It is true
There is no profit in the flesh.
There is nothing in my power or my experience
That profits me anything.
I am sick of flesh.
Even the more I learn, it profits me nothing.
The strength of my reason
The skill of my thought and understanding
It is only flesh, and there is no profit in it.
I have come to the end of myself
And there is nothing
Nothing
Of the flesh
Which will commend me to God
When Lord, will you consume me
And will I find myself alive in you?
Sunday, March 15, 2015
One Clear Word 1992
It was a clear night
In any event, it was clear in the mind of God
And all that was cloudy of earth
Yielded that night.
When God led Israel from Egypt,
He processed in a cloud
By night, a pillar of fire
Too pure to be seen in light of day
So, all that was cloudy
Converged upon the presence of God
Processing ahead of Israel
And it was clear in the mind of God.
That word was born in a world turned upside down
For whoever heard what we have been told?
The cloudiness of God is a thousand times more clear
Than the clarity of earth.
A king, born in a feeding bin
The Son of God, a manservant.
This is foolishness.
The Creator of the worlds, destroyed by human hands
Madder still
His spilt blood, the antidote for my own dying?
This insanity of God
It is lovelier that the soberest mind of man.
Oh, you who are so ancient
(But not the Ancient of Days)
And so experienced
(But not sinless)
How God's idiocy foiled all your cunning
Your craft and greatest coup naught but cloudy
For, all that was cloudy yielded that night
Because it was clear in the mind of God.
Jesus, you who are so Beloved of God
How finely wrought is His wisdom in thee
How tightly God hast woven thee in me
How I praise and magnify you
For you have distilled in me
One clear word
Thank you,
Thank you,
Thank you Lord
Child Warrior 1992
Once, Satan spoke to Eve
And his deception brought her down.
Hath not God said? he asked
For myself, I sing praise
Hath not God brought me up?
Look, a son born of a virgin
The last
The root of David.
How God doth triumph oer thee, Satan
And such beauty, now the shed skin.
For myself, I sing praise to His Glory
Hath not His Glory come to rest?
Look, the lamb of God
Strolling upon the shore of Galilee
How doth Christ triumph oer thee, Satan,
Such brilliance, now shadowed.
I sing God's praise to His Glory
Hath not God come to dwell within?
Look, victory beyond the grave
For look, was he not thrice baptised?
Foolishness of God! Rejoice, you who love him
For Satan plotted the very blow that brought him down
Ordained before foundations were laid.
Look, if you can
This blood brought life to my flesh
This blood running from bruised wounds
Brought health to my body
And communion with God. I have tasted the covenant
God has died. But he will never die again.
I may sleep, but I will never die again
He said, pour out the blood, for the life is in the blood.
It is the life of the body
And his blood is stretched out over my own.
And his deception brought her down.
Hath not God said? he asked
For myself, I sing praise
Hath not God brought me up?
Look, a son born of a virgin
The last
The root of David.
How God doth triumph oer thee, Satan
And such beauty, now the shed skin.
For myself, I sing praise to His Glory
Hath not His Glory come to rest?
Look, the lamb of God
Strolling upon the shore of Galilee
How doth Christ triumph oer thee, Satan,
Such brilliance, now shadowed.
I sing God's praise to His Glory
Hath not God come to dwell within?
Look, victory beyond the grave
For look, was he not thrice baptised?
Foolishness of God! Rejoice, you who love him
For Satan plotted the very blow that brought him down
Ordained before foundations were laid.
Look, if you can
This blood brought life to my flesh
This blood running from bruised wounds
Brought health to my body
And communion with God. I have tasted the covenant
God has died. But he will never die again.
I may sleep, but I will never die again
He said, pour out the blood, for the life is in the blood.
It is the life of the body
And his blood is stretched out over my own.
