to him,
but they became futile in their thinking,
and their foolish hearts were darkened.

Claiming to be wise,
they became fools,
and exchanged the glory of the immortal for images
resembling mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles.

Because they exchanged the truth about him for a lie
and worshiped and served the creation rather than
the Creator.

And I am no different.

“My Cali Girl?” (a poem)


Oh, God, I knew it!!

Right when I stopped seeking
is right when I would find
the right one!
I mean, the right one? Because I don’t know . . .

First inductee into the club of my infatuation
So many years ago, but only for a time.
Shot down once, so I moved right along,
Losing closeness day by day, week by week, month by month
Class by class

But now you’re back-
But I thought you left!
Off to see the real sunset and the real ocean,
And the real you; but nonetheless.

Strange occurrences accompany this new reacquaintance:

Images of rings and white
and things so right
flood my conscious mind;
Images of laying and lying
And praying and dying
For You:

A face horizontal caressed by
sunlight slits through bedroom blinds
days, years after a honeymoon shared.
Counting wrinkles day by day
And counting sheep night by night
Beside you.

But the night is dark and hard to see
Are you the face that will set me free?
I strain my eyes, while confusion sets in,

And now you’re coming back, away from real sunsets, and real oceans,
The real you – Is it a sign?

Oh God, I don’t know it!

Copyright© 2005

Mem’ries from beside the Water-bed


Crumpled bed sheets, crumpled life
Crumpled woman upon the floor
Another night, another fight
Her son standing at her door
Numb and tingling all at the same moment.

Sobs and sucks of a snot stuffed nose
Invites the child inside . . .
To hold her, to love her, when no one else does.
He can’t even look at her when she cries.

The tears of mama are salt in the wound
of his seven or so years of life.
The smell of her Revlon-colored hair
Recalls the essence of the source of her pain:

Quote “marriage” to this weak quote “man”
Takes happiness from her grasp
The half-cocked smile of this half-cocked man
Turns the knife . . .
ever so slightly. . .

What comes to mind upon first entrance
of his face into my thoughts?

A reed swaying in the breeze
Dead chaff moving with the forces around it
Weakness, passivity, and pissed-off pessimism
Define that which I call “daddy” and what she calls “pain.”

Sometimes God Doesn’t Just Manifest Himself as a White-Bearded Guy in a Robe Bowling During Thunderstorms


Church Hill – no where else, God only above;
His warm arms hold me, His right hand leads me –
into peace and security and satisfaction and joy.
The personification and perfection of what is meant by
Home, what is meant by security, meant by hope, sustenance.
I feel His hands on my heart, my life, my strife,
Everything.
His warm arms surround every part of me.

But does the child have that?

In the Big Easy now the Big Difficult,
Can the arms of mama make the world a better place?
Will the waters recede at her touch? Only that
Which flows from his eyes can, will she brush away
With gentle tender arms, to
Soothe her sobbing son’s visage: blood-
Shot eyes peering from the black around.
Hunger pains. Hunger for Home, Security, Hope, Food.

Where are the arms of God there
that hold me so close and dear on my Church Hill of Calvary?

The arms of God are there in fact,

with dark, bruised skin,
a single shirt,
mud-caked legs,
tear-stained eyes,
and pain-shod memories.

He is there.

In fact, in a more real way than on that Hill of Church;
He is in every kiss of nappy head and ashy skin.
Indeed, both on Church Hill and in those waters,

there are truly just one set of footprints this day . . .

“On Fuel & Family, and the Costs Thereof” (a poem)


The cell burns from within the pocket
As the needle caresses the crimson “E.”
Justice questioned of the Almighty God
Over inevitability.

Car slows down, it’s time again
To press the speed dial “8;”
Re-bridging two worlds, renewing the scab-
Mom thinks all too late.

