I wrote an Easter poem yesterday on Deep into Love. I heart the poem. It’s here. If you haven’t read it you’ll heart it too – I know you will – and it has the cutest pictures ever of a fluffy lamb!
Look – here’s one of them.
How can you resist? Go ahead – if you haven’t already – click here for the Easter poem. (◠‿◠)
Anyway, when I’m done I usually heart my poems. But if you’ve read me a little you know this:
Poems do not heart me.
All I do is try to create them – so they should heart me.
I try to dance with them but they kick my shins and stomp on my feet.
I even try to let them lead – and they only push me around – or drag me.
Every time I try to write one it attempts to murder a piece of me.
I keep saying I’m not a poet. And I know you guys laugh a little when you write – “Oh Craig stop telling us you’re not a poet!”
That’s because all you see is the nice little kindhearted poem that I post.
It’s like that adorable child all dressed up for church on a Sunday morning – perfect in every way. But only because you didn’t have to get them up, get their outfit ready. argue over color choices, do their hair, find the right bow for the hair – and go through this:
“No – not that one MOM – the other one!”
“Well the dog chewed up the other one sweetie.”
“I don’t care that’s the only one that’ll work mooooooooooom!”
You know the drill.
We only see the adorable well behaved child with the perfect bow at church.
That’s poetry for me.
Here’s an example. I spent about 6 hours writing that poem yesterday. I started a timer when I began writing this today – all these words that don’t need rhythm or fancy symbolism, or other poem-y type stuff. Let’s see how long it takes…
Today in the Bible study I come to James 2:6 “But you dishonored the poor person. Are not the rich oppressing you? And do they themselves not haul you off to court?”
James is gonna be on a rant about judgy-ness and “bad” rich people as opposed to “good” rich people for a while now. So I figure, “Hey, I get the main point, I’m gonna look for some nuances. Otherwise I’ll get bored – and then get boring.”
Anyhoodle (learned that word yesterday) today’s verse.
I see it and two words really pop out at me – “dishonored” and “oppress”.
The take away is easy – I don’t even have to look very far.
The rich in the verse are “oppressing” the “not rich”. And the “not rich”, have, in turn “dishonored” the poor. Stuff rolls downhill. The “poor” no doubt oppress and dishonor their dog – and the dog the cat – and the cat the mice – and so on.
The easy, simple, “so what” for me in this verse is this.
I think of how many times I’ve been “dishonored” by someone – from grade school on up – and I know how much I don’t heart that. And I think of the times I’ve been “oppressed” and I know how much I don’t heart that.
So today I do no oppressing – and no dishonoring – not one little bit. Today that’s my mission – all day long.
Easy
Done
And even a little funny
No kicking, no stomping, no attempted murder – in about an hour – including pictures!
See what I mean?
{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
I c what u mean, but I am still glad you enter the poem-writing ring and duke it out for us. The results are such rich prizes. And we all get to share in your prizes. Double blessings! Thank you for ‘the good fight’ on our behalf!
Ugh – poems – blargh – (◠_◠) thank you though A.
A great mission. I’ll have to try it myself. Though today the only wrestling I’m going to be doing is with fabric and a pattern I have to alter, just so my daughter can dress up for a pop-culture expo. Why me? I thought I was the cool mum! Oh, that’s why, none of the other mothers would bother. Hah! Better go pin, cut, sew….
You said “mum” – are you Canadian Michelle?? Be kind to the fabric (◠‿◠) Godspeed in your sewing – and God bless you.
No, not Canadian, Australian! =D
I have a few Australian readers – the “mum” was a dead giveaway (◠‿◠)
Go Australia!!!!!!!!
I’m not surprised. We Aussies recognise integrity, honesty and truth! (We can smell bull a mile away).
Craig, those who write poetry like “Love is the Lamb of God” are poets.
Admit it or not, that’s what you are. Like David, you write with feeling, depth, spirit, and skill … and in fact you are a man after His own heart.
And the fluffy little lamb and now stolen mine:)
But why do poems hate me so much – why do they make me work so hard for just a line – or a word – prose is much more forgiving – prose hearts me – poetry. hates. me. (◠_◠) – If you tell me why I promise to stop complaining about poetry – (probably).
God bless you Debra
Catching up, so haven’t read your poem yet, but I will. And I will love it and tell you so over there!
Thank you for this mission of this post, to not pass on what is done to us. I really appreciate that lesson! God bless you as you write for Him, dishonor free!
That’s brilliant Deb – you should write a poem about that – Do unto others as we would have done unto us – but don’t do unto others just because others have done unto us – I’m poem-ed out for a while (◠_◠). God bless you Deb.
My daughter would deserve a pretty adorable bow like that. She is always good in church and about to receive her first Holy Communion.
I remember my first Holy Communion Caitlin, my mom was a wonderful woman – but at the time she was not a woman of faith – I’m really glad your daughter has a mama who is a woman of faith. And if I had that bow, I’d send it. Thank you very much, and God bless and keep you and yours.