A poem in honor of Good Friday. 33 words, one for each year of Jesus’ life.
Today’s poem: Deep Calls to Deep
In tribute to Jill Phillips, Andy Gullahorn, and most especially to Andrew Peterson, whose songs call to God’s Spirit in people and the world in a way that I do not yet have words powerful enough to adequately extol. This poem has been brewing in my heart for a while, but after attending The Local Show the other day, and getting spiked through several times by the truth in their music, I just wanted to do something to say thank you.
So, though words are not enough, thank you.
Yes, it’s true. I don’t deserve it,
Not a good thing that exists.
But, somehow, my God who loves me,
In His kindness still persists.
Still He presses forth, so faithful,
Rotten though my heart may be,
Loving me beyond my failures,
Giving such good gifts to me.
Have I earned my life and wellness?
Or deserve such time and care
From the people who surround me,
And the God who put them there?
Though He owes me nothing, truly,
I have learned His gifts come free,
For the goodness of the Savior
Has nothing to do with me.
– s. Clark
In times that my heart is oppressed
And peace is outpaced by my sins,
What comfort in my battles lost
To know, despite me, God still wins.
– s. Clark
I forget, I am innately broken.
We are fissured, fractured from the start.
Loving us in depth that can’t be spoken,
You reached out to heal our broken hearts.
But the world around is rent as ever,
And will catch us on its jagged ends,
Am I such a fool that I should never
Reach to find that healing touch again?
Maybe we should not fear to be fractured,
Each day seeking shelter from the harm.
Maybe that’s what keeps our hearts enraptured,
Daily falling on Your steady arms.
Why is it I go so long unaided,
Breaking down, clutching my precious pride?
Help my fickle spirit be persuaded,
Visits won’t suffice, I must abide.
– s. Clark
I know that I am so late in posting this, I got caught up in the holidays! I hope you can all forgive me, and that you are having amazing holidays of your own. Love you, my dears, thank you for reading!
This poem “Christmas” is a VERY non-traditional Christmas poem, meant to speak to the reason for the season. I hope you still enjoy!
The air tastes sharply of iron
As the dust is tainted red
Frantic shouts across the valley
Rise in notes of mounting dread.
For though we may fight with fervor,
We have met a fearsome foe
Creatures, jagged, black, and snarling,
Tearing through us row by row.
Not a man has stood before them,
They have slain both swift and strong.
In the hundreds we have fallen
To the fury of their song.
For the song was one of darkness,
Draining all our will to stand,
And it soaked into the soil
Like a poison in the land.
Now we pause, bloody and broken,
Some have quit their post and flown,
And the brave are few in number,
While their ranks have only grown.
Faces turn to watch the castle,
Voices cry out for the King.
But with all the length between us,
Who could hear our suffering?
All our swords have fallen heavy,
Trembling, we cower back,
As the monsters roar and cackle,
Setting for the last attack.
Then a shout upon the hillside
Draws our eyes across the land,
Silhouetted by the sunset
Is the figure of a man.
He lifts up his sword, defiant,
Hulking shadow, edged in light,
And he spurs his stead to gallop,
Charging down into the fight.
Raise your heads and see, my brothers,
Shrink away in fear no more,
For we have not been abandoned,
And the King’s son comes to war!
– s. Clark
Shigé Clark Writing 