Death and Life and Lies and Truth

We started out alive. Very much alive. We were in direct, perfect communion with God. We had no division or misunderstanding or selfishness in our relationships with each other. We were physically healthy. We were mentally sound. We were emotionally fulfilled and whole.

And then

we

died.

God told us we would, if we did That; but we paid Him no heed.

Thought we knew best.

We tried so hard, we did.

We tried to pretend we were still alive.

We hid. Hid from the One with the Answer, from the One who sees all.

And we’re still dead and we still pretend.

Outside we look alive.

Inside we are naught but a corpse.

Rotting, shriveled, dry.

We plaster on a smile and we laugh and we talk loud and we DO. Frantically, we try to convince ourselves–or at least everyone else–that we aren’t really dead inside.

But we are.

And we all know it, no matter how hard we try to make it look otherwise, no matter how many people tell us we are beautiful and good, no matter how loud we laugh, no matter how much doing we pile on top of our deadness in an attempt to look alive.

Ugly, small, not-right.

This is us.

Correction: this is us without and before Christ…Before the Christ-life comes in and fills that hollow, dried up, dead spirit of ours. Before He comes and breaths His life into our breathless spirit. Before His Life-Blood begins flowing in our spiritual veins.

But oh, when it happens–what a glorious thing!

We who were

once dead,

who were

once far off–

are alive in Christ,

brought very near

by His precious life-blood.

Why, then, do we--who are alive in Christ--sometimes still feel dead? Why do we sometimes still see ourselves as ugly, shriveled, hopeless?

In a word:  

lies.

You see, Before, the lie was:  

You aren’t really dead;  

somehow, someway, 

you can beat it.  

You can cover it up.  

Hide, run  

and hide.  

Don’t let Him see.  

Just put on some more makeup,  

maybe buy some more expensive clothes.  

Make sure you do everything  

right.  

Keep doing all those good things; maybe 

that  

will make you feel better.

Once we see through that lie and accept the Christ-life, however, the lie takes another twist.

He whispers the other side of his deceitful tale into your delicate new ears:  

You aren’t really alive.  

You’re still just as 

dead 

as you ever were.  

Look at you!  

Insignificant, putrid, hollow old you.  

Who do you think you are,  

claiming to be new, holy, cleansed, alive?  

You’re wrong.  

He doesn’t really care for you.  

Maybe the other people–look how beautiful they are.  

Not you. 

 Look at what you’ve done, who you are.  

No…you’re still dead.

 BUT IT IS A LIE.

Just as plain and simple as that.

It’s a lie.

Lies are nothing, nothing but the twisted fragments of nightmarish thoughts from the Enemy of your soul.

The one who tricked us into believing The Lie that brought death to our souls in the first place. The one who desperately tried to keep your soul dead. And the one who, now that your spirit lives because of Christ in you, wants nothing more than to keep you believing that you are still dead.

Don’t listen.

Trust.

I know you don’t see, yet.

You don’t see what God saw when He had the idea for you. What He knows you’ll become at the end of the story. You don’t see, quite, the glow He had–has–in His eyes when He looked at you. You didn’t see His joy when your long-dead spirit finally accepted His life and became new.

But you have to trust.

Trust that He knows what He’s doing. Trust that He who has promised is faithful, and that He also will do it. Trust that He makes everything beautiful in its time. Trust that His life is in you, and that you aren’t dead inside any more.

No.

You are alive, very alive.

Because The One

who is

The Life

is in 

you.

Waiting

I must know, my heart demands.

How long, oh how long?

How long must I live in this fog?

How long until I see your plan?

Wait, He replies. Wait on me.

It is enough

He whispers

Into

My impatient heart

Enough that I know

I want to defend, my heart screams.

Will things ever be set right?

Will they ever see the other side?

Why don’t you show them now?

Wait, He replies. Wait on me.

I am your defender.

He whispers

Into

My misunderstood heart.

Leave it with me.

My dreams are dying, my heart cries.

Why must they die?

Will they ever be resurrected?

Were they not given me by You?

Wait, He replies. Wait on me.

I have a plan,

He whispers

Into

My longing heart.

And it is good.

Dying

Dying--a painfully apt word, right now.

Crushing sorrow, overwhelming disappointments, dreams crumbling, darkness surrounding...

Dying.

Being buried.

But not to be dead. No--we die in order to live. And to live abundantly. For if we die to ourselves--if we die to our dreams--if we bury our visions and passions-- He will raise us up again.

To life-- to life more abundantly.

For in order to bear much fruit,
the seed
must
die.

So, we die.

And with us, our dreams.

Our plans. Our ideas of how we will serve the Lord.

We die.

Not knowing, not seeing--
only trusting.

Trusting...

