i'm holding on,
not letting go
to what is the question i don't always know

the memories of old,
the hopes of a future
how i feel is sometimes still very unsure.

give me a reason,
please don't make me ask
to confirm or deny the feelings of the past

a fire burns within,
sometimes the smoke i cannot hide
may it warm, not burn those who've heard, though i've tried...

...to swallow the flames,
too many times
may scar the heart and tear the eyes, is it a crime?

to fuel the fire,
keep it burning low and strong
or let forth from my mouth the flame, is it wrong?

what will be left of me
if it burns, burns, burns
please, come near and feel its warmth
else i drink of cool water, may it ne'er return

Heart sick

My heart has set to sea
and like a ship rocks to and fro

I doubt
I trust
I doubt
I trust
I doubt and so it goes.

Is it harbor that I seek?
But dry-docked how would I grow?
Like you, I want to live the dream.
It's too soon to let this go.

Reflection

What I was, what I am
What I hope to be, all of me

I'm owning it - the good, the bad
An offering to You, a soul made new

Time, money, talent, strength
What good is it if not invested?

The barns are full, I've more than I need
Soured milk, moldy bread, who needs a place to lay their head?

I won't be the man whose pockets were full,
and at the funeral bed, no word was said.

Why believe in God?

The following is an excerpt from a response to a friend who is questioning the existence of God. For a Christian, it's not new news but rather the Good News. Thanks to my sister-in-law for reminding me of the heart of the matter.


"...I was talking to my sister-in-law earlier this week about how she came to believe in God and she concisely answered “Jesus.” There are countless accounts of Jesus life, only 4 of which I have read, but according to those writings, he lived a perfect life: He thought of others more than Himself at all times, even to the point of death; in other words, He loved perfectly. When I match myself up to him, I don’t measure up. If there is a God, then it was a pretty smart idea to beget a perfect being that would reveal His true wishes for humanity. His mission was to love and to set people free. Those who choose to follow Him won’t lose the battle…they won’t be plagued with fear and loneliness, stifled by guilt, controlled by anger or jealousy, or any other damaging human experience. So, why did (do) people reject him? Because they saw that His power and authority threatened their own. Now, the weak have a defender and justice reigns over injustice.

There are many reasons why I believe in God, but, I agree with my sister-in-law: Jesus is the best reason to believe in God."

All men are like grass...

If grass had a voice,
what would it say?
Watch your feet, show respect or,
don't be shy, I'm not for display.

If grass had a choice,
where would it go?
To the seaside shore
or gracing peaks of old?

Where is your voice
and what is your choice?
For like the grass of the field
to death we must yield.

Like Ruth, I had a choice
to stay behind or go,
turn my back on my gods
for a God I did not know.

Like Ruth, I had a voice
to plead for his protection,
asking him to be
my savior from destruction.

We are like grass...
when will we breathe our last?
But we have a choice
and we have a voice.

A rap, given up to Kim & Matt

The pivot in the middle: be balanced, be still
One minute I'm healthy - and the next I am ill
Lookin' to God to make my body be well, so I'll tellya

There's no God like our God,
No God like our God.

He heals all our diseases,
just look to Jesus.

There's no God like our God,
No God like our God.

A speculation from an onlooker

Like a ship and its sail are a man and his wife...

Lay down your oars,
save your strength,
for the battles instead.
Let her catch the God-breathed wind
to carry you ahead.

The Living Word a map, His Spirit a compass,
and the rudder is at your command.
"Do not fret," so she says, "With strength of bow and sail,
together, we'll safely reach Land."

Burden

Chorus
Lord, take this burden from my soul,
And place it at the foot of the cross.
Lord, take this burden from my soul,
And fill me again with you.

Vs. 1
When the news of his death got around,
A town not just a family fell down.
When he took the game of life in his hands,
I found out the weakness of man.

(Chorus)

Vs. 2
Have the lies and the hurts of this world left you torn
wishing you had never been born?
Have the pains of life been too hard to bear
that the thought of life not death is what you fear?

(Chorus)

Vs. 3
As the winds blow the clouds from the sky
you've wiped away the sin from my life.
As the sun chased the moon from the night
you swept away the darkness with light.