The War Horse 1992
She is most highly prized of all I own
And I love her fiercely
She stands there at the ready, saddle in place
Tethered in the bridle
Many a sore has healed under her blanket
Even in foal she has carried me into the fray
And friend
There is treasure within her--wealth beyond measure
Many a fine foal has she born me
They have leaped at her side as I leaped upon her back
She is thin because of the march and the distance
Her head hangs because she is exhausted
But watch, I will speak and her eye opens
Her ear turns toward me and she picks up her head
How I love her! She is more lovely than the dawn!
Look, here an old scar upon her flank.
There, another on her breast.
She bears her many scars
Like the ornaments of a bride. Is she not lovely?
She is lovely to my eye.
And these are the firing marks upon her legs
That identify her with my tent and tribe
You, friend, you shelter in my tent
You enjoy my hospitality and protection
Take your ease and eat your fill
This mare and I will see to your safety
I offer my blood for your sanctuary.
Would someone trade me all the diamonds of Africa
I would never yield her over.
Your diamonds are naught but sand
But the mare, her heart belongs to me
When the desert winds howl and the sands tear like razors
Even you, friend, will give place as we shelter her within
Let her lie down in peace in my tent
Let the children sleep among her legs
She is my lamb and my own staff protects her.
In due season, we will pasture well
And she will feed to the full.
I will undo her hobbles and she will graze where she will
Let her wander then, through the chamomile and tender herbs
I know when day is done she will find her way
Back to my tent.
Let her lie down in peace.
Let the children sleep among her legs
She is my lamb and my own staff protects her.
Friend, when she is tethered in the bridle, saddle in place,
She looks to strangers like a ragged puny thing
Her bones stick out and her head hangs
They consider her of no account
Little they understand of her power and her strength
Nothing they see of her heart and the will of her spirit
And glad I am, for if they saw
They would prepare twice over for the assault.
Friend, when she is pastured and feeding to the full
No stranger will ever lay eyes upon her
For her beauty fills out until my eyes run with tears
She shines as bright as the dawn
No stranger will see her,
For my jealousy kindles over her
And I guard her with a perfect hand.
Yet, there will come a day
When the enemy sees her in full beauty
Bright as the dawn
And meek as a lamb under my hand
The day of the finish
He will see his fault and rue
How did he consider her of little account?
The deep of her eye shall smite him with astonishment
And she will see the finish of war
Lo, the finish of war, for her account,
And never will she be ragged again.
And I love her fiercely
She stands there at the ready, saddle in place
Tethered in the bridle
Many a sore has healed under her blanket
Even in foal she has carried me into the fray
And friend
There is treasure within her--wealth beyond measure
Many a fine foal has she born me
They have leaped at her side as I leaped upon her back
She is thin because of the march and the distance
Her head hangs because she is exhausted
But watch, I will speak and her eye opens
Her ear turns toward me and she picks up her head
How I love her! She is more lovely than the dawn!
Look, here an old scar upon her flank.
There, another on her breast.
She bears her many scars
Like the ornaments of a bride. Is she not lovely?
She is lovely to my eye.
And these are the firing marks upon her legs
That identify her with my tent and tribe
You, friend, you shelter in my tent
You enjoy my hospitality and protection
Take your ease and eat your fill
This mare and I will see to your safety
I offer my blood for your sanctuary.
Would someone trade me all the diamonds of Africa
I would never yield her over.
Your diamonds are naught but sand
But the mare, her heart belongs to me
When the desert winds howl and the sands tear like razors
Even you, friend, will give place as we shelter her within
Let her lie down in peace in my tent
Let the children sleep among her legs
She is my lamb and my own staff protects her.
In due season, we will pasture well
And she will feed to the full.
I will undo her hobbles and she will graze where she will
Let her wander then, through the chamomile and tender herbs
I know when day is done she will find her way
Back to my tent.
Let her lie down in peace.
Let the children sleep among her legs
She is my lamb and my own staff protects her.
Friend, when she is tethered in the bridle, saddle in place,
She looks to strangers like a ragged puny thing
Her bones stick out and her head hangs
They consider her of no account
Little they understand of her power and her strength
Nothing they see of her heart and the will of her spirit
And glad I am, for if they saw
They would prepare twice over for the assault.
