Fresh Air…

On late Thursday night, G and I packed up the boys for a late night drive to Raleigh; the trip to see a few of my college best friends was well worth the effort. I forget how sweet it is to be around the people who knew you then and still know you now, even though you rarely see one another. Besides laughing harder than I have in a good long while (mostly thanks to Krissie and the honest stories about her life, including but not exclusively, the deer that she hit and sent flying through the air and her crazy high school students), I was so refreshed by the conversations we had while hanging out all day. Not that the conversations we had were light-hearted, in fact, they were honest, challenging, discomforting in so many ways. But talking honestly about our broken natures and how far we are from who we all are intended to be somehow brought me back into deep gratitude for the God who chose to set his eyes upon us for good. We are messed up people in messed up churches with really messy lives; but we are His, His sovereignty is on our side, He is faithful to us. I know I know that, but I honestly get so used to telling people that, saying that hearing that. I just forget how incredible it is that He gave me a heart to know and love Him; this just should not be!

They really were and are fresh air to me; already longing for the next time we actually get to hang out.  this is a poem I wrote a few weeks ago upon finding out more messiness in the Church! Oh, that I would live like this were true!


Fallenness breaks in; rebellion reeks and spreads like leaven,

Knocking the wind out of me, leaving me ready for Heaven.

Another saint, another sibling caught in sin’s deadly snare,

Darkness, brokenness through the House of Light rage and tear.

I’m tempted to judge, to scoff in scorn and point in contempt,

Until You remind me that no one from such evil is exempt.

With great humility we should look upon another fallen saint

For the same potential in us lurks, ever ready any goodness to taint.

We have a borrowed righteousness, our goodness is not our own;

Left to ourselves, apart from grace, we’d practice evils yet unkown.

Oh, Lord, spare us, lest we fall while proudly thinking ourselves strong,

Only your intervening mercy keeps us from practicing every kind of wrong.

May these fallen brethren in this devastation grow strong in your grace,

And as they embrace deep forgiveness, may the better reflect your face.

The ones who are forgiven much have all the more love to dole out,

The humble sinner your covering love can never forget nor doubt!

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