Black was the dawn

Black was the dawn,
of our betrayal,
children banished,
Cain kills Able.
Sin’s dark legacy,
grows and continues…
wars lay wastw hope,
cutting bone from sinews.
Hardened hearts nurture,
endless pride and lust,
wrath opens the earth,
swallowing gold’s distrust.
Tablets lay shattered,
strewn upon the ground,
soon prophets foresee,
crucifixions’s crown.

Black was the dawn,
betrayed and kissed,
flesh striped by scourging,
lacerated by spit.
A lamb finds slaughter,
awaiting a cross,
love refines sacrifice,
from our dross.
Blinded by bloodthirst,
to Heaven’s facade,
His head falling slump,
their crooked smiles nod.
“And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how He died, he said,
Surely this was the Son of God.” (Mark 15:39)

by Chris Clody
11/14/20

The Great Pause

582749main_sunrise_from_iss-4x3_946-710

Adversity. Restraint. Community. Three words that have absorbed new depths that challenge us during The Great Pause. Although independent in meaning they combine in an unfamiliar, or at best, forgotten triune mystery leading our hearts and/or minds to envision reality as it emerges from the paralyzing grip of the Covid19 pandemic. I say hearts and/or minds because it appears to me we are being led to a fork in the road opportunity.  To resume what history and science has deemed an impossible fight against limited resources or to continue by encouraging a new way of life afforded by the hidden grace imbued by this pandemic’s new normal. To resume disconnects the heart from the mind while to continue engages a childlike fellowship between the heart and mind. Like the tired argument against faith and works, transformation occurs when hearts housing an Image awaken to its divinely invested goodness and dignity that would better serve us as stewards of the human family and the gift of this planet we call Earth.

The Great Pause

A chorus of excitement filling misty air,
Cool and thick with joyous birdsong,
Awaiting the miracle of warmth and light,
Praising The Giver of sun to whom they belong.

The invisible assembly of unrivaled echoes,
Rise higher and pierce sharper than the day before,
Growing aware of newfound inheritance,
Grateful praise from feathered bodies increase in vigor.

The white dawn breaks quietly,
Piercing the horizon in glittering light,
The days pass by namelessly,
Whilst a vast solitude imposes its invisible fight.

This peculiar adversity,
Restraining exploitation into private Lent,
Yet the Earth breathes cleaner in respite,
The pillager fasts from consuming Natures willing ferment.

The predator grows lean and ever anxious,
Yearning to rejoin its hunt with the pack,
Still…Paralyzed in profound hesitation,
The sullen hunted awaits planning its counterattack.

Repentance drawn by contemplative breath,
Unwelcome at first by dawn’s first blush,
Yet the comforting sounds of Nature’s delight,
Awakened childhood memories replacing their scouring rush.

Like a shoot blossoming from a dry, dead limb,
Miraculous prospects haunt repentant minds within,
Hoarding gives away to communal needs,
Realizing less is more gazing upon Nature’s healing skin.

Childhood’s idealism seeds a new uprising,
Preparing for war against pedantic wants,
Thoughtful discussions fill conversation’s sandbox,
Proposing a new hope like a baptismal font.

A decision awaits the marauder’s fork in the road,
An ancient choice between an old and new will,
Submission beckons both to slavery,
One is kenotic… the other lonely and downhill.

The wondrous orb sinks quietly into dusk,
Returning with birdsong’s grateful delight,
Hoping tomorrow brings rise to new daylight,
Dreaming that the predator is gone from their sight,
Praising The Giver who changes hearts to contrite.

