Trey

March 22, 2013

I never see a mailman but I think of you.

The other day I saw a mailman

And he walked the way

You walked, Trey,

When you walked away

I never heard the spirit three in one like you.

The other day I heard a guitar-man

And he didn't play the way

You played, Trey,

When you wailed away

We knew you always wanted to play,

For sure…just waiting to play,
You were always there, hinting-

Pulling out your guitar,

Whenever and wherever,

There you were, smiling and squinting

Until a song appeared, and sitting

There, you strummed away…

In your cowboy boots.

Written for Dee and the folks at DCC

For Such a Time as This

For such a time as this

You were sent to be with us

To work beside us in the field

Behind the harvesters.

For such a time as this

You show us how to glean,

How to gather among the sheaves

The precious few that might be lost.

For such a time as this

You reveal humility.

For such a time as this

You gratefully accept this corner

And seek not another plot

Or desire the master’s role

Or even that of foreman.

For such a time as this

You are patient.

For such a time as this

You bring us water and food

And protect our children

From the wild

And the stray.

For such a time as this

You shelter us.

For such a time as this

You are raised up.

The Lord of the harvest

Calls your name

You! Faithful servant!

Come out from the corner

And work here beside me.

For such a time as this

You are blessed. 

For such a time as this

You are given the seeds of light,

The beginnings of saints.

The harvest of many seasons to come

Is in your hands

For such a time as this

You are entrusted.

For such a time as this

The row is laid open.

Broken many times

By the one who goes before you

The soil is rich and fine

And ready.

For such as time as this

The Spirit prepares the way for the Word.

For such a time as this

You are given strength, hope,

And a clear voice,

Sufficient for the work at hand.

A special beauty is yours

Which shines in the morning field

A reflection of Him in you.

For such a time as this

God has provided.

For such a time as this

You have prepared your mind,

Your heart and spirit.

For such a time as this

You have collected your things,

Instructed your daughters

And said goodbye to your husband.

For such a time as this

You are called…

Esther 4:14, Ruth 2:3-23

Written several years ago for my beautiful Vicki when she was about to set out to Russia on a short term mission trip.

Church in the Middle of Nowhere (Lyric Version)

 March 2, 2013; March 29,2013 (lyric)

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere,

My friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a church  in the middle of nowhere.

Indian Summer, just last year -

Out in the country, just last year;

Off of the highway, down a dirt road

Ten miles out; across an old guard.

Was this party in the middle of nowhere.

End of the summer, just last year –

Out in the sunshine, just last year;

People parked in the drive, out in the road

They came from all over, stood in the yard.

[Pattie said] People came from God knows where.

Wish I could have been there.

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere.

About sitting down with our friend Cindy

At the church in the middle of nowhere.

Reminds me of summers, long past years-

Down in Young County, long lost years!

Drove off of the highways, down the dirt roads

Past the oil tanks and the rusty old guards,

Lookin’ for parties in the middle of nowhere.

This church-house party, just last year-

Out in the country, just last year;

Folks hauled their tribute down that dirt road

Emptied their trucks; loaded down their cars

Auctioned their tools, sold clothes they still wear.

Wish I could have been there.

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere.

About sweet tea drinkin’ with her friend Cindy

At the church in the middle of nowhere..

They had a spread there, just last year-

Out in the country, just last year;

Smoked offerings drifted down the dirt road.

The meat ran out; men ran off in their cars.

God found them and fed them – even out there!

Wish I could have been there.

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere.

About a sweet time with our friend Cindy

And the church in the middle of nowhere.

And the Sand Came (Lyric Version)

March 19, 2013; March 29, 2013 (lyric)

This is a longer version of the poem that might be better suited for song lyrics.

Vessel discarded

Thrown in the pit

Outside the camp

Left in the wilderness.

And the sand came

And filled my mouth

And the sand came

And filled me inside

And the sand came

And I was full

And the sand came

Bones of departed

All around me

Bleached by the sun

Death in the wilderness

And the sand came

And filled my mouth

And the sand came

And filled me inside

And the sand came

And I was full

And the sand came

Vision distorted

Illusion of love

Thirsty mirages

Dry in the wilderness

And the sand came

And filled my mouth

And the sand came

And filled me inside

And the sand came

And I was full

And the sand came

Rider dismounted

Dug down to me

Lifted me up

High in the wilderness.

And the rain came

And filled my mouth

And the rain came

And filled me inside

And the rain came

And I was full

And the rain came

And the Sand Came

March 19, 2013

Vessel discarded

Thrown in the pit

Outside the camp

Left in the wilderness.

And the sand came

And filled my mouth

And the sand came

And filled me inside

And the sand came

And I was full

And the sand came

Rider dismounted

Dug down to me

Lifted me up

High in the wilderness.

