Every day, same plan, same game every day: Eat a little better, work a little harder, get a little smarter, make love a little longer. The internet algorithms got us figured out, a clip, an email, a picture or a twitter la petite mort a thousand little deaths has our veins thumping for another. But don’t bother that your life is stringing you out. You say I don’t have time any more But it’s time to be holy It takes time to be holy. Don’t just hide in the garden with Jesus. He’s out here walking the streets. We’ve got to go with him through the scum and the mud use our skin as collateral. Let him cut through the media hum buzzing and fuzzing up your brain. We’ve got to feed on His Word instead of feasting on our feeds. Keep up his pace, steady feet, steady heart, steady faith. The more we look at him, the more we’ll look like him. It’s time to be holy. Take the time time to be holy. We keep calm and carry on as we sail on through this storm Even though Jesus is strutting on the water. Keep your eyes on him as you sink beneath the waves he’ll pull you down through the bottom into fountains of love.
My God, my hope My nothing less Than all. Come quick, come fast And land again amidst the roiling swell Burning dove of Zion, Reigning kind and friend to men. Hunker in my hurting heart; Make refuge, Hiding, humble in the crowded cave. Boom out to all with ears to hear Your joy for all the worlds: You’ve stayed your hand, You’ve stayed with man. My God, my God Come dwell again in me.
If a am a tree I am dead Dried-up wormwood, Eaten through With homegrown lies— A dirty dearth of earthly material. Burn through me; Cut me down. Grow your fresh green shoot Up through my roots Reengineer ancestry And plant me by the stream That feeds the boughs which Blossom in the eons.
There’s a trembling in my bones that shudders to the beat of a windstrung song and shouting throng and a hundred thousand feet. For my Father comes in power and he’s coming for the weak and waiting. Will you come, Lord God, in quiet thunder and echo throughout empty spaces places of decadence and desolation? Will you come and burn with fire fury the tears off of our faces? For those who hear you coming put our ears down to the ground to feel the earth shake and wait, we wait for you, our coming swift salvation. The king of a thousand armies calling in the thump and wink of a heartbeat. Eyes forced and held open in an act of trust while desert dust is flung in our faces and our eyes water freely bleary and fainting droplets hissing in scorn-filled heat. Here together with arms held and up high, forcing breath out weakened lungs to the angry sky, a "Hallelujah!" chorus is our unified cry– as we wait