GarThoma

Contemplative Pentecostal

In The Sphere of Love (prayer of the mystic)

The sphere of your love
Is an ancient orb that flows
Down the shaft of my soul

Penetrating all those painful
Memories, covering them in
healing balm, washing away all sin

In cleansing blood. Reorienting
Me toward the Spirit
Remaking me into my origin.

My crooked soul, now upright
Lifted by the strength of your love.
The child inside is healed

Loved
Accepted
Embraced.

The flame almost snuffed out
Once again kindled in this heat.
Burning passion almost dissolved

By the world, renewed in this sphere.

Shape me, my Lord, into your image.
Make me, my Lord, the servant you intend.
Take me, my Friend, into the space

Of your Kingdom, and show me things
My eyes have never seen.

Your heart is large enough for all
May we find ourselves there,
Together for all eternity.

Calling

I am inflamed in your resurrection,
embraced by the light of your glory.

I am empowered by your Spirit
to live out the new creation life

You are enthroned on high far above principality and power
pouring out your merciful love on all humankind.

I am engulfed by this calling to share the good news

to the lost,
The hurting,
the poor.

Icon

I am a breath and a prayer;
Oil smeared into dust and dirt,

Painted on wood
In tempera and gold leaf

Leaving footprints on the earth;
Impressions in the universe

To echo throughout days

Eternal

The God Who Thirsts

That day I stood in my place among the crowd;
I say I stood, prob’ly should have bowed.

Thrust up into the hot desert sky;
Fastened to the cross, condemned to die.

His arms outstretched to embrace the world,
Seven words He spoke as the hours unfurled.

When the sky darkened; the day grew dim.
I remained nearby, eyes fixed upon Him.

His life was lived offering himself
Taken for granted now placed on a shelf

Mercy, healing, love; his only crime.
Incarnated hope, hated and wounded by time

Last night in the garden longing mingled with tears.
Such love He gave to His friends these three years.

Cracked open and empty; He poured himself out
Lifting up His head exuded a shout.

Two words came from lips split and burst
I couldn’t believe it when I heard Him say, “I thirst.”

It was then I felt my heart in my chest
Let go the tears I had long suppressed;

How can this be, I wondered aloud
He who offered living water to the temple crowd;

How can this be-say it isn’t true
The one pouring out his life asking something from me and from you

What does He desire; what does this express,
Save that His love has already dealt with the rest?

This is our God who became a curse
Who comes to you tonight and says,
“My child, I thirst.”

A Holy Week Prayer

Oh Lord,
Help me ponder the mystery of your love for me.
Let me not escape into the comforts and consolations of this world,
Of family and friends;
Of amusements and games;
Of various forms of medications that keep me from feeling pain.
Help me remain with you as you enter your Passion;
Enable me to watch and pray.
Oh Lord, forgive me for all the ways I continue to seek comforts that anesthesize me from entering with you into your Passion;
For the many ways I escape into temporary consolation.
I desire to know what you endured in order to show ultimate love for me.
How can I do this when I am so addicted to the numbing medicine
Of worldly vindication;
Of fleshly validation?
Oh Christ my Lord, it was for the joy set before you that you endured the cross.
That joy must have come from your obedience to the Father;
From purchasing my life back from the prince of this world!
Oh Lord, let me find my joy in you;
In your love for me!
Amen

Your Silence

Jesus was silent before Pilot.
I imagine His silence by using my senses.

Your silence looks like the ashen March sky.
It is the sound of the morning mist received into the soft earth.
It is the fog the surrounds me and touches my body.
It smells like damp dirt after a warm rain
And tastes like green tea.

The Names I Call You

Your name is the handle
Attached to the luggage
That carries my existence:

I call you Rock and
You weigh me down.

I call you Faith
And, suddenly, I cannot see;
You drag me through the darkness.

I call you Joy
And a smile appears on my lips.

I call you Chaos
And your Spirit broods over
My dark abyss.

I call you Lost
And you draw me a map through the wilderness.

I call you my Heart
And I abide in You;
I find rest there.

I call you Light
And I am blinded.

I call you Strength
And I am engaged in a wrestling match
Until I am crippled.

I call you Vision
And my eyes weep a river
Winding into the unknown.

I call you King
I am subjected,
I bow before you.

I call you Confessor
And I am forgiven.

I call you Savior
And blood splashes on my face.

Weightless

An expression of Your kingdom,
My life sent as sound from heaven;
Vibrates throughout the earth.

Daily bread is my sustenance,
The wine flows throughout my soul
Scrubbing my spirit against Your Spirit

Removing encumberance,
Enabling pilgrimage;

Reconciling my life on earth
With the one I live in heaven
Requires weightlessness.

The Way of the Cross: A Poem

Every now and then I try to challenge myself with a rhyming poem.
Here is a poetic reflection I wrote after meditating on Christ’s journey to the cross.

In fear and dread
You walked ahead

To face the executioner’s song

You sang your own
With nail and bone

To show hate that love belongs.

The earth opened wide
Received blood from your side

Produced the fruit of a new-born soul.

Your body wracked with pain
Never to sacrifice again

The bells of life will forever toll.

I Have A Hard Heart: A Prayer of Confession and Repentance

Oh God, there is a hardness in my heart
That would dissolve under a single touch from your hand.

There is a resistance I have allowed to be constructed in my soul;
it keeps me from truly entering your presence.

Lord, I confess,
I have allowed my heart to grow hard.
I have begun to focus too much on the natural,
letting the supernatural fall by the wayside.

Stir up the flame in my heart Holy Spirit; the flame that burns away accumulated things
stacked up inside there.

Soften my heart; make it pliable to the subtle movements of your Spirit.

O’ that you would tear down the resistance assembled by all my intellectual pursuits,
Because of these I have lost sight of your tenderness.

Like the disciples I’ve forgot that you multiplied the fish and loaves.
Memory has been washed away by the gravel of reason.

Oh God,
restore my heart;
renew my heart.

… so that I can once again feel your presence;
return to the grace of tears;

Let me to enter a relationship that breaks down all the inner resistance
and softens this

hard
heart
of mine.

Amen

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 803 other followers