We put in the boot, without asking “Why?”
What about times when our ‘help’ is the wedge
That drives them apart, tips them over the edge.
No recovery or new starts, just division and pain,
Because we never ask “Why?” it’s the same story again!
When pointing the finger we make clear our intent
To bring them in-line, as our anger we vent.
You’d think we were God! As we keep marching along,
Without asking “Why?” just in case we were wrong.
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Wherever there’s fire there’s a spark at the heart.
It takes two to tango; it takes two to part.
But be careful my friends, in case your an ally,
To condemning the guilty, without asking “Why?”
Bigger Picture
Why, when our attention is focussed
On one small area of another’s wrong,
Does our vision become blinkered?
Staring into a tunnel;
Oblivious of what is happening around us;
Shielded from the full impact of our blindness.
How often do we convince ourselves
That we are right and justified
In words and actions that hurt,
In attitudes which wound?
Carrying a cross with our victim nailed to it;
Holding them high for all to see.
Why must we shine a spotlight?
Its bright, narrow beam piercing the darkness
Of another’s sin and shame.
Energy channelled into a pinprick;
Heating, burning, searing, melting
The delicate soul beneath its ray.
Why don’t we switch on a floodlight?
Illuminating the whole area,
Making visible the events and consequences
Of our actions and words.
Bringing out of the shadows, pain and hurt;
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Otherwise invisible to our preconceived conclusions.
How easy it is to miss the truth
In our quest for answers.
How easy to see the speck in another’s eye,
But miss the log in our own!
God teach us to be real, working in your light;
That we may bring light and healing to others.
The impact of other people’s (often presumptuous) judgments can be catastrophic on the recipient, who may be struggling simply to hold life together.
Fall From Grace
Words are so cheap and whispers hurt.
The knife cuts deep when friends desert.
An island in a stormy sea.
Embarrassed looks; “Please! Speak to me!”
It’s not what we do, but who we are;
Until we fall, then we bear the scar.
Our past erased, reputation shot.
Not who we are; more, what we’re not!
Then comes the help in Jesus’ Name!
“Why do you hurt when you’re to blame?”
It’s not true repentance until we’re found
Bleeding and crying, on the ground.
Love is patient; love is kind;
Love’s slow to anger, yes, even blind,
Until the zealots are on our case!
They mock our love; spit in our face.
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They twist our words and tear our heart;
They slice our soul, rip our spirit apart.
No oasis of calm, but a desert of fear.
We dare not believe that God is near.
“We’ll pray for you” the words seem stark.
A few cheap thoughts, an exclamation mark.
No helping hands, no words of hope.
No shoulder to cry on to help us cope.
The Gospel turned into a book of rules;
The King of kings relegated to the prince of fools.
His power reduced to the accuser’s whip;
His love replaced by one long guilt trip.
So where is our God in the eye of this storm,
Our anchor of hope, our oasis of calm?
He’s there all the time, though we don’t understand
That He’s holding us safe in the palm of his hand.
His words have not changed throughout the years.
His promises sure, despite our guilt and fears.
We’ll not let them rob us of all our self-worth.
Clinging on to His words we’ll fulfil our re-birth.
This poem is dedicated to a blind friend of mine who has lived independently for many years and experienced more than her fair share of being judged simply because of her disability. She recalls how many people have known her guide dog before they have known her, not to mention the number who think that because she is blind she needs a wheelchair! What many people don’t know, until they get to know her, is that she is a seriously gifted musician who makes you feel as if you are the most important person in the world when she talks to you. Judging others means that we lose-out too!
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I May Be Blind
Although my eyes don’t work too well;
I have two ears which surely do.
Plus a cerebrum and a conscience.
I may be blind, but I can speak to you.
I also hear those unspoken comments,
The pity and tension in your voice.
But I don’t bite, so please, relax!
I may be blind, but it’s not by choice.
I care for myself and my guide dog.
It’s not as amazing as you make out.
I wash the pots and do the housework,
I may be blind, but I’m not down and out.