Friend, when she is pastured and feeding to the full
No stranger will ever lay eyes upon her
For her beauty fills out until my eyes run with tears
She shines as bright as the dawn
No stranger will see her,
For my jealousy kindles over her
And I guard her with a perfect hand.
Yet, there will come a day
When the enemy sees her in full beauty
Bright as the dawn
And meek as a lamb under my hand
The day of the finish
He will see his fault and rue
How did he consider her of little account?
The deep of her eye shall smite him with astonishment
And she will see the finish of war
Lo, the finish of war, for her account,
And never will she be ragged again.
Justice 1992
It is only mankind that is blind.
God reigns. He judges. His is the triumph and all creation
Rings with his praises.
It is only mankind that is blind.
They say
We have insurance
But they do not reckon
That it is built on a false witness.
They say
Life is built of chance and risk
And we will gamble on our own arms
We will pick and choose, since we are informed
Abandon the ones who will not compromise
Leave them, they're defenseless
It is only mankind that is blind
God, great and mighty fortress
My rock and my defense
He alone who sustains us all
I want to be found in His sight
Since he neither slumbers nor sleeps
I would rather be wise than smart
In his hand, than in the defenses of Man
Come, lie with us and we will cover you, they say,
And punish the truth.
But he comes to judge.
Punish me they may,
Only never let me depart out of the hand of God
God reigns. He judges. His is the triumph and all creation
Rings with his praises.
It is only mankind that is blind.
They say
We have insurance
But they do not reckon
That it is built on a false witness.
They say
Life is built of chance and risk
And we will gamble on our own arms
We will pick and choose, since we are informed
Abandon the ones who will not compromise
Leave them, they're defenseless
It is only mankind that is blind
God, great and mighty fortress
My rock and my defense
He alone who sustains us all
I want to be found in His sight
Since he neither slumbers nor sleeps
I would rather be wise than smart
In his hand, than in the defenses of Man
Come, lie with us and we will cover you, they say,
And punish the truth.
But he comes to judge.
Punish me they may,
Only never let me depart out of the hand of God
Winter 1992
It is winter, when all appears dead
We of warm blood must not stop moving for long
So...my river is frozen.
And, am I walking it and do not realize it? Will I slip and fall?
Or, are my runners sharp, and my horse, sure-footed?
Honestly, I am wary of the ice and hate slipping. I avoid it.
If the horse is sure, and the runners are smooth,
I will venture out on thick ice.
Were they not pledged after all?
You comfort me with this great beauty,
Winter's work and the art of your hand.
I hate her treacherous cold, but I trust your hand.
Even in dead Winter
Amid her impartially treacherous cold and ice
There is still the work, that always must go on
From before my birth, it was piled and after I'm laid down
Won't another have to pick it up?
There is one work that devours and another which bears a witness.
Yet, there is work which gives me room. It is peaceful here.
I can breathe. It is quiet. We are alone.
There is danger; always the danger of falling.
What more can I do? The horse is sure. The runners are smooth
And the ice is thick. It is a calculated risk. I will trust.
She is very beautiful, and she will succumb to the warming of Spring.
We glide on, and there is beauty to comfort me for the freezing cold
A white horse sure upon his feet
And while the rest is frozen
We keep moving through the cold toward home.
The land I call my own is just beyond
Just beyond my vision. Just beyond my horizon. See?
I cannot describe it. That is the best picture I can draw for you.
My wordless hymn, my silent song, the heart I cannot describe.
Everything else is just a pale reflection, a fitful mirage on the road.
Mute I hold up this heart to you
If it be wood or straw or stubble or gold or precious I cannot tell
But it beats, it aches, and you alone have the words!
Put the fire to it, my love, put the fire to it
Part me from the freezing cold and the treacherous ice
Even from the comfort of beauty, the pledge of horse and sled
Be Thou the answer to the prayer thyself
No more comfort my tears
But joy! Joy when you requite my heart!
