Adventurer w/o Borders: Writing and Poetry

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3月7日

A Prayer for the Daily Struggle

Why am I constantly withholding from You, Lord?
Why do I choose not to do what is right?
What is the value of the temporal things I hoard?
Why is it so hard to see choices as black and white?

Remind me, Lord, that You're my shield and sword,
That You provide for me day and night,
That, in heaven, is where my treasures are stored.
Let me not be tempted by Turkish Delight.

2月25日

Not Seeing the Whole Painting

The beauty of miracles in everyday life,
Is spread liberally throughout my day;
But even with vision as sharp as knife,
Too often I'm blind to God's display.

A spectrum of kindness from His hand,
Unrequited by my heart,
Is an intricate mural of painted sand
Whose observer must step away to see the art.

I labor in the details of the day
Too busy to appreciate the whole,
Like seeing each brushstroke of Claude Monet
But never seeing the sunrise in my soul.

4:40 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

2月9日

The Riddle of the Sphinx

The Riddle of the Sphinx:
What is the creature that walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon and three in the evening?

James 1:5-8
If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.

I once was a child
Crawling on all four;
Fascination running wild,
Wonders to explore.

Constantly, I would ask
Endless how's and why's;
You'd pour out your cask
Of answers, good and wise.

Then, I walked up right
With just two on the ground,
Proud of my reasoning might
And my own vocal sound.

I questioned Your wisdom
And boundaries that You drew
Only to be imprisoned
By my own world view.

Now, I humbly ask,
"What, Where, and How?"
With faith in Your answers
That I had not until now.

Today, I walk on three
With Your staff in my hand,
With my weight on Your wisdom,
Towards the promised land.

22:34 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

2月3日

The Struggle to Find Joy in My Trials

James 1:2-4
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

I struggle to find
Joy in my trials
For envy remains my master.

Though I pray,
That You'd take it away,
It wouldn't depart any faster.

My faith is an eaglet
Nudged from the nest
Struggling to take flight.

Unable to see
My glorious future
I envy the tethered kite.

Please, set my sight
Towards your rising sun
On the other side of eternity.

Then, blow your wind
Beneath my wings,
And let my faith defy gravity.

5:45 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

1月25日

Evaluating the Past Year on a Cold Winter Night

The winter season returns again,
Hours of solitude to weigh my life.
Its accusing wind cuts straight to the heart
More precisely than a surgeon's knife.

Were my deeds of this year past
Truly selfless and without blame?
Or were they only kindling scraps
To feed the hearth of my ego's flame?

I rummage through the snapshots in my mind
Looking for something of my Lord's desire.
Will I find warmth in His approving smile?
Is there any wood for that fire?

14:30 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

1月2日

16:54 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

11月19日

Call Me Job

What of me do they desire
That Heaven and hell should conspire
To allow the evil one
To feed me a daily dose
Of hell's eternal fire.

Is it not enough that I gave Him my heart?
Must He give it to the evil one to tear apart?
Like some twisted autopsy
Performed, while I still am alive,
By some deranged René Descartes?

I beg for assurance that my faith is not in vain.
A word from heaven would be enough to sustain
What little hope that I have left
To ride out this torturous night
And see Heaven smiling once again.

I cling to the horizon waiting for the sun
For the hour when His will for me would be done
And He would be pleased that I endured.

4:05 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

10月24日

A Cry from One who Wanders the City Street

Something unusual happened to me that caught me complete by surprised. A block south of the Washington Monument (the original one in Baltimore) on Charles Street, I was stopped by a homeless man who didn't want food or money. He said that since accepting Jesus as his Lord and Savior, the Lord has been providing for all his needs. All he wanted was a hug. He explained that because he has AIDS, he has not had any human touch in a very long time. But he assured me that all his sours are currently healed so I am not endangered of contracting the disease from him.

As I hugged him, he broke down and started crying streams of tears. At which point, he broke off our embrace because he didn't want any of his body fluid to get on me. Suddenly, he quickly ran off.

Although I constantly keep an eye out for him when I'm in that neighborhood, I never saw him again.

No longer does tomorrow exist for me,
Just the recurrence of subsequent todays,
Because hope is tomorrow's admission fee;
And mine is buried beneath a hundred clichés.

Tell me I'm more than the sum of body parts.
Tell me I'm not reduced to nothing by my sorrow.
Open your arms and share the warmth of your heart.
Rekindle my soul to see again tomorrow.

7:48 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

10月15日

In the Service of Our King

Depart, if you seek the glories of war.
It is not what this march is for.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

We march long and hard among the deads
Down this nocturnal road where evil treads,
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Meals of only His wine and bread.
In remembrance of his thorn crowned head.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Charges of dragoons and snipers' fires
Laid our comrades on funeral pyres.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Howitzer fires, and shrapnel and flak
No artillery piece could turn us back.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Belt, breastplate, helmet and shield
Protect us in the potter's field.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Our weapon is His Spirit's sword
The Word of God which can't be ignored.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Tempted to give chase when we pierced their flanks.
The line, we hold steady, we don't break ranks
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Patiently we wait for His trumpet's call
When we finally charge and take it all.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

We march long and hard among the deads
Down this nocturnal road where evil treads,
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

4:13 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

9月30日

Don Quixote Grows Up

Those of you, who have been reading my blog regularly, may have noticed that I've stopped blogging for a bit. The reason is that I've been wrestling with where my life is heading.

