Love is here

This is a short poem, bit of writing that I wrote years ago for the Jewels of Jesus magazine. I thought I might share it with you all, I hope you find it encouraging :)

Here.
Right Now. Love is here.
The Love that wept is here. Love is here.
Storms are swallowed here.
Here, all in One Who names Himself, I AM. Sickness lies at His feet in its twisted forms, hugging the ground in terror.
Life is here; the remains of death mark His hands. Loneliness is imprisoned in His shadow, the moans of defeated darkness faintly try to pierce the peace...

Evil lies in tattered ribbons on His back, faint scars, reminders of what it once was. Passion is here, wrapped about Him like a cloak. Power ripples through the air, strength is radiated from Him, mingled with spasms of light.
Love is here, wild and forever true. Tenderness resonates from eyes shot with wisdom and blended with grace. Justice marks the sword that hangs at His waist. Mercy sharpens it’s keen edge.
Love is here—it hums it the very air; waves of freedom collide with oceans of joy.

But yet He is there. Behind you. He is there in the corner of the room; outside the door, unnoticed by many. To many, He is not dressed in robes of scarlet, but rags. To many His body is withered and voice weak. By thousands He is left behind. —and yet His voice calls, “Here I stand at the door and knock…” Love is here, it has so much to offer, will you chose to follow It?
To take the paths riddled with danger and hardship? Will you choose to take it with the One Who loves you?
I leave that for you to tell Him… 

A strange life

Christianity

How are we meant to live with a name so mangled? This religion that has a history so marked?

We are so human…

Atheism vs Christianity google an article on either and you’ll see ragged back lashing from either side. Except the Christians claim to love them, Christians say it, but don’t seem to show it.

Where is Jesus?

I am a 17 year old girl living in rural New Zealand.  A backwater compared to the rest of the world I’m sure. I spend most of my time studying and working, realizing that this what is expected of a middle class woman and that I’ll probably be doing one or the other for the rest of my life.

How does this all relate? I’m not sure; maybe it’s a young person who’s trying to point out what is wrong in the world, what’s wrong with her religion, and what’s mixed up in the fact that in the academic world my opinion is nothing. That my life must somehow be the same because I don’t have enough money for a P.H.D. the only thing that lets you have an opinion.

That because I am a ‘good Christian girl” nobody is ever going to want my advice, my help, or my words.  That because I've never been raped, tortured, attempted suicide or been beaten I can’t legitimately help in things I believe need it the most. That no prostitute is ever going to listen to me because I know nothing. And maybe things are meant to be that way. Maybe I’ll live my life, get a job, get a house, get married have kids and die in a rest home.   

Or maybe there is a God out there who is bigger than my circumstances, who say it doesn't have to be that way. That it could be a lot more adventurous, a lot more giving and a whole lot harder.

Or maybe I’m meant to wait in a pew until I get my calling thrust upon me.

I’m pretty sure the guy who said give yourself as living sacrifice didn't have passive waiting in mind. Not that waiting is a bad thing. But for me it’s never really worked.

I guess what I am saying to myself and every Christian out there is we have to do something real. Regardless of the fact that someday the world will end. Regardless of the fact that goodness and heaven are somehow linked.  We have to find it in ourselves to reach out for the good of ourselves and the good of the world.

Rant over

A Life

Last night I was at a friends and we watched "Not without my daughter"
and the story goes that an American woman, Her Iranian Husband and their daughter go on vacation in Tehran for "two weeks". Due to family pressure and his Islamic faith her husband forces her to stay in Tehran, where she is required to wear a burqua etc. Long story short she tries to escape and he becomes very violent with her, many opportunities arise in which she could leave *by herself* but she refuses to leave without her daughter. In the end she finally gets back, but the thing that really hits home is that the story was true, and is true for many Western wives living in the Middle East.

This post isn't saying that all Muslims are women beaters, I'm very sure there is lost of nice muslims out there who love their familes. But the thing is there are lots of people being abused out there right now, regardless of religion, "race" or gender. Some people never get out of it and believe that this is what life is like. And when you think about that hard or what an intense movie like that,
You can't help but think... So much doesn't matter

So much... your own comfort... your house. If someone out there is hurting... if someone out there is dying inside, how can we keep living? How can we look at the world in the same way? How can we complain about our own problems when there is millions out there who have absouletely no hope? When everyday... every breath is full of pain? How can we begin to think of staying at home and getting married and having children, when so many children are abandoned, abused, starved and killed. How can we read books on how to be feminine when so many women are having the life crushed out of them? How can we buy a new couch or up grade some part in our house, when others go hungry?
How can we hog a hope to ourselves because we are scared of what others may think. How can we walk past people who are in chains?

But then we get locked up in our own little world, the world in which our utmost pleasure comes first. We forget what another's reality is like, we all are guilty of walking by and yes that "we" includes me.
So then I guess the question is how we break out of that? By taking a running leap at Jesus and making the jump?