Jesus

I’m Sorry You Had to Go My Friend

Three days ago
you killed yourself
and now as I sit here
It occurs to me,
well,
it occurs to me that Jesus sweated blood.
It occurs to me that He asked if there was another way.
There wasn’t.

So if I try and drown my agony out
with some sort of sin or foolishness
Well,
it just won’t work.

I cannot escape the agony.

No one escapes the agaony.

Jesus did not escape the agony.

So as I sit here not sleeping
Feeling my pain
I guess it just has to hurt right now
and maybe it has to hurt often
but I guess right now anyways
I just have to feel
and that feeling is pain.

It goes beyond my understanding
and I have tried to run from it
but that (so it would seem)
is just not the way.

There is peace
and even joy
but so this life brings other things
and suffering was promised to
every son of man.

And to the children
so elect
by the wisdom of our God
was also promised suffering.

And so in agony I sit
And pray you found your way back home
the days just got a little longer
now that you are gone.

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Daughter of Another god

Words can touch
Where hands can’t go
Do you ever dream of Jesus?

A light falls swift
and warms a heart
but do you think He’s dead?

Two minds can be
resting on
the very same page as one another.

Yet without God
to bind two souls
What is there to love but skydiving with no chute?

Some things feel great
that tear the soul
and only later do we feel the crash.

I want to connect
Just as you
But I know that love requires something.

I am not
without my God
and this is who I am.

Funny quips and jokes aside
There must needs be a like mind in this
if love were ever to blossom.

And words with power leave their mark
Let us be so honest now
With ourselves about ourselves.

On Returning

I’ve always said
That I hoped for this one thing
A simple thing really
People ask
and I tell them
What I hope for in life
I just don’t want
to be doing blow
off a hooker’s belly
when Jesus returns.

People laugh
they look uncomfortable
they think I’m joking
and they don’t really believe me,
not really.

I don’t know why
I think sometimes they think
they can never “fall that far”
and that I never would
either.

I don’t know why they think that
I’m not sure what bible they read
(these are the christians that don’t believe me after all)
maybe they don’t read the bible.

I don’t think those are the worst sins
I imagine most hookers to hate their jobs
and to have lead a life that would make anyone cry–
anyone with a heart

I’m also not doing those things now
I’m not struggling to stop
I”m not high
I”m not at a whorehouse

but I have met me
and I know better than to say I am above things
I know better than to think that because I have not been somewhere in the past that I will never go there in the future

but for the grace of God…

Maybe they just don’t think about His return
Maybe they don’t think about what is written
Maybe they don’t want that promised blessing.

Lord forgive me
Lord keep me from myself
Lord lift me up
Lord preserve me
Lord have mercy on the prostitute
Lord have mercy on the drug addict
Lord have mercy on us who sin
Lord have mercy.

On Heaven

They tell me that the streets are gold
But I don’t care I don’t care
I just want to see Jesus there.

They tell me that the gates have pearls
But I don’t care I just don’t care
I just want to see Jesus there.

They tell me that the city gleams
But I don’t care I don’t care
I just want to see my Jesus there.

They tell me that your friends are there
But I don’t know and I don’t care
I just want to see my Jesus there.

They tell me that the angels sing
But I don’t care I just don’t care
I want to see my Jesus there.

They tell me that the Father speaks
And I am filled with shaking fear
Please my God let me see this thing:

Please let me see my Jesus here.