Guarantee; Question Marked series - Christian Lindbeck (John 16 & 17)

Ominous rumblings vibrate,
salted with bubbling joy.
Hard times are ahead,
I won't lie about that,
but good times are coming,
I guarantee,
in the end.

Do you believe now?
 
Your loyalty will tested -
you think you have faith now?
Your faith will be torn
and shredded 
by the hurricane to come.
You'll be separated
and will tremble
and cower,
knowing you should stand.

My words and deeds
have planted Truth in you
and it has taken root.
Though the storms to come
will cut this truth down,
yet, from broken stalks,
sprinkled with Spirit rain,
new and stronger
shoots will break forth.

It is beneficial
that I leave you now -
though it will shatter you -
because then the work begins,
when you know beyond doubt
that nothing,
nothing,
nothing,
comes from you -
it is all a gift from Us.

Give me your tiniest grain
and I will do the rest.
Your frailty is assumed,
understood
and foreseen.
It will not separate us,
though an abyss
may seem to yawn
between us.

Know this:
nothing [injustice, ugliness, apathy],
nothing [hypocrisy, laziness, messiness],
nothing [trauma, discouragement, affluenza]
can keep me
away from 
my beloved.

After All; Question Marked series - Christian Lindbeck (John 14:6-11)

Electrically charged ions
slither and snap
as befuddled minds grapple
with words that
seem senseless.

The "follow me" teacher
figures says, "stay here -
where I go,
you can't."

To astounded, gung-ho 
volunteers,
He says, "No, you won't,
and what's more,
you'll fail me."

"Look at me
and you'd seen Him.
Don't you know me?
After all you've seen
and heard,
how could Kingdom,
earthly-law-defying-power
come from my hands alone?
Do you not trust me?"

Theory becomes personal
as they
and we
ponder.

How long have I known Him
and yet
I don't trust the intimacy
of true knowing?
Why does the risk 
loom gigantic -
an insurmountable barrier
that paralyzes my feet?

Even though I straggle behind,
choosing shadows
and mere echoes of His voice,
still He turns
with kindness
and beckons
me closer.

Do I dare
(disturb the universe)?
And 
do I
dare?

The Place of Wellness; Question Marked series - Tim and Kristy Knipp (John 5:1-9)

Shadows flicker upon the waters,
tattered beggars linger near;
broken, blind and injured
are drawn here -
it's become a daily ritual.
They are known to one another
and familiar 
with the rough-hewn walls,
the water's gurgle,
the slant of sun.

Jesus asks us
are we ready to move on,
and we offer a panoply
of well-worn excuses
like pocketed stones
daily thumbed into 
a slick shine.

Get up,
He says.
Take action. 
Do something
to participate in the 
healing forces
you so desire.
It's not enough to wallow
in the shallows.
Take a deep breath
and.get.up.
daily.

Pick up your mat,
worn-edged and
comforting.
Bring it with you
to demonstrate
how far you've come.
Shake out the dust
and fold it 
over your trembling arm.
Never forget the "before" -
the day on day
and year on year
of desolated waiting.
Juxtapose it
with the wholeness of now,
the lightness of being,
the spring in your stride.

And if you still sit frozen,
invisible among the crowd,
ask yourself if you dare
to travel to the place
of wellness.
To get up may mean
to reach out,
to open up,
to try something new
and terrifying.
The place of wellness
is unfamiliar
and your equilibrium
may falter,
but don't forget 
that Jesus also
calls us (after 
rising and dusting
off our mat) to
follow (and lean
on)
Him. 

Question Marked Series - Carlo Furlan - John 1:38

FROM TREE TO TREE: Picture This; Isaiah series - Christian Lindbeck (...

FROM TREE TO TREE: Picture This; Isaiah series - Christian Lindbeck (...: See. Behold, a spotlight narrows - follow its beam. Look what it illumines: see how the story moves on, unscrolling through  mille...

Picture This; Isaiah series - Christian Lindbeck (Isa. 65:17-25; Matt. 5:14-16)

See.
Behold,
a spotlight narrows -
follow its beam.
Look what it illumines:
see how the story
moves on,
unscrolling through 
millennia
to reveal
the masterpiece.

Watch my re-
creation unfold,
the universe ignites
and blossoms into new
and glorious forms.
Your delight will 
overshadow and dwarf
your present pain -
it will melt away
like morning mist
evaporating under
a blissful sun.

So look forward
and celebrate the coming
joy now.
You can sing in the surety
of a place of belonging,
of being warm
and well-fed.
No sorrow will touch you
and laughter
will echo,
drowning out the grief
of a child and father
face down in the river.
My dear ones
will know the peace
of welcoming embraces
and purposeful hours;
when they speak
I will listen,
we will all walk together
again in the golden 
garden.

Can you not see it?
Can you taste it?

In the meantime -
this dusty in-between time -
work for and mirror
what will be.
Restoration is possible
in the here and now
and bits of Eden
will light the path
home.
Whet appetites
with your passion
for justice,
your compassion and 
selfless struggle for
the creation
of Shalom
in the now.

Picture it.

Eyes on Me: Isaiah series - Tim Knipp (Isa. 61:1-4; Luke 4:16-21)

Disillusioned.
Mismatched expectations
versus 
reality.
A gray miasma lingers,
infiltrating 
door sills,
obscuring hope.

A light flickers
in Nazareth -
I am here,
he says -
look where 
my coming
was predicted.
Focus your eyes
on me,
see how I sacrifice
my power -
I lay it down
and
die for you.
Watch how I live
to see how I treat
the other,
how I wrestle
the darkness
seeing hope spring
from spark
into flame
as I heal the bruised,
forgive digressions
and bind up
the damaged.
Lift up your eyes;
you too can do this
through me.
I am still active
in the world.
Look at me
and not the gray
miasma.
Look at me.