My rusting chains
enslave me.

i am beaten
with the rigors
of life.

i am auctioned
on the block.

An ode to
gold and silver
is my dirge.

No one pays
the Price on
my head.

There is only
one end–
i am nothing,
existing
to be used
and tossed away.

The Son offers his shoulder.

i dig a
tomb in my
burdens.
Hope’s dark fuse
lies cold
and buried.

Why have i
turned from Him?

The Master is not my master-but he pays the Price!
His heart is pierced because he knows my sin–
He sealed my ransom with sanguine scarlet.

I lay my head in Shoulder’s hollow, spent from my struggle.

Jesus, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, my true Master,
paid my ransom and more, giving royal blood for a peasant’s life.
It is pure love that the king would die for me!
All of my stripes were borne by Him.

All to Him I owe.

About eight years ago, my wife took one of my favorite pictures of my kids.  I felt like the photo captured my children’s personalities perfectly. I have included the photograph here:

I was feeling nostalgic a few weeks ago and decided to try, with my wife’s help, to recreate the photograph.

This new photograph also captures my children’s personalities:  As they grow, they tend to break boundaries–in the same way that they escape the border of the picture.

As my kids grow I watch in amazement, but in my private moments I still tend to think of them as they were in the first photograph.  It is hard for me to admit that they are approaching that time when they will begin to do for themselves, to accomplish on their own (they have already begun this!) and eventually live their own lives.

As a father, I must remember that I have been given only a  fleeting moment to use the opportunity I’ve been given to make my impact on their lives, all the while redirecting them from my example to His.  I must remember to do my job and be ready to jump out of the way once it is done.

What an awesome thing God has done!

Alone, I dream of the sun.
I cannot feel its warmth
when you are not near.

My heart flutters–
your banner torn by the wind.
My storm rages in the darkness.

Only you can light my way,
calming the gale,
silencing the howling doubt.
The darkness flees,
pursued by your Brilliance.

Blind, I call your Name.
My feet have lost their way.
Cruel rocks run red.

My lips taste
the Blood of your devotion.
Emptiness burns within me.

You alone fill my soul,
healing the wounds,
taking my stripes.
You carry my burden,
lifting my brow.

Why have I left your side,
dimming my sight?
You are a resolute Rock, immobile.
Faithfulness eludes me.

Lead me into the light.

Warm my soul so I will know
a child’s comfort again.

Crush my fear so that
I will never stray.

Fill me with undying love.

I watched “My Name Is Khan” yesterday with my family. This unlikely movie has become my favorite. Produced in India, it is only partially in English and has extensive subtitles. Even with this working against it, the movie hit us hard emotionally.  The film is about a man whose innocence changes the people around him.

The closest story to this one that I know of is “Forrest Gump” (the film, NOT the book), but, for me, “My Name is Khan” had a larger impact–in the same way that a linebacker hits harder than a toddler.  The description on Amazon reads:

Two of Bollywood’s biggest superstars, Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol, deliver powerful performances in this epic romance that proves true love knows no boundaries. Rizwan (Khan), an Indian man with a unique way of looking at the world, moves to San Francisco and meets a vivacious single mother named Mandira (Kajol). They form a special bond and fall in love against all odds, but fate and tragedy conspire to tear them apart. That’s when Rizwan embarks on a remarkable journey across America to win back the love of his life.

Those of you who have followed my movie recommendations before can take comfort:  My wife, Monica, picked this one out, so it is guaranteed not to disappoint!

A few years ago, Patty Jones found me through the Edisto Island church website and began sending me messages of encouragement.  Patty offers prayers for our congregation and has been a great source of personal encouragement for me.  Somehow, Patty finds the strength to spread Christ’s love and hope despite many personal trials that she faces.