by Chris Clody
5/23/20

Faith: Beyond The Ovarian Lottery

Recently, I read an interesting post regarding the geographical implications of the faith one may practice. Altering Warren Buffet’s comment that it’s an ovarian lottery and simple geography and not the some Divine, constant truth that determines one’s faith. First I am always wary not to agree with Warren Buffet. I love the concept of a lottery and must admit it is inarguably true. We are very much a product of our geography and the traditions and legacies passed down. However…Warren is not simply betting against the bank, but the mysterious origin of love. True love, that extends eternally outside the pale of sexual or affectionate desires, is all-consuming. A love that has no bounds or borders is undefined by limits of The Giver. Yes, we are all born into many different and unique situations, in fact, I was considered a ‘cradle Catholic’. Yet, faith is simply a dormant label until a precious epiphany is reached. It is in this moment that Warren Buffet is treading in very deep water with only a horizon in his panic-stricken sight. But for Warren…that is still a good thing. Despite the location of his now exhaustive effort to stay afloat, he, the great Warren Buffet, realizes he too is small. Humility helps those awaken to the vastness of love the attentive Giver holds and has already surrounding each and every small and desperate soul. There are no nouns that really dignify the mysterious Creator. Nouns define the boundaries of our reason. Still, humankind is not so limited to accept that which cannot be explained. Therefore, we must agree that even the word ‘love’ cannot be as fully understood as it can be by the heart.
We all know that feeling when we give fully of ourselves to lift another up. We find an unusual joy when we walk alongside another during their long and difficult journey. We also know that love is not overwhelmed by fear. It is in that moment when the veil hiding the elusive Uncreated within and surrounding us seems a bit thinner. This is our path to freedom outside the lottery: Love.
Take time to be still and consider the vastness of Mercy that patiently awaits our choice to open our hearts to receive this very gift.

the99knff1

Breathless…

Breathless at the precipice of awe,
My courage dares to wonder,
Reason stammers then withdraws
Like a child escaping thunder,
But my heart simply surrenders.

The Uncreated vibration
That makes electrons dance,
An impossible orchestration,
Laughing in the face of chance,
Revealing instead an offered romance.

Known only in moments yet undefined,
Transforming hearts to yearn,
A gift of love for all humankind,
A chance to repent and discern,
Guided, Comforted, and convicted in our return,
To follow the Son without fear of sunburn.

A cross to pick up and then embrace,
Confessed sins whispered yet soon erased,
Gazing at the One who stood in our place,
Unworthy am I to tie His shoelace,
My moment to know is a glimpse through grace,
Aching to see my King face to face,
I stand breathless, watching, and ever awake.

By Chris Clody
10/7/2016

Looking within… Oi veh.

This morning the word repent took on a slightly different tone then its typical groan. If it is true that our God is the God of all hearts, then to repent should be more than just a half-spin around but rather a halt to our momentum, becoming still, and look bravely within.  A needful gaze within our own heart to face the demons ruling our darkness of our casual parade through sin.

Sadly, I believe, true repentance, cannot be done alone since it’s the joyful work of God. This process will reveal why we truly ‘fear’ God. Despite God’s capacity for wrath, it is not why I fear Him. Ultimately it is the vastness of His willing forgiveness that leaves my jaw slag. ‘Worse’, it is His remarkable invitation through Jesus, this God-man, who prefers to not bridge safely over our miserable consequence, but plows through it, holding (sometimes dragging) me through why and how mercy is given to those who need it most.

As I finish some of my long walks down memory lane with my Brother and begin another, these following words spilled out in prayer.

0905-1-CallingAbrahamAndCallingUs

 

Walk With Me

Jesus take my hand,
and walk with me awhile,
help me face myself,
and purge this darkness,
that holiness reviles.

Unless held by you,
I can’t stand to face,
this sadness alone,
Mocked by sneers of sin,
that fills my heart with stones.

My legs grow heavy,
still you hold me high,
Now feels so surreal,
Smiling in my repent,
Gazing deep into my eyes,

Breathing into me,
I plunge my depths within,
Seeing woes through this mercy,
This Alpha helps love begin,
This Omega crushes all my sin.

Brother!
Fear not!
Be of Good Cheer!

Of all things you say!
while loathsome regret,
enjoys its final maul.
You wipe my loneliest tear,
Convincing me,
Love has conquered all.

by Chris Clody 2/11/2016

imagesCAJW22QD

Finally a bit of snow…

Snow and Ice

As the falling snow soon covers,
Our sins we do today,
The ice becomes our memory,
To repent of yesterday.

Winter’s bittersweet reflection,
Quickly slips beneath our feet,
Lifting up the forgiving snow,
That hid from vision our defeats.

Yet Christ is more than covering,
Hiding sins from our Father’s will,
He’s more than a bridge to Heaven,
He not only spans…He’s fills.

Deep in snow,
Atop the ice,
Heaven hides,
In sacrifice.

Lift your eyes,
And you will see,
The cross of Christ,
Will set you free –

If you just believe…

 ©2012 by Chris Clody 1/19/2012

For more Christian encouragement check out my ebook by clicking the following link: Thoughts2Share