And the rain came

And filled my mouth

And the rain came

And filled me inside

And the rain came

And I was full

And the rain came

Drunkards' Song

March 10, 2013

            I am the talk of those who sit in the gate,

                        and the drunkards make songs about me.

(Psalm 69:12 ESV)

Drunkard's Song

Ya’ll just go on then, pull down the gate

Tell all your stories, laugh at my fate

Lean back and snicker and cover your grin

I know what you’re thinking; “He’s done it again.”

But let me tell you boys from school

I’m sure as hell not the only fool

Who’s ever loved someone untrue.

Don’t be surprised if next it’s you

Who gives up everything he’s got

To chase the one that loves him not,

Bets the farm on a pretty young colt,

And sells his saddle for sallow love notes.

Ya’ll just go on then, laugh at my fate

Tell your stories but don’t fall off the gate

Lean back and snicker and cover your grin

I know what you’re thinking, “He’s at it again.”

                                      

I won’t try to tell you you’re wrong

I won’t deny you you’re drunkards’ song

Your right, this mess is really something

And I suppose I got it coming,

So I’ll just stand here; take your abuse.

But boys don’t think that I’m confused.

I know who she is; where she has been.

So, you can throw if you've never sinned.

Ya’ll just go on then, laugh at my fate

Tell your stories as you sit on that gate

Lean back and snicker and cover your grin

I know what you’re thinking, “He’s loves her again.”

The Church in the Middle of Nowhere

March 6, 2013

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere,

My friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a church  in the middle of nowhere.

In the Indian Summer, just last year -

Out in the country, just this last year;

It was off the highway, down a dirt road

‘bout ten miles out and cross the old guard,

Stood a party in the middle of nowhere.

At the end of the summer, just last year –

Out in the sunshine, just this last year;

People parked in the driveway, out in the road

They came from all over, stood in the yard.

Patty said, “People came from God knows where!”

Wish I could have been there.

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere;

About sittin’ down with our sweet pal, Cindy,

In this church in the middle of nowhere.

Reminds me of the summers, long past years-

Down in old Young County, Oh, those years!

We drove off the highways, down the dirt roads,

Past peeling oil tanks and across the cattle guards,

Lookin’ for parties in the middle of nowhere.

But at that church-house party, just last year-

Outside of Henrietta, just this last year;

Folks hauled in their tribute, down that dirt road,

Emptied their trucks, and loaded down their cars,

Auctioned their tools and sold clothes they still wear.

Wish I could have been there.

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere.

About sweet tea drinkin’ with her friend Cindy

At the church in the middle of nowhere.

They had a mighty spread there just last year-

Out in the country, just this last year;

Smoked offerings drifted up and down that road.

When the meat ran out, men ran off in their cars,

But God found them and fed them – even out there.

Wish I could have been there.

My good friend Pattie told me a story

‘bout a party in the middle of nowhere.

About a sweet time with our friend Cindy

And the church in the middle of nowhere.

The Good Stuff

March 1, 2013

Back last summer, when folks first started hearing the news about Lori’s cancer, they begin to wonder at the faith it took for Lori, Bryan, and the girls to handle that kind of life-Trouble so well -- in such a God-glorifying way.  Now this was big T trouble, the biggest trouble you ever saw, the kind of trouble that seems bigger than the whole world, overwhelming trouble. And when people would ask Bryan where they found the faith to deal with this, he would say, “It’s not a new faith. It’s the same faith we always had.  It’s not like we've got the Good Stuff back in the closet that we've been saving for times like these.  We haven’t been holding back. This is all the faith we have…it better be good enough.” If you go to our little church, or you are friends with Bryan, you have heard this story before.

So please forgive me, Bryan tells this story much better than I do.  In fact, I still get kind of broken up inside when I hear Bryan tell it, or I hear John Brown tell it, or I see the girls and Ed and Maxine continue to live it out. But no matter how much I've heard this story, no matter how much I understand the wisdom in it, no matter how much I nod my head and say “Amen!” to the truth of their witness…I got to be honest with you, I still find myself rummaging around in my personal storage and part-time prayer closet looking for the Good Stuff.

And if I can’t find what I am looking for in there, I go to my spiritual medicine cabinet and I pull out all the out-of-date prescription bottles and the vitamins-going-bad, and I go through every bottle one by one. I hold them up to the vent-a-hood light over the stove and try to decipher the fading label and dosage instructions that always seem to be written in fine print for old men to read.  Yes, I’m still looking for the Extra-Strength pain killers.

And some days, quite often lately it seems, I wake to find myself sleep-walking, actually sleep soul-searching the cabinets of our utility room, standing on my tip toes on the little step stool we keep in the downstairs bathroom for potty-training grandkids, reaching as high as I can and digging as deep as I can through those dusty shelves, looking for the Counter-cleaner Concentrate, the Good Stuff, the Ultra-Strong Faith.  I know it’s in there somewhere.