Shortly after I graduated from college, I decided that I wanted to make a difference in this world. so, I moved to Baltimore, into the city, to be involved with programs for helping the economically disadvantaged.

In the passing years, I've been held up at gun point. And I've been ripped-off by people that I'm trying to help.

If I had made some kind of impact in my neighborhood, I may be willing to say that it's all worth it. However, day in and day out, nothing seems to change.

Not only have I not made an impact in my neighborhood, I'm beginning to see it impact me. I'm less patient with those I'm helping and more distrustful of anything they say.

There's been days in which I started to think that they deserved to be where they are.

So, I held up the mirror and wrote the following.

I mourn the passing of my youth
As it gasps for the last breath
Of its quixotic dream.

No single self-evident truth
Survived this untimely death,
Without a trace downstream.

The promises of tomorrow
No longer have their allure
No longer fuel my hope.

Broken lives, broken hearts, and sorrow
A field of dreams with manure
Made me this misanthrope.

1:02 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

7月7日

Heroes in the War of Life

My friend, Shannon, despite an incredibly tough year, came through strong. Now, she's being stalked by some strange guy; and, yesterday, her dog got really sick.

I wanted to write something encouraging and fun for her, so I write the following:

Heroes in the War of Life

Life is a war
   through which heroes are made
against cheating spouse dragons
   in the relationship charade.

Get pass the stalker freak
   and the doggie poop grenade.
Then, we, heroes, will dance
   at the victory parade.

14:57 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

7月4日

The Light from Behind My Grandma's Door

My grandma was the godliest person I know. Every day, she would get up super early in the morning (while it's still dark) to pray and worship the Lord to begin the day. Every evening, she would stay up way late to do it again to end the day. I'm convinced that her time with the Lord were two-way conversations. In fact, I'm sure it was her prayers that caused God to hold an umbrella of protection over our family.

I remember when I was really little, I was afraid of the dark. My mom would keep the light on until I had fallen asleep. However, there would be times when I would wake up during the night. Luckily, my grandma's light would be on as she prays for the family and I would fall asleep in the comfort of her light.

God, I miss her since she'd passed away.

So, here's one for you, grandma:

The Light from Behind My Grandma's Door

The Light spills into the night,
   From behind my grandma's door.
Its glow scatters the shadows
   Upon the living room floor.

Her prayers climb up Jacob's stairs,
   Up beyond the evening sky,
To where the Light shines,
   through the night.
Her songs take me to where I belong,
   In His sight.

Keep the Light burning in my heart.
   Keep her life's yearning in my heart.

21:09 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

7月1日

Running Wild

The last time I saw Lori and her little daughter Grace, I took them down to Baltimore's inner harbor. Grace had a ball. Everything down there fascinated her and she ran after everything that caught her sight. I started to write this piece about Grace, but as usually it turned into a retrospective of my own life.

Running Wild

Hey, child, running towards tomorrow,
   Looking back, are you being followed?
   Mamma tend to worry about that boy.

Hey, child, somebody's calling you.
   Running on, who are you listening to?
   Hope you don't loose yourself on the way.

Walking up right on your own,
   Within the year you were born,
   Strong willed child, running Wild.

Hey, child, looking for who you are,
   Working hard, will you be a shining star?
   Gonna have to catch your breath some day.

Hey, child, Jesus is calling you.
   Turning back, who will you listen to?
   Will you find your way back home?

Strong willed child, running wild.

2:28 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry

A Chest of Hope and A Chest of Burden

As a single person, I'm never comfortable about giving marriage advice to friends. But sometimes, it's hard keep silent as I watch a relationship blows apart. So I wrote the following for a very special couple.

A Chest of Hope and A Chest of Burden

A chest of hope and a chest of burden
   Are the same chest then and now.
The same package with the same contents,
   Through the years, has changed somehow.

A gift from God to a parcel from hell,
   How quickly their views have turned.
They wanted true love and intimacy,
   But freedom their hearts now yearn.

When and how did the load become heavy?
   Were more added in the night?
Who was responsible? Was it he or was it she?
   Now, begins the final fight.

He lifts his end of the load higher,
   Shifting the weight towards her.
She lifts her end of the load higher,
   Beyond the point they once were.

How will the story end, I don't know.
   Where do relationships land?
Will they return the load to where it belongs,
   In the Father's secure hand?

A chest of hope and a chest of burden
   Are the same chest then and now.
The difference is who supports the weight.
   The question is who not how.

The same package with the same contents,
   Through the years, has changed somehow.

2:27 | 添加评论 | 固定链接 | 写入日志 | Writing and Poetry