T.Notes#62: Desperate people

 Desperate people

Lately i've been thinking

That I want to dance,

with the world unhibited

To hold hands and laugh,

This is me; these words are us

But i stutter breathless.

Your silence was bought by the Devil

Paid in kind,

by black stilettos,

and god forsaken sensuality.

I can say this here

I can park these truths here

To ponder them from a distance

Far away from my own near perfection.

But where does desperate devotion end,

And heresy begin instead?

To the creator of this mind,

State your intention,

Claim your prize!

69 times i have tried to drown,

this blog,

this good head,

this desperate dissatisfaction,

But everytime i read these words

My soul is stilled.

And i know,

That the further i wander from you,

the more i deeply understand

how my soul needs you.

Yet my heart will not keep still.

And my doubts rage still.

So my feet take flight again

If God will not come,

Then i will.

I will

Oh yes Jesus, I will!

Oh dear balm of Gilead,

Take all my money and devotion!

Can your God solve every problem

Or do you sometimes

Need a numbing shot of whiskey?

There was a girl who spent up her life

Singing desperate songs to God

Till her voice and hope wore thin.

Dear Jesus,

she whispered,

I have tried my best,

I can't sing no more.

I guess what i'm trying to say is,

I listened to an old Audrey Assad cd last night 

She said,

"After everything I've had.

After everything I've lost.

Lord, I know this much is true,

I'm still drawn to you.…"

(Audrey Assad, Drawn to you)

I have been chasing fireflies and gold speckled butterflies.🦋

Today i paused to smell my own rose garden.

These are my T.Notes,

I hope God still reads blogs.

T.Notes#61: Fireflies

 I have been chasing fireflies and gold speckled butterflies.🦋

The creative mind is blessed and cursed by wild fantasy.

Crazy people who spend their lives chasing wonder, trying to create illusive eternal satisfaction.

Today i paused to smell my imperfect rose garden.

Someday we must put away our wandering shoes

Fold up our wings and get into bed with contentment.

There once was a woman who bled for twelve years.

She spent all her days desperately trying to be healed

But none could satisfy her.

I am the one who has tasted the world.

But my wandering feet are wiser and tired now.

They say Jesus is perfect

Help me hang these shoes.

I heard an old childhood melody today

Jesus loves me, this i know.

Your fantasies will never satisfy you

That is why they are called fantasies.

Maybe this is why the gospel endears my heart.

Creativity also is, the power or process of creating especially unrealistic or improbable mental images and object of fantasy in response to unattended psychological need.