Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I read this poem out of Jimmy Seibert's book, The Church Can Change the World. It was written by Carl Gully...I love the imagery. It is titled, Otherness...

That's what we're all about. Not trying to be like anyone or anything else. Just Jesus. It makes us look like aliens. Foreigners in a distant land. We stick out. And huimbly so. Why? Becasue the way we love is unusual. Out words bring tears of laughter and solace. Our music and dance are fueled by a different drummer and a better one at that. The fruit? A different song. A different value system. Not pushing the edge of sin and hell. Not ok with status quo. A place where beneficial vs permissible is clearly understood. And no one even wants the boundary line. We would much rather lunge out to the Kingdom's cutting edge...which is heaven's arms. Sitting on his lap is fine with me. His heart beat rythmically puts me to rest. Not apathetic slumber that leads to poverty. But deep love that thrusts us to Nineveh. Macedonians are still calling. And Ethiopians are still asking for someone to come and help them understand. And how do we know this?
For we look into different pair of eyes. Not just the window to his soul. But a magnifying glass of theirs. Look again: His tears aren't clear-and they don't taste like salt. Ther're colorful banners of the nations...and taste like the blood that was shed for them. A tear trickles down and I see Sri Lanka. Another hangs in the corner of His eye and deep inside I see a Sudanese lady worshipping over the family that just abandoned her. Here comes three more: Canada, France, Mexico. As he wipes his eyes, I see the colors of Morrocco, Russia, Scotland, and China on the palms of his hands. And where do those tears go? Not just stored in a bottle; but The Bottle. The one that held the cries of the saints of Germany. The one that held the deep secrets of Thailand's orphans, America's addicts, and Indonesia's widows. The groans of North Korea's underground church. And South Korea's prayer mountain. All in the bottle. Waiting for me to open my hands so he can pour them out. Why would he trust us with these treasures? These precious children of His? Because He calls us family. And He can trust us. Because we have seen the otherness of God. And long for more. For if You, God, were the same as the rest, You wouldn't be Holy. And my unholiness craves Your holiness. Your cleansing. You. In the process, we have become"other". And the importance of that? So many stories being told. Vying for my affecctions. My Passions. My heart.
But I refuse to be caught up in the small stories that seem brilliant at the moment, but soon become faded glory. I desire to be taken into His story. Into Your great plot for me and mankind. So I leap into the chariot of fire and ask for humility and courage to leave it all behind: NO MATTER THE COST! Because You desreve it. And they need it. Because I love You. And they need You. And the Spirit and the bride are still crying out, "Come Lord Jesus" And You will. You always do.

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