And when I’m walking with my guide dog,
I have a name as well as she.
My name is Amy; I am her owner.
I may be blind, but she listens to me!
Her name is Isla and I love her.
She is my eyes; I call her ‘Lid’.
But I’m the one who gives the orders.
I may be blind, but I’m not stupid!
So don’t dismiss me because I’m different;
Beneath the surface we’re just the same.
I may view life from a different angle,
And I may be blind, but I have a name.
We’re flesh and blood, emotions, people!
We’re no different you and me!
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We’re both exactly as God has planned us.
I may be blind...so what!
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Forgiveness
‘Forgive us the wrongs we have done, as we forgive the wrongs that others have done to us’ (Matthew 6: 12)
Forgiveness is more often a process than a single occurrence at a point in time.
We take a major step towards forgiveness when we are honest about how we feel. However, we must never forget that forgiveness carries a cost.
Encounter With Forgiveness
A crashing thunderbolt from heaven!
You spoke and shared with me,
How I’d not failed, just because I felt pain
When my friends were hurting;
Or when they hurt me.
Accusers point the finger,
Bloodstained hands draw ever closer
To drain me of dignity and confidence,
And leave an empty shell, broken.
How I’d love to tear them limb from limb!
How sweet would be my revenge as they begged for mercy;
Crying out to be saved from my wrath;
Pleading to be set-free from their pain.
But these thoughts cloud and mask
The rules which govern my life.
The guiding principle of forgiveness.
Not just a quick “I’m sorry!” or “It doesn’t matter”
But a real encounter with pain
As I, the oppressed, make the conscious decision,
To draw close to my oppressors, and forgive.
Forgive those who show no mercy;
Forgive those whose words are bitter;
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Forgive those who spit in my face;
Forgive those who mock my words;
Forgive...
Forgive...
Forgive...
What a privilege and yet how hard
To carry the mark of a God who asks,
No, commands me to forgive those who hate;
To forgive those who plot against me.
What a privilege and yet, how hard,
Allowing myself to become so close to others,
Enjoying a relationship which, if all falls apart,
Is the platform from which I can offer forgiveness;
Even if others choose not to forgive me.
Lord please teach me to forgive.
Lord please teach me how to forgive,
So that many may experience a personal encounter,
With you.
How Much?
How much does it cost to forgive?
An ounce of pride;
Harsh words left unspoken;
The past put behind us;
Hope for the future.
How much does it cost to be unforgiving?
A lifetime...
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Two Worlds
Hi, how are you?
Fine thanks (I’m dying inside).
Have you spoken to Jane recently?
Yes, she’s very well (What do I care?).
I thought you’d fallen out.
We did, but we’re good friends again (I hate her!).
But didn’t she let you down big time?
Yes, but I’ve forgiven her (Over my dead body!).
Isn’t it amazing how God helps us like that?
Yes, as long as we rely on Him (Wish I could!).
You seem so calm and composed.
Well, I stay close to God (I take it out on her behind the scenes).
And you never seem angry.
No, I’m not (It’s eating me away inside, but I can’t show anyone).
So, how often do you see each other?
Not very (I never want to see her again!).
Does she ring you?
Look, can we change the subject please (Just given myself away!).
Do we ever avoid facing-up to our own problems and guilt by focusing on the shortcomings of others? In my experience, this is because I lack the ability to forgive myself for something I’ve said or done, either now or in the past.
Light And Dark
Do you know what news I heard in church yesterday?
My next door neighbor’s husband upped and ran away
With that girl who lives across the street at number twenty-two; The one who wears that little dress you can almost see straight through!
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I think it’s quite disgusting that this sort of thing takes place.
His wife is such a lovely woman who always makes the cakes
At ‘Gossip and Crumbs,’ at least that’s our name for women’s quiet hour!
We eat and talk and feed ourselves on others, sweet and sour.
I never really liked that man! He seemed too shy and quiet.
Yet when our summer parties came he was such a riot!
He never listened to my news when others had done wrong,
Or how I missed the chance, again, to sing at evensong.
