PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You were there in the midst of my creation,

Molding fingers and toes,

Planting my life's purpose like a seed in my mind,

Only to have You, the Gardener,

Water, and fertilize to make it grow,

To the point that I could see the seed within.

ONLY YOU know my purpose,

ONLY YOU can and have revealed it to me.

Now, maybe I can try to take care of this seed,

    Take care of what I can do,

    Make myself open to your plans, your vision.



In my youth,

I called out to you,

"Prove yourself!  

Give me reason that I can see, hear, and touch you,

So that I might have FAITH."

I needed proof, that you existed in my hurts,

In my despair, that you ultimately cared,

When I thought you were too far away to even understand.

And you appeared,

An angel in the flesh.



I remember the day,

Praying until my head ached,

Praying for the release of demons,

Praying to release me of my burdens,

        to the chains that drug me down.

YOU WOULD NEVER ACCEPT MY LESBIANISM.

AND I COULD NEVER ACCEPT BEING ALONE.



I remember, sitting there in the library,

Of that one horse town.

Your angel appeared.

I did not hear her enter the library,

I did not feel her presence.

Then suddenly, she spoke...



"GOD HEARS YOUR EVERY PRAYER, AND HE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.

DO NOT KILL YOURSELF, IN ALL EFFORTS TO ENTER HEAVEN'S GATES,

WITH YOUR VIRTUE INTACT.  YOU CANNOT BE SINLESS IN FRONT

OF HIM."



I asked the angel her name,

And she identified herself.

I remembered the Bible saying all spirits of good

Will identify themselves, for they have nothing to hide,

But evil will constantly try and deceive you.

Then, she walked out the door.

It may have only been three seconds,

And I ran out the door, looking for her.

SHE, was not there, she vanished into thin air.

But your immense power overwhelmed me,

Why would you, GOD, come to me?

I doubted, and I ran.



I pushed the thought of you so far away,

But every time my life ran into you,

By will or accident, this seed inside grew.



I cried out,

"GOD, I am not a leader,

I am not a person to put in a responsible position

Over your flock.

I will mess up,

I don't know how to organize,

I don't know how to balance my own personal life,

I can't do this."



I got my answer from you within seconds,

"DO NOT THINK YOU CAN, BY YOURSELF.

The flock will hear me, not you,

IF YOU KEEP YOUR EYES ON ME.



DO NOT INTERPRET THE SPIRIT,

LET MY SPIRIT INTERPRET YOU."



And so this seed has grown...

The long vines wound their way between my window panes,

After I had long since shut the window.

It's leaves blocked my view of how I wanted things to be done.

And there is no more pruning,

For the vine and the roots,

Have compromised the foundation,

Impaling all my rationalizations,

And setting all my personal desires running for cover,

Because the house I built, is no longer safe.



Today is a new day,

I have long since been armed with the PROOF of GOD.

I must take what HE has given, what HE provides,

Because I am tired of making houses that this seed destroys.



Beyond the straight and narrow path,

And the one wide and crooked,

Is yet another.

"MY CHILD, IF YOU STEP OUT WITH ONE FOOT,

I WILL CLEAR THE WAY.

I WILL MAKE A PATH FOR YOU,

IF YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES, LET YOUR HEART DESIRE ONLY ME,

AND YOU FOLLOW WHERE I TAKE YOU WITH MY HAND,

I WILL MAKE A WAY AND YOU WILL SEE THE PATH."



Lord, I have tried so hard to kill the seed.

I have taken my experience with you and hid it,

Ran from it, rationalized it as random and chance,

And even excused it off as delirium or hocus pocus in nature.

I pray that you will be my fulcrum, my retainer.

Without balance, I am unable to do anything for you,

I know it.



But if you will set both hands under both sides of the plank,

And I close my eyes to trust you,

Then maybe, WE can get through this together.

I am not scared for myself,

I am scared of your choice in me,

Keep me ever humble to you.

I hear such phrases as,

"GOD DOESN'T MAKE GARBAGE."

"WHO BETTER BUT GOD WOULD KNOW WHAT HE IS DOING?"

Even more ruminating...swarming all around in my head,

And my FAITH knows all is possible with you,

But my man-made logic, keeps me in doubt, my body is weak.



I am taking that step onto an unviewable road,

And going into that dark forrest,

But even beyond the Garden of Gethsemane WAS ALL GLORY.



Lord, make me your servant,

Like the horse,

In my one-horse town.