It is private then, between thee and me
For you, my King, you alone have the words.
We of warm blood must not stop moving for long
So...my river is frozen.
And, am I walking it and do not realize it? Will I slip and fall?
Or, are my runners sharp, and my horse, sure-footed?
Honestly, I am wary of the ice and hate slipping. I avoid it.
If the horse is sure, and the runners are smooth,
I will venture out on thick ice.
Were they not pledged after all?
You comfort me with this great beauty,
Winter's work and the art of your hand.
I hate her treacherous cold, but I trust your hand.
Even in dead Winter
Amid her impartially treacherous cold and ice
There is still the work, that always must go on
From before my birth, it was piled and after I'm laid down
Won't another have to pick it up?
There is one work that devours and another which bears a witness.
Yet, there is work which gives me room. It is peaceful here.
I can breathe. It is quiet. We are alone.
There is danger; always the danger of falling.
What more can I do? The horse is sure. The runners are smooth
And the ice is thick. It is a calculated risk. I will trust.
She is very beautiful, and she will succumb to the warming of Spring.
We glide on, and there is beauty to comfort me for the freezing cold
A white horse sure upon his feet
And while the rest is frozen
We keep moving through the cold toward home.
The land I call my own is just beyond
Just beyond my vision. Just beyond my horizon. See?
I cannot describe it. That is the best picture I can draw for you.
My wordless hymn, my silent song, the heart I cannot describe.
Everything else is just a pale reflection, a fitful mirage on the road.
Mute I hold up this heart to you
If it be wood or straw or stubble or gold or precious I cannot tell
But it beats, it aches, and you alone have the words!
Put the fire to it, my love, put the fire to it
Part me from the freezing cold and the treacherous ice
Even from the comfort of beauty, the pledge of horse and sled
Be Thou the answer to the prayer thyself
No more comfort my tears
But joy! Joy when you requite my heart!
It is private then, between thee and me
For you, my King, you alone have the words.
Conformation 1992
My heart is broken
I am ground like grain, pressed out like grapes
My bones, wax
Did you not know you would be conformed to the image of Christ?
He is meek and low and humble of heart
The covenant is bread and wine
You will be conformed to Christ
Yield, and do not harden your heart
Yield
For I AM
Will you not be conformed to me?
I am ground like grain, pressed out like grapes
My bones, wax
Did you not know you would be conformed to the image of Christ?
He is meek and low and humble of heart
The covenant is bread and wine
You will be conformed to Christ
Yield, and do not harden your heart
Yield
For I AM
Will you not be conformed to me?
Into Egypt 1991
It is night and the tents are pegged into sand
We have taken leave of a couple with a babe in arms
I stand by the horse hobbled to the stake and stroke her mane.
They press on toward Egypt, and I stare
When they appeared, they joined us with relief
Little was said, and little asked
It is the custom to be discreet, but hospitality is generous
Those who care for me knew not who they were.
I stand by the horse haltered to the line.
It is the gift and the burden of mankind.
We are free, and we are unaware.
It is said of the horse that God made her of the wind
For she flies over the sands
Men say of her that Kings ride upon her back
Yes, this mare was made to carry a king
She laid down at the feet of his mother
But now they have disappeared into the sands of Egypt
And the Father of the wind erases their tracks
And we stare after
Little Child, I will look after you all my days.
The mare recognized your hand
It was the hand that scooped us out of the wind and it was plain to me
She has no such freedom as does mankind
For men may think as they like, and do as they please
It is their gift and their burden.
How is it with you, then, is this freedom your treasure? Or your beast?
Hidden safely, and revealed plainly, the Child is among us, apprehended or not.
We have taken leave of a couple with a babe in arms
I stand by the horse hobbled to the stake and stroke her mane.
They press on toward Egypt, and I stare
When they appeared, they joined us with relief
Little was said, and little asked
It is the custom to be discreet, but hospitality is generous
Those who care for me knew not who they were.
I stand by the horse haltered to the line.
