Next week I’m reading my poetry in public for the first time in fifteen years. My coffee house and campus glory days are way behind me. I’ve since been saved, sober, baptized, re-married, ordained as a prison minister, and become a grandparent. My daughters and their new husbands will come to the reading, and it may be my best all-time chance to witness and inspire them to Christian husbanding.<\/p>\n
Speaking in public, especially reading, is usually listed at the top of our greatest fears in pop psychology quizzes. I don’t share that particular phobia. I’d read phone books out loud in a subway if it gave me an audience. My issue is by declaring Christ as my Model, Mentor, and Muse, even poetically, I’ll be on the spot to live up to the measure of servant with a smile and the manhood I hope to articulate.<\/p>\n
When it’s just me and a pen following the prompting of the Holy Spirit to improve on the blank page, being a poet is wonderful. But when it’s time to call us into a community of receptive perspective, the responsibility moves way past being clever or gifted into being clean and clear. “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). That’s challenging in it’s own right, but under a spotlight with a microphone, it’s what makes the Word sharper than any double edged sword.<\/p>\n
We count upon our fingers
\nthe ways we’re loved.
\nWe wait for the hands on the clock
\nto tap us on our shoulder,
\ntap us on the shoulder,
\nwhat will it amount to
\nthe things we bring from this world?<\/p>\n
The hairs upon our head
\nare not crowns,
\nbetter we should count the times
\nwe slid down
\nto make room at our breakfast table,
\nroom at our breakfast table
\nfor Jesus.<\/p>\n
The worries in our arms
\nhave no wings,
\nthat’s why when we drop them
\nangels sing,
\nand what we bring to glory,
\nwhat we bring to glory
\nwhat we bring to glory is our praise.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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