This Bitter Grace

Follow Me

Follow me
get out of the boat
and follow me
What is my boat you ask
Leave all that is your security
Step out on waves and do not look back
do not look at the facts
that this water and these waves
surround you
they will surely drown you
But I say
Put your eyes in mine
Follow me
and you will walk on water

Follow me
take up your cross
and follow me
What is my cross you ask
Walk close to me
Walk with me in the margins of society
the path will truly become narrow
and lonely
such a hard road to walk
yet in a dark alley you will know
this love that breaks your heart
you will know there is no other way
walk as i walk and you will find yourself
carrying this cross i speak of
follow me and you will know
the fellowship of my suffering
and the power of my resurrection

The Lord is my Shepherd
I fear no evil
The voice of God
is my joy
that laughs
it walks up to the bars of hell
and dances on fire
There is no fear
in love
Perfect love
casts out fear
Throws it into the garbage can
slams down the lid
with no regard for it
And so love is stronger than hate
and there is no fear
in the face of this evil
Grace annoints my steps
I am flesh and blood
I cannot go anywhere
but the Spirit of God
breathes its way
through bars of steel
and Jesus shows up
in a room with no doors
This is why I can laugh
in the parking lot of this hell hole
The spirit of God
is upon me
How can I help but prophecy
Come on little butterfly
Leave the shell of your
damned abandoned saddened cell
Come out clean and
Come out free

The Executed God: The Way of the Cross in Lockdown America

Select Few may find inspiration in this 29 page disposition:
The Executed God: The way of the Cross in Lockdown America
http://org.law.rutgers.edu/publications/law-religion/articles/RJLR_1_1_2.pdf

Thursday, January 24, 2008

• Psalm 151: A Psalm for the Working Poor

  Though I walk through alleys of shadowy death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.
  My Protector and my Shield. After dark You walk me home.
  Where can I go and not find You?
  When I rest in a warm apartment, you are there.
  When I make my bed in the gutter, you are there.
  When I choke on my tears and turn from my friends, then sell my body for a cheeseburger, even then Your hand can reach me.
  Whenever I say, “I’m cold and it’s dark. Tomorrow I die,” You light dazzling street lamps and provide me a coat. Even in the darkness, you see me clearly.

  Excerpt from Burnside Writers Collective :
  http://www.burnsidewriterscollective.com/social/2007/12/editors_note_this_

Love

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Trash Can

tattoo