Lord, take this burden from my soul,
And place it at the foot of the cross.
Lord, take this burden from my soul,
And fill me again with you.
And fill me again with you.


...This is a song my Dad and I wrote in the mountains of Tennessee. Originally a Gospel tune, it was later produced and doctored up by Neil. Check it out at the Family Band Eckstein and other great tunes recorded by Neil and Steve. (Kim, Christy...where you at?) http://www.myspace.com/thefamilybandeckstein

Speak

If I thought words were weightless
then why should I speak
no sign of origin nor receipt?

When I pause before I speak
I'm not without thought
bored, embarrassed, confused, or distraught.

When I stare blankly, lips sealed
don't think I'm a fool
each word can be a piranha or a jewel.

Foreign Tongues

In the last couple of months, I've been learning new languages. Though previously foreign to me, they have begun to take on familiarity in my heart, mind, and spirit.

My heart has picked up a new language, speaking of things which I cannot decipher. I suspect that it is trying to dodge the critique of my mind. But, I will be its student, poking and prodding around in its desires until I find their root. Those that have strayed from the truth and the light, I will uproot and replant in the Promised Land.

My body has taken to a new expression of worship to God: dance. My Indy Church (as I will refer to it, so as not to disregard my grateful membership in a Cincy Body of Believers) has invited any willing members to join in an Easter dance, and I have eagerly accepted. It is a choreographed hip hop dance to Yolanda Adam's "Victory," specifically chosen for this occasion to celebrate the victories that we have won through Jesus. I've been attending practices weekly in Indianapolis to prepare. In our studies of the dance, we haven't neglected its ultimate purpose: to bring glory to God. Each practice begins with corporate and individual times of dance in the likeness of singing worship songs with the Church and praying alone on our bedroom floors. Then, we practice the dance, not just as a serious of movements mimicking the rhythms of a song but as a declaration of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection and a testimony of how He has changed our lives. If you would like to attend, you are welcome.

My tongue has even tasted the language of silence, one in which has found its use in the classroom. Several weeks ago, a battle cry broke out in my classroom when I tried to convince one student to practice pre-writing despite her obvious misgivings. My argument was that writing is bound to be better when preceded by gathering and organizing thoughts. She vehemently replied in a loud voice that she WOULD NOT pre-write. She has tried before. It has come to no good. It serves no purpose. And, she finds it to be absolutely pointless and stupid. By God's grace, my strong will was silenced in that moment and for the next several moments. After seconds which dragged on like minutes, the silence was broken by the same voice of which it had followed. The newly repentant young girl dropped her guard and openly apologized to me. I was relieved. One battle had ended with no casualties, and I had gained new artillery.

Taking the scenic route...

In college, following cherished afternoons at my sister's house, I was often found en route from the north side of Indianapolis to my college home to the south. Driving down 465, I happily anticipated cutting west on 75, watching the city skyline grow up into full view. On special days, tossing time constraints to the wind, I took the exit ramp onto a side street, yearning to be stitched into the city scene that I so admired. While my wheels carved out the right angles of the city blocks and my feet danced between accelerator and brake, my eyes took in the people cutting along the sidewalks through the maze of high rise buildings. From the ranks of lights lining the offices above to the sleepy lights of the cafes below, the old adage rang true: a city never sleeps.

Though I may have sacrificed some valuable studying or sleeping to take these detours, I knew I wouldn't regret taking the time to divert my attention from the destination and enjoying the ride.

People often say it's the journey, not the destination that matters the most. I tend to agree, especially in light of my recent fixation with planning for the future. I am discerning the best way I know how: praying, seeking counsel from the Body of Christ, using my God-given intelligence, and trusting God. But, more often than not, an additional component tends to sift its way into the discernment process, threatening to spoil its crop: worry. And, I believe that the seed of this worry is pride and mistrust. This is inexcusable because I serve an all-knowing God. He is bringing me on this journey of discernment to teach me more about Him. Knowing the author of my life gives me insight into the storyline, but my story is only an excerpt of His larger, more important story.

Ultimately, though my life doesn't regularly admit it, being a Christian takes away the guesswork from making decisions about vocation because the journey and the destination are one in the same: knowing God.

"A man plans his course, but the Lord directs his path." Proverbs 16:9
I'm planning my course, but I will go on whichever path the Lord leads.