Kid, you could be King

"Turn away from sin, and lift up the cross once again, I can only hope you'll see the need for change"

"Come, now is not only the time for you to not only hear but to move

your hearts become lukewarm
With one foot in fire,
you are bound to burned by the flames"

"Lord have mercy..."

Uncomfortable King, Suffering Servant, I have siphoned sin, I had a communion of death, shared between me and the victim. This is no place for the light of the world to be found. Why do I keep what holds me down? Why don't I unsheathe my sword and massacre my assailants?  Why don't I prove that the impossible has it's evident control? 

And again I speak forth

Why diverge into a subversive role? Why submit your soul?

CONTROL. CONTROL.

He grins and bears his teeth, as I watch for eyes of loved ones to turn away, he says to me

I'VE FOUND A BETTER WAY, I'VE FOUND A BETTER PLACE! LETS LEAVE THIS TOWN, YOU HAVE NO PLACE AMONG THOSE BURIED DEAD IN CONVICTION AND CONDEMNATION.

LET'S DRESS YOU UP IN REAL SLEEK IN FINER SILK. COME ON, YOU CAN BE KING. YOUR ABSOLUTION TO A OXYMORON ASTOUNDS ME, RID YOURSELF OF THIS UNJUST LOYALTY TO TYRANNY (OR IF YOU PREFER, ROYALTY).

and if that weren't enough he goes on to give me my alternative,

INSTEAD YOU COULD TAKE THAT CROSS YOU CARRY, AND HANG IT AS A MILESTONE AROUND YOUR HEAD. I'LL EVEN WALK YOU INTO THE WATER WHERE YOU CAN BE DIE THE DEATH THAT "THE JUST ONE" SPOKE OF. YOU SPEAK OF ANOINTING WHEN ALL I SEE IS YOUR BROTHERS ALREADY BURIED IN THEIR GRAVES. 

he asks me, WHO OWNS THE LAND KID? DO YOU SEE THE AUTHORITY THAT KEEPS EACH SLAVE IN HIS PLACE? WHAT DESTINIES DO THESE FOOLS HAVE WITH OR WITHOUT YOU? 

And I look momentarily at the work of my hands, and think to myself, my God, I am just building up an idol. Why speak when I am blind, why work when my hands just bind. So here I find myself, lukewarm.

Its as if, if I can find a way to frustrate grace, I seek out every justification to do so.

I spoke to the Desert Emissary last night before he dropped me at my house. We talked about how the pendulum swings, and where we leave our hearts. We talked about how we misunderstood time and how we didn't have the right souls to keep glossy eyes.

And we talked about where our victory lied.

When I write down everything Ester-Darker tells me, its apparent where the water runs. Where we can find life to drench our dry bones. Yes, the centrality of Christ is fustrated by falsehood, by that old flesh trying to rise and claim a right to conquer me.

I told the kind Emissary, in all his patience, that our old flesh had no such deed. And in fact, it was because we are eternal kids of the kingdom, that we find that our attempts at building a tower of babel are always undermined. Instead there is an agreement with us, that upon becoming sons we receive a father. And we are victorious because he sent his king to conquer death. And that is the truth in its finality. 

I have been hearing chains for most of my life, around my ankles, around my neck. And I've wondered where they led, and what they entailed. And I thought that this temple or sanctuary or tabernacle could be tall enough to break me free. Now that I've felt the claws of Ester again, I'm reminded by my Brother-King that this tabernacle purposes as a reminder that there is nothing I can do to achieve these spiritual things that my heart yearns for. But by the blood on my hands, by the lamb I slew, the answer has been recovered.

Oh, seven-horned lamb. How can I ever forget this debt of mine? How could you look out into eternity and stand sovereign in your peace knowing the debt would never be repaid.

Take the sacrifice. Not my will, but yours.

Be my sacrifice. Not my will, but yours.

It was your thought, that I could be one who pleases you. Not mine.

Not my will, but yours.

A wish to arise

When someone tells you they see great things in you, maybe for you it builds great courage.

