"Waiting" by P4CM

"So it seemed that it was cool for everyone to be in a relationship but me.
So I took matters into my own hands, and ended up with him.
Him who showed characteristics of a liar and a thief.
So why was I surprised when he broke into my heart?
I called 911 but I was cardiac arrested for aiding and abetting cause it was me who let him in.
Claiming we were "just friends."

It was already decided for me from first date that even if he wasn't I was going to make him the one.
You know, I was tired of being alone and I simply made up in my mind that it was about that time, so I decided to drag him along for the ride, cause I was always the bridesmaid and never the bride.
A virgin in the physical but mentally just a grown woman on the corner in heat who was tired of the wait.
So I was going to make him the one.

He had a form of Godliness, but not much.
But but hey, I can change him! So I'll take him. He's close, enough.
Ready to sell my aorta for a quarter not knowing the value of what used to be.
Arteries so clogged with my will that it blocked His will from flowing through me.
So I thank Christ that it gave this heart an attack, flat line obscured vision put me flat on my back.
Through my ignorance He saw, so through my sternum he sawed to crack open my chest to transplant Psalm 51:10--a renewed heart and a renewed spirit within me--so that I thoroughly understand and better yet fully comprehend how much I need to wait... for you.

See, the bad thing is that I knew he wasn't you from the beginning.
Cause in the beginning was the Word and he didn't even sound or shine like your son.
Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks and all he could whisper were sweet empty nothings, which meant nothing.
He couldn't even pray when I needed him to and asking hin to fast would be absurd so forget about being cleansed and washed with water through the Word.

But I know you.
You're already praying for me.
Even though you haven't met me let me assure you that I will wait for you.
I will no longer date, socialize, or communicate with carbon copies of you to appease my bordom or to quench my thirst for attention and short lived compliments from sorta-kindas.
You know, he's sorta kinda right but sorta kinda wrong.
His first name's Luke, last name Wrong.

I won't settle for false companionship.
I won't lay in the embrace of his arms attempting to find some closeness but never feeling so far apart cause I just want to be held. Because all I have to do is say no.
No more almost sessions of almost coming close. Passing winks and buying drinks and "Imma imma imma flirt."
Who flirts with the ideology of, "can you just tell me how much I can get away with and still be saved?"

No more. I'll stay in my bed, alone, and write poems about how I will wait for you.
He won't even come close. Our fingers won't even interlock. We won't even exchange breath because I have thoughts that are saved that as God our Father only equips YOU to open.
I will no longer be graded down from so called friends and family talks talking about concern for my biological clock when I serve the author of time...
who is not subject to time but I am subject to Him and He has the ability to stop, fast forward, pause, rewind at any given time so
if we could role play you would be Abraham and I would be Sarah, or you could be Isaac and I'll be Rebecca-- a servant's answered prayer, "I am bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh,
made up of your rib, Adam."
And once me meet, like electrons I will be bound to your nucleus completely indivisible, atom.
We even speak the same math; 1 + 1 +1 = 3 which really equals 1 if you add'em.

We were all created in his image, but you have the ability to respect, detect, and even reflect the Son.
If I were to explain what you look like you would have to look like a star, a son of the Sun and I would gain energy simply from the light that you shine on me.
I would need you in order to complete my photosynthesis.
I await your revelation but again from the genesis, I will wait for you...

and I will know you.
Because when you speak, I will be reminded of Solomon's wisdom. Your ability to lead will remind me of Moses. Your faith will remind me of Abraham. Your confidence in God's word will remind me of Daniel. Your inspiration will remind me of paul. Your heart for God will remind me of David. Your attention to detail will remind me of Noah. Your integrity will remind me of Joseph. Your ability to abandon your own will will remind me of the disciples.
But your ability to love selflessly and unconditionally will remind me of Christ.
I won't need to identify you by any special Matthews or any special Marks, cause His word will be tatted all over your heart.

And you will know me, and you will find me
where the boldness of Esther meets the warm closeness of Ruth.
Where the hospitality of Lydia is aligned with the submission of Mary which is engulfed in the tears of a praying Hannah.
I will be the one drenched in Proverbs 31, waiting for you.

But to my Father, my Father who has known me before I was birthed into this earth, only if you should see fit.
I seek your will above mine so even if you call me to a life of singleness I will be content, for you are the one who was sent.
You are the greatest love story ever told, the greatest love ever known.
You are forever my judge and I'm forever your witness.
and I pray that I always find it my mission to go about my Father's business.
I will always be yours, and I will always wait for you Lord, more than the watchmen wait for the morning.

