Monday, March 31, 2008

wound moment

insane lust
forges a ravaged path of independence
causing a wound
in the garden

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Sunday, March 16, 2008

garden moment

I am silent in the darkness
Your darkness
there can be no words
only worship

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Wimber moment

Years ago in New York City, I got into a taxi cab with an Iranian taxi driver, who could hardly speak English. I tried to explain to him where I wanted to go, and as he was pulling his car out of the parking place, he almost got hit by a van that on its side had a sign reading The Pentecostal Church. He got real upset and said, "That guy’s drunk." I said, "No, he’s a Pentecostal. Drunk in the spirit, maybe, but not with wine." He asked, "Do you know about church?" I said, "Well, I know a little bit about it; what do you know?" It was a long trip from one end of Manhattan to the other, and all the way down he told me one horror story after another that he’d heard about the church. He knew about the pastor that ran off with the choir master's wife, the couple that had burned the church down and collected the insurance—every horrible thing you could imagine. We finally get to where we were going, I paid him, and as we’re standing there on the landing I gave him an extra-large tip. He got a suspicious look in his eyes—he’d been around, you know. I said, "Answer me this one question." Now keep in mind, I’m planning on witnessing to him. "If there was a God and he had a church, what would it be like?" He sat there for awhile making up his mind to play or not. Finally he sighed and said, "Well, if there was a God and he had a church—they would care for the poor, heal the sick, and they wouldn’t charge you money to teach you the Book." I turned around and it was like an explosion in my chest. "Oh, God." I just cried, I couldn’t help it. I thought, "Oh Lord, they know. The world knows what it’s supposed to be like. The only ones that don’t know are the Church."
John Wimber

Friday, March 07, 2008

clay moment

I love clay
I love the feel of it
the texture
the colors
its squishability

I love how it oozes personality
how it becomes one with my hands
an extension of my thoughts

sometimes resisting
but never complaining
when I push
or prod

never just a lump
there is always something hidden inside
it simply sometimes takes time
to ponder
to listen
to feel
for the heart
just waiting to be exposed

to be workable
clay must be damp

like us
the clay of us can be dry
and tired

it is our tears
often arriving unbidden
that enables a tender molding

under the hand of the potter

so that
in the end

with fragments of us
lodged under his nails
we forever bear his fingerprints

Thursday, March 06, 2008

compromising moment

How much of pastoral ministry
is intentionally devoted to admonition and teaching
to produce spiritually mature people?
pastors are not seen as spiritual directors
or teachers
whose role is to pastorally admonish and mould character,
but as employees of the church
to work as program-managers
and people-carers.
The spirit of compromise reduces the ministry
to a politically correct,
peacekeeping corps
David Orton