The Gardener knows what fruit we will one day bear. And He knows just how deep we must be buried.

He sees the wisdom in the death.

For He is the Life. He knows how abundant and glorious this new life will be.

So-- we die.

Simply trusting.

In the darkness.

In the cold aloneness.

In the crushing weight above us.

In the dirt around that misunderstands.

In the seemingly hopeless, endless nights.

In the pain of the utter loss of all we knew and were.

We wait.

Simply... trusting.

Life, Light--Him.

Will come...

in the spring time.

And in the spring, we shall
see...

glimpses

of the beauty

of

the dying.

No longer will
the darkness,
the weight,
the aloneness,
the uncertainty,
the misunderstanding
seem hard--nay,
they will seem

good.

For from that death

Life

has come.

Stars

There are nights
when
there are no
stars.

They are just--
gone.

No clouds....
no tent over our head--
just--
no stars.

Just blackness.

Empty; chillingly
blank.

Still--
we trust.

They are
there.

Hidden, but still
up above
the strange darkness...

They shine
brightly
faithfully
steadily.

Simply hidden...
though there
all along.

So we trust,
and wait.

Next night,
we look.

Hoping.

There--
stars.

Shining, just as always.

Never gone-- only hidden.

A Baby

Hushed conversations

Whispered suspicions

Quiet excitement

Almost daring to believe

Growing hopes

Querying, wondering

Waiting impatiently

Starting to believe

Asking, confirming

Really!?

Are you sure?!

It definitely looks that way!

Elation 

Hardly able to believe it

Such news: 

A new baby! 

Another miracle 

An unexpected and delicious one 

God is good

We are blessed.

~CLM 
December 2010

Roads

|The|

__________
----roads----
__________

up here

< go >  

{c 

    u
     r

    v
  i

n
   g}           

          p/   
    u/


|and|  

\d
   \o
       \w
           \n

.......

through
.......


   all
  those
 beautiful
  green
     trees
    ||
    ||
    ||


sw
  a
    y
i  
    n
g


|in

the|

:::breeze:::

~CLM

(I wrote this up in Massachusetts in the middle of the night [or pretty close, for those of my literal friends])

Paths

I do not know

What lies ahead;

The paths

Which I

May be called

To tread upon--

L

O

N

G,

lonely

w

  i

      n

d

  i

n   g ?

short

cRaZyYY!! 

Sh

      arp?

Where do I turn

When I run out of me?

When I no longer have

Ideas,

Plans

When I am 

cOnfuSed?

and

Certain!

[Un...?]

When the road ahead 

looks exactly

Like what lies behind

And I want to see

When

If

It changes

And how

And why.

Where does it lead, 

This path I tread?

Why is the direction

celanur

Foggy

Mysterious 

Unknown?

I want to see!

But then 

The Answer comes:

I must learn to trust

The One who

KNOWS

and cares

for me.

  
~CLM, October 2010

Every Once in Awhile

Every once in awhile,
Behind this smile,
There resides a little sigh.
You may wonder, "Why?"

Sometimes this mind
Gets stuck behind
In all this mess
Of worldliness.

Sometimes these eyes no longer see
The beauty He made for me.

Sometimes this heart, confused,
Remembers not the love infused.
By my Savior, my King--
And His praises cease to ring
Within my heart.

Oh! Let them not depart.
Never cease to fight
For what you know is right.
Though the night seems long
And you have forgotten your song--

Remember Him
And every whim
Of doubt--
Throw out!

He is the rock:
Let your trust lock
And your heart be filled
With His love, revealed.
Remember, when your heart despairs:
Your hope is found in prayer.

~CLM, October 2010

Elegy for Rose

By Carissa Mann


Sweet smelling,
Gorgeous,
Enchanting
I reach
And pluck
Ouch!


Now in water
In the center
Of our table
Petals the color of
Peaches and cream.
Wow.


Eating pancakes,
I notice
A change-
The rose is blushing!
Red petals tinged
With purple.


My friend
And I
Sip mint tea.
“Oh! How lovely.
A purple rose.”
I spy a hint of darkness.


Dusting the oak table,
I glance up
Rose is
Brown.
I pick up the petals
That have fallen.


Our table
Is bare,
Colorless.
Only memories
Of beauty
Remain.

Nature

By Carissa Mann

Outside my back door,

You surround me–

Grass pressed under my feet,

Birdsong on the air,

Perfume of wildflowers dancing,

A stream giggles past,

My hand rests on tree bark.

Outside the van window,
I see you again–
Sun slipping away,
Trees rushing past,
Birds in a line,
Pink and gold clouds,
Lengthening shadows.


Everywhere I look,
I discover you–
Hiding in a city park,
Sheltering me in a forest,
Sleeping in a campground,
Hurrying on a river,
Once again, you greet me.