The red of the nylon vivid in hue
Tied to the basement rafter;
The blue of the note written on the washer
Heralding the hereafter;

The white of the face of dear old dad
Before kicking the chair from under him;
The brown of the sheriff ,came just in time,
To ring the bell and blunder him.

The images haunt the every thought
As gas necessitates the call
$2, $2.07, $2.75, $3
Causes this one to fall

Back to memories of screams and fights,
Of baseball bats and tears.
OPEC forces one still a child
To confront his darkest years

First once a month, then once a week,
Now once every couple of days.
Mileage doesn’t mean so much
anymore. . . .

Crude incites cruel making distance hit home

The sins of the father.
Justification.
All he’s good at – selfish ways.
Never really seeking the God of this earth
The only thing to save him.

Laying down a family at the altar of his god:
His excuse, his past, his illness, his, his his
Never hers
When she’s deserved it all.

One desires not to talk about it, one never does. Living away, detached from the reality, still hurting.

Pain. Pain. Pain. Tears of pain, fulfilling a role one never meant to fulfill:
surrogate husband to a broken mother.

Making a man of the child but still hurting her in the process.
Just . . . don’t . . . know . . .

Satisfaction and faith in Almighty God
Restores order to it all.
My only real Daddy in this entire world,
No matter “what” I have to call.

One strange paradox defining my world:
Joy, satisfaction, abundant life!!
Amidst all the pain of family hurt –
The constant signs of strife.

Provision not the source of belief,
Rather a recent application.
The value I hold, for my Lord, my God;
Mirrors the gas price of this nation. . .

Copyright© 2005

Peace, Peace


The hard followed by
The soft . . .
Then the long . . .
The pleasant crescendo of the hard.
Ending on the candle going out (“ps”)
Coming full circle once more.

“Perhaps” is the most beautiful word in the world.

Possibility, room to grow.
Ambiguity, all we know,
For now we look as in a tarnished mirror
But then we will know fully.
Until then, what can be achieved?

“Perhaps” is the most beautiful word in the world.

Depraved, Deprived, De-prosed
The human condition not fallen
Rather plunged to abyss.
Redemption our only chance,
But who can save oneself from drowning?
Can salvation come when it’s against one’s nature?

“Perhaps” is the most beautiful word in the world.

Now sanctified, glorified, satisfied, beside you,
Inside your glory.
Wide-eyed to the sin inside I’ve died to
in your name.
Then one lost is now one found
Wanting to worship, praise, adore, please, obey, trust, honor, love, sacrifice, just be
for the mere fact of who He is. Nothing more. Nothing else needed.

From the state I was can I please an infinite being?
Be made into His likeness?
Be molded to his purpose?
Commune with him forever?
Let him become my satisfaction above all,
pleasure beyond pleasures,
joy of joys?
Can His joy really be made my strength?

“Perhaps” is indeed the most beautiful word in the world.

Selah

Via de la Rosa


It seems every night, before I lay my head to rest,
I ask myself
“how can I look at myself in the mirror?”

How did it all come to this?

This reflection is a snapshot of a fading glory
whose holiness
lies dying upon the sinking horizon of dusk.
—–
Has my spirit met it’s West?
Is my cup dry and cracked?
O God I pray to you above
to renew the joy of my salvation
that I once knew and loved (which was you)

—–
Complete slavery and submission to the world
are the new banners of my cause.
Going down for a new breath of air; feeling free
as the shackles tighten
and my breaths get shorter.

How did it all come to this?
—–
Has my spirit met it’s West?
Is my cup dry and cracked?
O God I pray to you above
to renew the joy of my salvation
that I once knew and loved (which was you)

—–
How did it all come to this?

I just want to be able to look in the mirrir again.
I just want to be able to look in the mirror again
and to see you face instead . . .
—–
Lord, take this cup from my hands and let me
pour myself into it.
My last stand is here and know as I cry to be
a lighthouse rather than the waves.

