Never Sleeps

While a pastor on the Fort Berthold Reservation I was honored with the Indian name, "NeverSleeps". It was primarily because I was often responding to particular needs in the middle of the night.

Even more relevant, the Lord Himself, Maker of all, "Never Sleeps".

Surely you know.
Surely you have heard.
The Lord is the God who lives forever,
who created all the world.
He does not become tired or need to rest.
No one can understand how great his wisdom is.

Isaiah 40:28

Welcome to every reader. I am a simple follower of Jesus. He is perfect, I often fall short.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

An Underdog Story



Goliath said: “If he can kill me, our people will be your slaves. But if I kill him, your people will be our slaves. Here and now I challenge Israel’s whole army! Choose someone to fight me!” 1 Samuel 17:9 10

David and Goliath is probably the greatest underdog tale there is. It was common practice to have one “Champion” represent on nation’s army the opposing army’s Champion. Goliath, ranging anywhere from seven-and-a-half to nine feet tall, challenged the Israelite armies to send such a Champion against him. His sheer size, combined with his fighting expertise, froze every potential opponent in their boots.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Among the Noises



Among the Noises

“[God] first saved us and then called us to this holy work. We had nothing to do with it. It was all his idea, a gift prepared for us in Jesus long before we knew anything about it.” 2 Timothy 1:9 [The Message])

Banish the velvet thrones, the lookout points above the rest,
Bulldoze the silver stands, the pulpits of pretense undressed;
And plant in their places, build common spaces,
quads and plazas, parks and picnics
where gifts are shared at sea level,
work is hands upon hands passing the plans
initialed before notions of my,
authored above contests of why.

Ears to the sky, eyes flying in reply to
the request sent pre-echo,
the orders cast, the Word applied,
the first are last, the down upside,
and few find their way, and pass the
narrow gate with their furniture too wide
to carry home.

Build me a legend and I’ll feed you hungry,
story upon story, we covet the sky,
Tell me your hero and I’ll know you roughly,
conquest upon success, we conspire to buy

Our way home.

But bought before us, and called last and first,
the Beginning of beginnings, the Author of earth
tracks us down, subtracts our precious,
counts our zeroes and calls us total when we
step down from our thrones and all other self-owns,
to find our voices among the noises of the redeemed.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Rule Over Me


Rule Over Me

(“Someday I will appoint an honest king from the family of David, a king who will be wise and rule with justice.” Jeremiah 23:5)

Rule over me in Righteousness,
Reign over all my merciless,
Sing into me Your Lovingness,
Wash away all my passionless.

Declare Your Name, Decree my shame
has been swept final away, and the fury of my
misspent gain is bankrupt fully subtracted.

Linger over me in green-hill joy,
Loom far above my gray-back alley,
Command perfection, ban my collections
of gods who whipped me into shapeless and
goddesses who laughed my ghost.

Subject, silent, awake and aware,
I am all unclothed, unstable, unable
to bear the touch the broken wool against my skin
one day longer without Your dominion
within.

Laugh at my handy attempts, my exempt petitions
that beg Your permission for one more misstep, one more
toe across the line. We were doing fine until
I kinged me acute one sunny day.

Humbling upon the harsh reality,
mocking my own rewritten legality,
I kneel this time face-first in my sorrow and joy,
Righteous King, Rule over me; all Your Lovingness Sing.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Taking Things into My Own Hands


”So I took things into my own hands, and sacrificed the burnt offering.” 1 Samuel 13:12b

Saul acts outside his authority. He was supposed to wait for Samuel who was coming in a week. It was nearing the seventh day and Saul got anxious; no sign of the prophet, the sacrifice was waiting, something had to be done.

How many times have we given in to that thought: “Something has to be done!” There is no doubt that certain situations demand action. To be frozen into inaction, our hands hanging limp in a crisis is never to be preferred. But there is also great wisdom in not overreacting. There is great strength in showing the restraint to resist the impulse to force a situation forward.

Saul yields to his own impetuous nature and takes things into his own hands. It was, first of all, never the king’s right to offer sacrifices. Secondly, Samuel had told Saul to wait for him. Saul had actually told Samuel he never wanted to have the priest’s prerogatives, but, the first chance he has, he does exactly that. He sacrifices the burnt offering! His actions betray a desire for power that his words tried to mask.

We may well say we support someone’s decision, but the test truly comes when we have the chance to put our hands in the mix. If we truly support what the person has done, we will resist the temptation to make it happen quicker, better or more precisely. It is their project, and our actions need to line up with our words. Forego your impulse to need control. Let the person pursue their assignment without feeling the need to tinker with it yourself.

