Can I write if no one is looking? No one is listening?
To be free, for me, is such an unordered mess
There is no rhyme
No reason
No ordered poetry
Just questions
I have lived in a box for so long
Predictable lines with ordered walls have ruled the song
In my heart
But you are bigger than the box
The light of Your Glory emanates from within
The heat of your passion burns the walls
And I hear the call
I hate the walls
Words of yesterday are written on every space
Memories of angry days and humiliation
Box me in
But there is grace
The light of Your love penetrates
The heat of Your passion emanates
The walls are consumed
By the fire of you
And I am Free
But I am also exposed.
What if the chaos that has been so neatly bound in that box escapes?
What damage will I do?
Am I, the exposed me, capable of living in society?
Should there be order in me? You are a God of order
Should I be messy? Is Your order messy to us?
The chaos of atomic motion creates a very ordered universe. The volatility of the stars is necessary for the order the cosmos.
I am volatile.
I am in chaos.
The box protects the world from me
But I hate the box
Why should I have to live in there?
I stand at the door of the box
Which way do I go?
Inside the box, I can just exist.
I don’t have to worry that the volatility in me will destroy those around me
They are sheltered from me by the box
All the volatility in me is captured and contained,
And I am consumed by it
I am doomed to self-destruction in the box
The closer I get to You, the more devastating the damage becomes
If I don’t come out of the box
I will die
So I stand at the doorway of the box
I was told “this is righteous”
“stay within the boundaries of the box, and walk with the Lord
And everything will be as it should be”
And I have believed it
But I will die in the box
But what if they are right?
What if I step outside the box and all that stirs in me is not compatible with life?
Will I leave destruction in my wake?
Would it not be better to stay in the box?
Is the box what they say it is?
Do we wrap the ugliness that you haven’t fixed yet in order to contain the damage it brings?
Am I worse than I was before?
Am I deceived?
Maybe I am worse than I was before and I really need the box more than ever
What if I am deceived? Only a fool gives full vent to his anger.
If I step out of the box, am I becoming a fool?
But what if I am not?
What if am not deceived?
If I don’t step out of the box, I will die
What is this that burns in me?
Is it the result of damage, a dry and angry soul?
Or is it You?
Is it Your passion that consumes me?
Are you the fire that is shut up in my bones?
But what does it mean to come out of the box?
If I am not deceived, what will the fire do?
Will it burn, consuming the chaff?
Will it drive away those who don’t want to burn?
Will I be left alone?
Is this the price of what burns in me?
But what does it mean to stay in the box?
I am tired
My heart struggles to continue to beat
I will die in this womb that I have hidden myself in.
It will become my grave
So what I am to do?
Can a baby refuse to be born? No, the Lord forces that day upon them
I fear my day has come
But yet…
I will rejoice
I have lived in a box for so long
Predictable lines with ordered walls have ruled the song
In my heart
But you are bigger than the box
The light of Your Glory emanates from within
The heat of your passion burns the walls
And I hear the call
I hate the walls
Words of yesterday are written on every space
Memories of angry days and humiliation
Box me in
But there is grace
The light of Your love penetrates
The heat of Your passion emanates
The walls are consumed
By the fire of you
And I am Free
Yesterday, I was walking around my yard and noticed a baby bird flit down onto my driveway. I walked over to it, and it tried to fly a short distance along the ground. I called the kids outside so they could see the tiny little bird, and both were very concerned. They looked frantically for a nest. None was found. The little bird just crouched helplessly in the grass, hoping we wouldn’t hurt it. It didn’t even chirp.