I will either fail or conquer
die or live;
but either way
I’m yours

This I give for you, bearing my tree through my
“Way of the Roses”
enduring the thorns and spittle upon my face.
This I do for you.

It ends now.

Father,
into your hands I commit my spirit.

It . . .
is . . .
finished. . .

Outward thinking


As most people know, I am a very dangerous mixture of a person.

First of all, I am an intellectual (this list is not in order of priorities of what I identify with more, it’s just for the sake of rhetorical flow) that feeds off ideas and knowledge; what makes me an intellectual rather than a pure nerd is that the knowledge I seek, discuss, and find I actually apply it to my life and adjust my behaviors accordingly. It’s not quite just simply memorizing useless facts. This gives me the storehouse from which I can pull info to tell people certain things.

Secondly, I am a Christian, which by its very nature gives me the responsibility and burden to tell people certain things.

Thirdly, my primary spiritual gift is as a teacher, which allows me the ability to tell people these things with a certain sense of authority (only from God, of course).

Fourthly and finally, the single adjective that can describe everything about me the best is the word “passionate” which gives me the desire to tell people certain things from that storehouse of knowledge in my head that so affects how I look at the world.

In short, I talk. A lot. I think I assume that others are like me and everything they hear they apply to the “big picture” of their worldview much like someone would apply a puzzle piece to a puzzle. That ‘s how I work. Don’t assume that I’m just constantly changing opinions. No, everyone knows that I have convictions. Rather, as is the case of spiritual truths, I believe the best way to understand God is to try to step back and apply each new truth you learn in your relationship with Him to the big picture of who he is. Most people hear a good sermon on God’s justice and then they proceed to fear Him until they hear a good sermon on His grace, after which they begin to just love Him and thank Him. I think in order to worship all parts of Him, we must be able to apply all truths, and all bits of knowledge to the big picture of who He is, not just as a long list of attributes on paper.

Anyway, my point is this. I have noticed in myself a definite spike in the level of discussions I’ve been having (both in quality and quantity) with Christians on deep theological concepts. a-millenialism vs. pre-millenialism and Charismatic/Pentacostal movements vs. Cessationsts have been the biggest topics. A lot of people don’t understand why I’ve been doing this; they continue to tell me that outside of salvation, this stuff doesn’t matter. That’s true and not true.

Where it is true that saving knowledge does not require a perfectly correct set of doctrinal beliefs, as I said above, each of these things affects our worldview – the filter through we which we see/feel/do all things.

So right now I am laying it all out there for everybody:
Though I spent most my life in a pre-millenialist, cessationist church indoctrination, I have since found those things to be unbiblical and incorrect. The truth, as I see it in God’s Word of a-millenialism and the full workings of the Holy Spirit have changed my walk with God in a way that I wish everyone could experience.

Finally, I come to my point of writing all of this tonight, including the preceeding poem (actually, they’re song lyrics, but I just put some loose structure on them and called it a poem). Those two theological things have for the first time began to give me the proper view of my spiritual walk: IT’S NOT ABOUT ME!! It’s about the Kingdom of God. Used to I was driven to evangelize out of fear for my friends, now I am driven by purpose – because to evangelize the lost is the only reason why I am still here on Earth rather in Heaven with God; it is my reason for living. That’s why I entitled this post “Outward thinking.” Because that is where we must all arrive; to a place of outward thinking where God will use the “foolishness of our preaching” even in spite of being “the chief of sinners.” God’s Will will be done in this Earth, and if I am to live up to my purpose, I must give God the chance for Him to execute that Will through me.

“I just want to be able to look in the mirror again and to see your face instead.”
“I will either fail or conquer, die or live, but either way I’m yours”
God I love you so much and fear you with all my heart. Help me not to get so wrapped up into intellectualism that it substitutes for you, because nothing can adequately do that. Help me be a true Christian that doesn’t obey you to get control or leverage, but rather obeys you to get more of You. Use me and my foolishness for your purposes O God.

Amen.

–Paul<