More than the watchmen wait for the morning, I will wait."





-written and performed in spoken word by Janet, official P4CM poet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igCj3jsbcqs

Evil and Truth

"Do not be overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good." -Romans 12:21

A tight, thick air fills my dimly lit evening room, slowly creeping toward my resting body. Evil sits at the foot of my bed, his chin resting calmly on his hands, eyes peering at me with cool interest. His eyes dance quizzically as he sees my hand absentmindedly reach for a small heart necklace that was once an anchor to me. With an undetectable flick of the wrist, the air tangibly shifts. Wispy silver chains slink around me, immobilizing the wrists that I did not realize were clenched. My eyes are resting on a cool gray wall that was, moments ago, melancholy. It changes silently, giving way to a frightening picture show flashing images of shame and confusion from my past. My face lights up with pain. I never have been one who could hide emotion.

Malice eventually grows bored and turns his gaze to someone else. I am left motionless, completely numb. People wordlessly buzz in and out of the room. My fist slowly falls open, revealing a glimmering dust that comprises what is left of the necklace. It settles around the room, making sure that I breathe it in at all times.

Sleep seduces me. Time races forward and I feel like I am upside down and underwater.

I suddenly hear a great clash, like twisting metal and some great shrieking animal. The sound deeply startles me, as though my ears had been full for years and are finally free. I find my orientation and look up to see Sin's chilly facade slipping as a middle-eastern man with rough hands and kind eyes strides across the floor.

I realize that they are fighting for me. Fighting over my soul. Evil and Truth, locked in a battle that had began before I was born.

I flash suddenly back into my room, and things look different. Everything speaks with a hard, sharp focus. There are a million reasons to cover my eyes, but I breathe deeply and know that I don't have to. I recall the face of Beauty stepping in front of me, lifting His arms in my honor.


.
.
.
Christ will never leave you or forsake you. In your darkest times, He is there. I am learning that the sadness I am haunted by on this earth is nothing compared to the joy I will have spending eternity with my creator. I can dance and laugh and sing without fear of the future.

"The thief does not come but to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it abundantly." -John 10:10

like marbles from my mouth

moisture fills the air
melting away any facade held dear
paint drips in the rain
my head aches with memories
eyes search the room
looking for someone to hold on to

the feeling increases
my face transparent
eyes closed
as I realize how strange I must seem
how little I belong here

the new words feel bitter on my tongue
unwelcome change yanks on my arm
pulls me down
I drop my gaze
knowing I need to walk away
unsure of what to do with these unspoken thoughts
dropping like marbles from my mouth
I leave them wordlessly at your feet
backing away into my shame

my arms feel cold
my bed too spacious
I wish time could tumble forward
furiously trickle past this limbo
jump into welcome arms
knowing all the pain had its purpose

for now, I sit
hugging my legs
chin tucked down
listening to my own breathing
the clock
ticks
too loudly in my ears
relentless

nostalgia grabs me by the throat
and my flesh eagerly replies
too willing to scream
betraying my soul
locked in a devious battle

I am bolted down to this place
paralyzed by mediocrity and residual stains
from a sinful world
I slam my eyes upward
and hear Yahweh's voice whisper for the first time

I feel a single drop of grace
splash on my cheek
stuck glistening on my eyelashes

I start from the cold
blink twice and realize
this, is home.

the noose around my neck

While reading through Luke on this Easter weekend, it is easy to hate the Biblical Bad Guys. Luke does such a good job of laying out the antagonists and protagonists, clearly black and white. The Pharisees--man you just really love to hate those guys!

First, they arrest Jesus without reason. They could have done it earlier on in the temple in a peaceful manner, but no, they waited until the cover of darkness and came with swords and clubs. Okay, strike one Pharisees. You come armed for an innocent man in the middle of the night? Not okay.

Then jump forward to the morning. They drag Jesus infront of the council, the high priest, and a huge crowd and ask Him point blank, "Tell us, are you the Messiah? Are you claiming to be the son of God?" Jesus says, yep that's what I've been telling you all along. What do the Pharisees do? Weeeell let's take him to Pilot for questioning. Then when Pilot finds no fault in Him, hey let's drag him to Herod! Strike two guys. Everyone keeps telling you of Jesus' innocence, and yet you scream for his murder.

