Very Transparent Yearning


God, am I not hungry enough
Or what
Thought I was
Like an emptied cup
Forced dry to be most deeply refreshed
I must
Now stand and confess
I have wandered willingly
I tried to gain but just spilled all these
Precious gifts
I hope for Your “peace be still” but these
Shifts, these
Storms come daily
Even while I’m praying
And my sins are not far cast away
So I cry out for new life
A bridge from here to there
A lasting calm, not merely a respite
But a reprieve
I want the ghosts to leave
Down here I grieve
Lord don’t just tell me I’m received and accepted
Show me I’m not neglected
Pull me in close, Lord
Pull me to your chest, yes
To your heart
Throw me over your shoulder
Give me a new start
It’s getting colder
Be my warmth
I’m growing older
Tell me about yourself until I depart
I am so tired of defeating myself
Walking as a fool in a barren land
Chasing mirages until I can not stand
Rejecting your plan
Then waking to do it all again
I cry out for mercy
If you terry because I’m not thirsty
Make me thirsty
Because the thirsty you will fill
I am not well and I must ask
Will you heal or kill
Will you enrich or waste
Have you grown tired of me
Will I ever get to taste
Your unhindered presence
I beg of you, replace my darkness
With Your essence


Who am I to write of Transcendence?

I am not well today. What the psychiatric realm refers to as Bipolarity has me in a deep down curve. I am wondering with a tint of despair and anger about great and deep questions. I am wondering what the hell Jesus was actually thinking when he claimed that giving up selfish tendencies would bring abundant life and peace. I am wondering what my mother’s hopes really are, hopes which seem to be tied directly to the welfare of her only son. (Her sometimes addicted, bipolar son). I am wondering what it might be that has caused my wife to stay all this time when I have been the channel by which she tasted so many sad realities. I am wondering how my Dad sees me, like, what does he think of me? Most of all, I’m wondering when the falling phase of my life will transition into the caught phase, the breeze-blown dancing phase, the phase of love, peace and tranquility.

See, I know I have had many wicked schemes in my mind. I know I have walked down too many dark alleys. I have tasted too much of Babylon’s spirits, touched to many Babylonian women and been to close to the fire of greed and envy, for too long.

I am currently trying to commit myself to different paths like regular meetings with a Psychiatrist, some AA meetings and some very frank and vulnerable talks with my Pastor, but I’m feeling no sense of hope and I’m doubting any relief will come, because I have already been through all these things and much more before.

Know this, I am a good person. Like, I have given an expensive leather jacket to a homeless guy because I was pleased that he wanted warmth and not liquor. I have gone on “mission trips” and even wept with joy and right regret when I saw that very poor people in other nations often have more tranquility and goodness in them than the wealthy Americans I have always known.

I want to live a good life and be more smoothly and consistently good, but I feel the forces of family, faith, forgiveness, trust and righteousness whispering all too intricately with doubt, vanity, disgusting selfishness and pride. These forces, twisting tightly, lay heavily on my soul with the noise and force of a soul tornado.

I know I’m not alone.