He Wept

God cried.  Incarnate.  In the flesh, he looked into the eyes of the two beloved sisters and he wept.  Over his friend, a man just like me.  He looked and he felt compassion, love for those he had grown so close to.

And he cried for me.

I can’t believe in an All-powerful God without believing in his love that surrounds and embraces me.  Otherwise what is this all for?  I can’t see God without seeing his love.  The whole book (the B.I.B.L.E.) to me has one message.  Love.  Love God.  Love others.  Love.

And he cared enough to share himself with a band of misfits who really remind me of the rooms that I’m now such a part of.  

But this man, this ‘king’ has always flummoxed me.  I mean I grew up with the back-wall picture of a longhaired white dude with blue eyes and near-perfect complexion.  Really?  It sure didn’t help my image. In fact, for a quite imperfect teen in the 80’s it was a slap in my face.  “Made in his image”?  Hell, no!  And that fed my reluctance to embrace that this God, this man could truly love me regardless of how many times we sang the song.

So God, learning to love you has always had a duality to me.  I love you, but I can’t see how you could pour your love down on me.  I mean why?  And the cycle of self-hate, beating myself up, loving but hating my father in heaven was born.  And I went toe to toe with him for so many rounds (think Rocky Balboa in each and every installment of that saga).  I have fought to hate you and fought to love you.  I’ve given myself and taken myself away from you so many times.  

But here’s the truth.  You always show up.  You’re always there.  Always just sitting there at the well (Samaritan woman), resting in the front of the boat or shedding a holy tear at your dear friends passing.  I may not want you there or even see you – blind in my own shame, guilt, ego.  Yet, you remain.  Every.  Single.  Day.

And yes, you care enough to shed a tear.  You even went to the garden, just before your death and poured out your heart to your own father.  For me.

Jesus.

Sometimes I hear your voice in a gentle whisper, other times in the pouring rain

~ Peace

Chad

God’s Rain

Won’t you let my spirit go

The rain comes down and I’m exposed

But you have never ran from me

Even when I’ve picked up my heart to leave

I don’t dare to understand

How the rain washes over all I am, (this man)

I’ve struggled to find my voice

Like I haven’t had any choice

Silent, no, that’s not me

I’m loud, I’m boisterous, for all to see

But in my heart there’s a little child

Who runs and hides from the whole world

But you don’t let me get too far away

You’ve always been there, every single day.

Even amidst the rain.

01/27/21
clc