The worst though, just the worst, is when the crowd roars for the release of Barabbas. They are given the choice to have Jesus--a clearly innocent man--or Barabbas--a known murderer--walking around society. They chose Barabbas. STRIKE THREE, GUYS!

Oh and you know who else is just so easy to disgust? Judas. Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve apostles, who sold the whereabouts of Jesus to the Pharisees in the first place for 30 pieces of silver. Then he has the nerve to walk up to Jesus and kiss his face. Jesus questions him, "Judas, would you betray the son of man with a kiss?" OH SNAP! You know, at least Judas has the decency to go and hang himself after it is finished.

Then there's Peter. Peter, one of the men that Jesus calls brother. Jesus TELLS Peter that he is going to deny Him. "Before the rooster crows tomorrow morning, you will deny three times that you even know me," Jesus tells him TO HIS FACE. And what does Peter say? "Lord, I am ready to go to prison with you, even to die with you." You would think that after hearing something like this, that maybe Peter would think twice at his life decisions. Maybe he could, say, chose not to go in the morning to avoid DENYING THE SON OF GOD! Eh, whatever says Peter. Then, when a little servant girl, of all people, says "Hey this man was one of Jesus' followers!" Peter freaks out and says not once, but three times, "Woman I do not even know him! I don't know what you are talking about!" You would think that maybe the first one or two times he would have a red flag, but no. Three times, Peter. Three times.

Such stupid men, you think, while reading this story. It is so easy to liken yourself to Mary or Mary Magdelene, thinking "if I had been there, I would have kissed his feet and wept. I would have been faithful. I would have tried to stop the injustice." The bad guys were just inherently evil. It even says in scripture that Satan entered Judas before he became a total sellout and betrayed the Messiah sent to save the world.

And yet, deep down, there is something more. Like a pill that doesn't go down quite right, or a wound that never seems to heal properly--there is a catch to these scriptures from Luke. At first glance, I see those who are soaked in the river of Jesus' blood and I so easily blame them. I see Christ standing on the shore, clean of sin and looking toward the sky. I picture myself walking to the shore and grasping onto the pristine robes of the lamb, my Messiah. I keep trying to look at His face, but I have to turn away. I am forced to cast my eyes downward. This is when I see that my grip is dripping with blood, ruining the robes covering the sweet Jesus.

When I finally let myself think about who these men were, I see that I am them.

I am Peter, every time I choose not to speak about the man who came to earth to save me and instead try to enforce my own will above His. I am Judas, every time I forgo the truths I know to be holy and choose instead to drink, swear, gossip, lust, show impatience. I am the Pharisees, every time I choose not to show forgiveness and love. When I deny Christ even in my thoughts, He hears. He knows that through my sin, I have taken up the mallet and helped to drive the nails into his feet. Through my viscousness I have flogged His back, ripping open His flesh. He knows that I deserve the wrath of God.



...and yet, He loves me. He looks down at my bloodied hands and accepts the wounds. He takes me gently by the face and whispers, "For you, my child."

His sacrificial love has such depth that it leaves me absolutely terrified. My body physically shakes when I finally realize the true gravity of what happened on that hilltop near Jerusalem. I am overcome with disgust at myself, and try to focus on that. I can't bare to move past this because if I do, it means that everything I have gathered around myself here on earth, everything to which I have devoted my entire life, everything in which I have found my identity--everything is worthless. That ecclesiastes is true. That Philippians is true. That the word of God is completely, utterly, undeniably true. If I let myself look upon the face of Jesus, it would mean that to die would truly be gain.

I wear a cross around my neck, but have never given it a lot of thought. I have always considered myself to be a good Christian girl. Wearing the cross necklace was just part of the get-up. Yet I am staggered by the realization of what this pendant means. I am wearing the murder weapon of my Savior. I am wearing a gun, a knife, a noose. In the past, I have let people's questioning gaze on my Christian regalia give me a little boost of selfish confidence. I have thought to myself that by decorating myself with Christian symbols that I could somehow prove to everyone else that I am above them, above all of this, and already with the King of eternity.

I look at the cross hanging around my neck now and see who it is for. I see that it is for the Pharisees, for Judas, for Peter, and every creature on God's earth. It symbolizes the love so awe-inspiring that it makes me tremble. The cross is not for me, Lindsey. No, indeed, the cross is for me--Lindsey Daughter of Yahweh, God's child. His princess, His sweetheart, His child. I am His. I have torn at His flesh with my sin, but He will never let go.

I now humbly wear this noose around my neck, knowing that one day I will be with the man who willingly wore it in my place.