It is the gift and the burden of mankind.
We are free, and we are unaware.
It is said of the horse that God made her of the wind
For she flies over the sands
Men say of her that Kings ride upon her back
Yes, this mare was made to carry a king
She laid down at the feet of his mother
But now they have disappeared into the sands of Egypt
And the Father of the wind erases their tracks
And we stare after
Little Child, I will look after you all my days.
The mare recognized your hand
It was the hand that scooped us out of the wind and it was plain to me
She has no such freedom as does mankind
For men may think as they like, and do as they please
It is their gift and their burden.
How is it with you, then, is this freedom your treasure? Or your beast?
Hidden safely, and revealed plainly, the Child is among us, apprehended or not.
The Battle Cry 1991
That Eve was deceived I have no doubt
I am a daughter of Eve, and I was so deceived.
It is said Satan was once beautiful;
And he beguiled Eve in the skin of a subtle creature
How he has beguiled me
In the subtle skin of that which seemed wise
Of that which seemed good and right and expedient
He offered me the seed of knowledge
And stole from me the seed of life.
Be ware, ye maidens soft and fair
So my sorrows and my conception are multiplied
Because when I conceived it was all agony for what I had betrayed
Who can comfort? How shall I replace my own flesh and bone?
It is to say that Eve is the mother of all living
Yes, she conceived my burning
I burn for the stolen seed
And I cannot rest or find peace until I crush the snakish head.
For you are no more beautiful to me!
You are ugly and I despise thee!
Wicked beyond saving, and I hate thee
Though you bruise my heel
And arm yourself to devour, I will crush your head
For God hath opened my ear to the voice of innocent blood
And I have wept past bearing, beyond understanding
Erase my name, for I will die too
With neither comfort nor hope for such as me
The seed of life was stolen from me
And all I have is bitter, bitter knowledge.
Better that I die with your broken teeth in my bloody heel.
Yes, it would be so, but God has appointed another seed
New life, and henceforth
God's seed remains within "You shall have another son," he said
And just as the dragon was preparing to swallow me
We are caught up
Stolen from the dragon's jaw
I am given eagle's wings!
Eagle's wings for me! Beak and talon for thee!
Be ware, old serpent, for now my resolve will never soften
It is backed with my cross
God has vindicated me, and art thou not confounded?
The seed of life, cradled safely in His arms, and I belong to Him
Not thee.
I am a daughter of Eve, and I was so deceived.
It is said Satan was once beautiful;
And he beguiled Eve in the skin of a subtle creature
How he has beguiled me
In the subtle skin of that which seemed wise
Of that which seemed good and right and expedient
He offered me the seed of knowledge
And stole from me the seed of life.
Be ware, ye maidens soft and fair
So my sorrows and my conception are multiplied
Because when I conceived it was all agony for what I had betrayed
Who can comfort? How shall I replace my own flesh and bone?
It is to say that Eve is the mother of all living
Yes, she conceived my burning
I burn for the stolen seed
And I cannot rest or find peace until I crush the snakish head.
For you are no more beautiful to me!
You are ugly and I despise thee!
Wicked beyond saving, and I hate thee
Though you bruise my heel
And arm yourself to devour, I will crush your head
For God hath opened my ear to the voice of innocent blood
And I have wept past bearing, beyond understanding
Erase my name, for I will die too
With neither comfort nor hope for such as me
The seed of life was stolen from me
And all I have is bitter, bitter knowledge.
Better that I die with your broken teeth in my bloody heel.
Yes, it would be so, but God has appointed another seed
New life, and henceforth
God's seed remains within "You shall have another son," he said
And just as the dragon was preparing to swallow me
We are caught up
Stolen from the dragon's jaw
I am given eagle's wings!
Eagle's wings for me! Beak and talon for thee!
Be ware, old serpent, for now my resolve will never soften
It is backed with my cross
God has vindicated me, and art thou not confounded?
The seed of life, cradled safely in His arms, and I belong to Him
Not thee.
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