And as for her, well, what can I say? She’s brazen through and through.
She may be young but even then, there’s better in the zoo!
With legs up to her arm pits and hair down below her waist; Black patent shoes, stiletto heels and make-up like wallpaper paste.
I dare not mention my background and how I was the same.
My reputation spread like fire; everyone knew my name.
I had to leave one winter’s night with a baby just conceived.
I did not know the father; my family was relieved.
But that’s all put behind me as I’m focusing on the ‘now’.
I freely pass my judgments on the ‘when’ and ‘where’ and ‘how’
By painting another’s background a darker shade of black
My own light shines much brighter and I avoid the flack!
But that’s all put behind me as I’m focusing on the ‘now’.
I freely pass my judgments on the ‘when’ and ‘where’ and ‘how’
By painting another’s background a darker shade of black
My own light shines much brighter and I avoid the flack!
Agape Or A Gape?
Love is patient and love is kind;
I want it now if you don’t mind.
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Don’t give me excuses, don’t make me mad;
Or you’re the one who’ll end up sad.
Love is not jealous, conceited or proud;
But I need to stand out from the crowd.
Beware! I’ll go to any length
To get what I want, with God as my strength!
Love is not irritable, selfish or rude;
When my friends look at me, I know they conclude
That God is at work, though I don’t know why;
I’m fooling us all by living this lie.
Love does not keep a record of wrongs;
I’ve written this down in so many songs.
But I won’t forget what you did to me,
For as long as you live; just you see!
Love hates evil but is happy with what’s true;
And so am I, unless it involves you.
Then truth’s not the issue and love’s not in sight.
More “you’re always wrong” and “I’m always right.”
Love never gives up; so why did I?
The first test came and I chose to fly.
Bitterness brewed, more twisted than twine.
Love and forgiveness? Revenge is mine!
How Long?
How long does it take to forgive and move on?
With God it is instant; with us it’s too long!
Our memory’s selective and we choose to forget,
Just what we want, unless we’ve not finished yet
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With extracting the last drop of life from our prey.
And then have the cheek to say, “Have a nice day!”
How long does it take to forgive and move on?
With God it is instant; with us it’s too long!
When we are the subject, the focus of need,
Our memories have barbs, digging deep, how we bleed.
And still we build barriers to stop moving on,
Like the hurt that we harbour against people long gone.
How long does it take to forgive and move on?
With God it is instant; with us it’s too long!
We’ve wept for our actions, confessed ‘til we’re dry.
Yet we’re still on the rack and get poked in the eye.
The days turn to weeks; turn to months; turn to years.
There seems no escape when you’re bound by your fears.
How long does it take to forgive and move on?
With God it is instant; with us it’s too long!
God’s given us a choice; a door; a way out
From prolonging our pain, our misery and doubt.
That choice is forgiveness; to build on mistakes
That we’ve all made, no matter how much effort it takes.
This isn’t an option; it’s what God commands.
How long will it take? Well, that’s in our hands!
Never Alone
I’m never on my own, no matter where I go.
With eyes at every corner I’m the star of the show.
“Don’t be long if you’re going out; make sure you’re on your own.”
I’m afraid to be seen in public just in case I’m known.
I wear a bright red nametag with ‘Guilty’ written large.
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The chain is hardened steel, tempered in the forge
Of accusation’s fire, clamped shut, by so-called friends,
With locks of unforgiveness, a penance that never ends.
In a crowded shop or deserted street, I feel I’m on TV.
And even in my own house, those eyes are following me.
At times I doubt my sanity and doubt those friends held dear.
Some call it paranoia; I say paralysing fear.
And so I am a prisoner for one mistake I made.
Blotted, tainted, not allowed to forget or let the memory fade.
Whilst those with squeaky clean, pure lives, who are thankful to be free, Point the finger silently, at a sordid sinner, called ‘me’!
So, where can I go from your presence and where can I hide from your gaze?
These should be words of comfort, but now they curse my days, Because there’s no escape from my taunters, there’s no escape from my past.
Or from ‘brothers and