Saul’s misstep seems to be such a small infraction, yet it costs him the kingdom. The act is the symptom of a greater deficiency of character. Saul does not trust anyone. He thinks David is trying to kill him and imagines his own son Jonathan is conspiring with him. He is jealous of the attention David gets when he returns from battle to the point of enraged tantrums. He is what we would call a “control freak” today. Even as king, he didn’t feel like he had enough influence, and tries to take the priests’ duties as well.

He could not control the hasty prompting of his inner nature and listen instead to the methodical and certain movements of God’s Spirit. How could he any longer be God’s representative when he acts only out of what is expedient, and not out of faith? How could he be a man after God’s heart, when he was a person of constant haste and restlessness?

And how about us? Do I respond to the hasty prompting of my lower self? Does impatience drive me to act well before any action is required? Does fear cause me to speak sharply and harm relationships with those around me? Does paranoia cut me off from full and open relationships with people who care about me?

When I was young I did what many other ten to thirteen year old boys did: I put together model cars and airplanes. Impatience was my downfall. My first few attempts I just glued and fit things together the way the pictures showed. Leaving a steering wheel out, or realizing the seats had to be put in before the body was glued together, next time I actually read the instructions. Still my haste won the day. Because I couldn’t wait to see what the finished product looked like, I left the painting till last. I know now how foolish that was. The tiny inner pieces have to be painted first, before it is assembled, or paint is splattered over every part of the model.

As followers of Christ, we have even more motivation to wait. God has promised that, if we wait on Him, we will gain more strength. And, to wait, we must slow down; to slow down, we have to get our hands off the situation and show God we actually trust Him.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

God's Words: Our Heart's Delight


God’s Words: Our Heart’s Delight

(“When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear your name, LORD God Almighty.” Jeremiah 15:16)

One of the delights I look forward to each summer vacation is tasting food I might not ordinarily eat. Whether in ethnic restaurants, a gem of a hole-in-the wall we simply stumbled upon, or the home cooking of good friends, we often get to share unique and uncommon meals together.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Once the Daylight


Once the Daylight

(“Samuel served as Israel’s circuit judge all his life.” 1 Samuel 7:17)

It is never the work that makes timing worthwhile,
It is the light, cutting through the shadows, that fetches
the smile from our face and supplies the grace better replacing
duty after duty, place after place.

It is never the rounds, the ups and downs, that pile up word into an epitaph,
It is the way the house smells when you come back home, the second half,
the journey after the roam, the phone calls who wondered,
the generations who pondered who you were and how you
came to enter their morning and never leave unknown.

It is hardly the paycheck, the raincheck, the wages set in stone,
It is the habit of salutation, wayside with pets on the porch,
proprietor on the phone;
wife out back with the children organic and homegrown.

It is rarely the talent, the quickest fingers, precision’s boast,
it is the song unrehearsed, cradle to epilogue, by every customer
around the edge-of-town trading post;
the words you remember, the melody never lost,
you can pick it out in an instant, public domain,
traded across, handed down, taught by mama,
hummed by papa, danced by cousins round the
Friday night bonfire while the babies sleep their
first lullaby on the dusty blankets and sheets.

It is never the plaques or trophies, but the places filled
with worlds within a village, universes lit behind
golden shades on a cabin fall night. The men in rockers,
the women whispering children, the dancers gazing lightly

Content.  Who knew the visit, duty bound as last year’s sojourn,

Could aim the handwriting well-early in the day that all would read
once the daylight was done.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Like Fire to the Friend


Like Fire to the Friend

(“Jesus gave Himself to rescue us. God showed us this at the right time.” 1 Timothy 2:6)

I want to run like fire to the Friend who shines
so sharp the sun fades way. I want to rush like water
to the Lover who fills so full the
rivers look dry. I want to gust like wind to the
Hero who wisps so sure the hurricanes
lose their names.

I am poor, I am needy weakness, I am sore, I am solitary abandon,
I am long on requests, short on answers, quick to share my certainties,
slow to list my failures.
Quick to see yours, (finger pointed silently), dim about mine,
(letters written defensively).

What I mean to say, what I’ve always said, is I’m sure I’m a sinner,
as sure as you are one too! It’s the sinning I find hard to admit to,
the daily habit of missing the mark. I will hide my mistake
year after year, while confessing my sinfulness bleak!

I need to fall like fever into the Hands of the Healer
so precise surgeons mime His work. I need to sleep like
a second son next to the Father whose purpose is complete.
I need to stand like a man in remission, disease and death
conquered
by rose petal strength,
reclaimed
by creation-length hope,
restored
by resurrection rule.

I hear the call of the Music which sings
so honey and milk I stop all I am writing,
my muses go to sleep,
and I am loved like Love in all its softness and clout,
by the Brother, Mother, Father, Son;
all-in-one…three-in-all, fully above me,
around me, below me and in me. The distance once eternal
has been closed by redemption’s rugged smile.