This summer, Patty was very sick.  Many people thought that she would not live much longer.  In the midst of her pain, she sent the following to her friends to offer encouragement.  I am happy to report that today Patty, my friend and sister, is still fighting to let her light shine.   With her permission, here is her message:

I woke this morning to the sounds of the birds singing and the rain softly falling on the roof.  All day long we hear different sounds and forget them quickly.  I love to listen to soothing music and the beautiful voices of my family.   Some noises are dreaded:  the crying of a child in pain, an emergency siren and the phone ringing late at night after a hard day.  When we lie down and wait for sleep to come noises take on a life of their own.  We often want to cover our heads and hide at each bump in the night.  Sometimes at the end of the day I tend to go over the mistakes and shortcomings in my life.  I can almost hear the beating of my heart.  But, out in distance, I hear a sound that took place over 2000 years ago.  I can hear it as if it were right outside my door.  It is the sound of metal striking metal.  A swish sounds in the air and again the pounding over and over.  It is a horrible sound that makes me tremble.  I want to shut it out and yet that sound freed me from my past and gives me a future.  It gives me peace from my heavenly father and you must hear it, too.  It is the sound of the hammer driving the nails into the hands and feet of my Lord.  With each stroke I hear my heavenly Father saying because of this, my child, you can have the gift of eternal life.

My dear friend Patty won her battle with the troubles of this life on Wednesday, February 16, 2011. I look forward to seeing her at the end of my race.

I gave you everything.
You were never too shy to accept gifts
and never found joy in giving.

I loved you, sharing myself with you.
You hid in the shadows of your heart,
carelessly throwing daggers of self doubt.

I built you up.
You loomed over me
pouring flaming rage upon my head.

I nursed you back to health.
You poisoned my heart with lies,
ensuring life would never taste sweet.

I cried vicarious tears for your torment.
Your mirth still rings in my ears
when my troubled memories fight to survive.

I would have died to see you smile.
You ate my fear and drank my screams,
my terror was your sustenance.

I bared my soul’s throat to you.
You wear my blood under your nails,
cherry polish for all to see.

This was written as a companion to “Light”.

I sit beneath your radiance,
oblivious to life
except where the shadows end.

You light my path,
the sun is dead by comparison.
My feet find purchase.

I remember the darkness,
life before you.
It is the mere vestige of a shadow.

I am warm.
My soul fills itself
with your refulgent song.

Our love, the unwithering tree
basks in your glow,
full of healing fruit that is ever ripe.

The moon dances with the sun
circling in orbit,
learning your lessons.

I am enthralled by your light,
examining, searching,
knowing it will quell every doubt.

You are my daydream,
lighting my life,
washing the shadows away.

This was written as a companion to “Darkness”.

My wife just got a call from her sister.  It seems that our niece, Tori, was given a cheap pair of Groucho Marx glasses. (You know: the ones with the fake nose and mustache attached.)  Tori started wearing the glasses and marching around the house.  Her mom asked her what she was doing and she said “being Uncle Scott…”

Sometimes we never get to see the impression people have of us, but when I do I always find it interesting.  I consider it a top honor to be in my niece’ thoughts.  It is a bonus that it is during her playtime and an even bigger bonus that her thoughts of me are humorous.   I just love making her smile…!

You stand before me,
cataclysmic survivor
callously unspent.

I can only watch in wonder,
your tears turning to diamonds
your cries to song.

You have become the creator
fashioning rhythmic sinew
from your own blood.

Your verse walks
touching all who see
with celestial vision.

You rise,
beating back the pain
struggle relenting to smile.

You speak,
honey drips like dew
words becoming my gossamer wings.

I bloom.

Dark future’s nightmare snares me again.
I lose myself in myself, unable to see the light.
Misery becomes the hunter.
I am the whining prey, feet in the trap.

Hope’s promise comes born on angels’ wings!
I lose myself in You, unable to feel the darkness.
Your prophesy hunts the hunter.
I am the washed sinner, hands rising free.

I was lost and am found!
Blind yet now seeing all!
Happiness rains from clouds!
Dread nightmare is no more!