But I'd like to say, that more than I'd like to say, falsehood has a place in my mind to drive that courage away. And fear instantly arises. Its scary how often that serpent can contort his words to look like a suffering servant.Whats worse, is that despite the tiresome work that that imaginative engineer put into building a discerning mind, with full volition I cast empathy aside. Its not like a spell was cast over me. There is no warlock in the closet, no witch hiding beneath the bed. Merely an idea that I could find better rest in a place where men die a lonely death. For all the fruit, that purity, empathy and humility might provide, I'd rather hide from the truth that the heart of God desires that the suffering of man has an end, that doesn't merely lie in our obliteration. 

I'd rather hide in obliteration. 

But I can't. I'm a slave to righteousness, and I will have to see this leprosy leave. Those gluttonous idols are one by one exiting my house, and I'm feeding them bits of soul as they see their way out. And I reason with myself, why would I exalt tyranny over majesty. Why would I trade your love instead of holding onto the pillars of trust you built within my soul.

I always fear I've fallen in love with something thats not you. Loving my righteousness rather than the righteous king. Loving the way I sing rather than a savior befitting of melody.

Savior, bring the defiled to repentance in my house, cause I feel like a pharisee.

I don't think I'm befitting a temple so holy. Don't think I deserve these eyes extended. I'd rather sit a home alone, choking on carcinogens waiting for the cold to pass so that I might breathe my last breath and die. But its not me who reigns here. You cast me off the throne, and you breathed life into the bones. And I gotta settle down in this new life. I've found my bearings, whats a wish to arise?

Tell me Maria, whats a wish to arise?

By the harbor

I still spend a lot of my time thinking about a Maria or a Riku. Some water-spirit sent to sing my fiery tunes. Sent to stand and prophecy amongst the silent. I turn on an acoustic radio, taking me back to childhood lullabies. Yuh know, the things we thought of right before we went to sleep. It wasn't like the complete conviction I rest my hope upon now, rather a naive wonder about what I could rest upon in the future, what sort of paradise I could create for myself. Maybe one woman could bless my life. But as the winter winds blow steady, and I hear the call of the kings men, I reflect on when I should of listened, and what life would have been if I did.

In the quiet he is with me. With thoughts and plans I cannot understand he is constantly with me. Its a mystery to me, where he resides. But his groans rest upon my lips, and his sight upon my eyes. And I say and see things I shouldn't, natures beyond natures.

And it makes me wonder, where is my real home? Is it with Maria, by the harbor, singing sad songs to each other about the mistakes we made making the mistakes we made, on attempts to make a way to find each other. I spend time thinking about whether she will cry, when I tell her about the things I lost and the belongings misplaced in that old house of mine. I think about telling our sons about our sins, and watching them get caught in the traps we ourselves swore we would dismantle in our youth.

All the same. I think the joy we could find once we stop the cycle of fatherless children creating fatherless children would be grand. At least in my line.The way that Eve was helper for Adams soul. The way Christ might find delight in the church. Still, right now, that's something I don't know.

Maria, I don't want to tell you your chances are slim; and I don't want to make a choice out of heartbreak either to be with you or without you. I understand the wrath of the flood. I understand destroying everything for the sake of holiness. And I understand cutting off my connection the way that slumbering Seabear does.

But I'm not apathetic am I? No, I'm just a heartbroken man. Who believes in grace.

Its a conundrum. Natures beyond natures, right? He always with me Maria, even in my transgressions against you. I have evidence. I have the proof. Perhaps in this season of life, that's all I'll need to know. He's all I need is I'll need to know. Maybe down the line I'll be singing that blues with you. Although sweetie, right now it seems if he asked me to, I couldn't refuse him. I did once. I can't again.

My heart can't bear breaking his heart again.

I believe in Grace, and reconciliation. Even for a guy like me. Hell, I believe in it for the ones seem worse than me. Not that they are. I know what I could be.

Don't know his plans. But if he asks me to those plans speak in a foreign language, I will. I will tell a man complete certainty that the abundance of love behinds those words is greater than he understands.

And I believe in words. Even if I don't understand them.
And I believe in God. Even if I don't understand him.

I don't know where we stand. And I don't know if I'm singing the wrong songs. Or if I should look for you. Or if I'm wasting my time with my head in the clouds. Dreaming a dreamers dream. I don't want that, I want the reality of realities. Which is funny, cause I think its a marriage. I'm in love with a king who's in love with me.
Unity is sweet. But I don't know darling. I don't know. I can't tell what the future holds for me. Wish I could.