pour the waves (by Rebecca Chasteen) Monday, Oct 12 2009 

Some days,
the music just has to be loud
loud enough
to drive out all temptation to believe in lies
to drive out the numb that doesn’t try

The music just has to be moving enough
to keep me moving
has to remind me of
everything that matters
everything that moves
there is never
nothing
I can do

I can do
something with this
even if it’s
just feel it
even if it’s
just be here

be here
and don’t leave
don’t obliterate myself
on rocky shores
don’t release my grasp
don’t follow their lead
this is what there is to believe-
this is all there is
and this is all that matters

some days
the music just has to be loud
loud enough
to remind me

I just have to be needy enough
to pull it in
anxious
angry
enough
to demand more

pour the waves
pour the waves
pour the waves

my skin is bare
my throat is dry
my stomach waits
my heart aches

pour the waves
pour the waves
pour the waves

I hope this counts (by Rebecca Chasteen) Saturday, Oct 10 2009 

I want to apologize
every time he touches me
because I’m so sorry
it’s not you.

You know I tried,
right?

Or doesn’t it count-
so long ago?
Or doesn’t it matter
at all?

I hold tight to hope
while shadows push their way
as far as they can go,
take everything they can…

They can’t
take this-
this part that’s been waiting.

You know
I always wanted YOU-
right?

Pilgrim Heart (by Rebecca Chasteen) Thursday, Aug 20 2009 

I’ve got a pilgrim heart
it gravitates
to caverns
and mountains.

Move
spirit
move.

I seek You
in every place
I ever go,
In every face.

Faith and love and light and rest
coincide with
darkness and
dirty hands.

Deliver,
design,
guide,

my heart’s travels.

Keep me close
and in the perils,
substantiate
every thing.

I dive in
to lakes
and graves
seeking every permutation
of beauty,
every version
of love and faith.

You are every where,
I am set on
finding You there.

Debtor (by Rebecca Chasteen) Sunday, May 24 2009 

(1/31 to 5/25 2001)

O My God,
You overwhelm me.
This is more that I’ll ever deserve.
What a heavenly gift!
I could never earn such joy.

You are consistently
the sunlight that
warms and fills me
after savage storms destroy me
and leave me
ransacked,
cold
and incomplete.

I’ve allowed so many
clouds
to devour
your complete essence;
I began to believe in darkness
as reality.
Then there is no happiness,
there is no free-
only chains of pain and yesterdays,
bad dreams and restlessness that won’t go away.

But the darkness lies.
And it’s hidden the truth from these bloodshot eyes.

I’ve come to understand this:
You are my only peace,
true motivation,
chance at beauty,
and inspiration.

And even as I flounder and fall,
vainly cry out and call,
run everywhere but home,
and wonder why I’m so alone,
You never move from me.

Even as I move from myself,
even after I’ve ignored You,
You never refuse to help.

I’m constantly
rediscovering
Your Divinity.
And I’ll gladly be
forever
a debtor.
For I’m full to the top,
And my cup runneth over.

“You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.” Psalm 23:5

This is probably my favorite of the older poems from this time period. It was the completion of a section of a journey; it was the mountain I’d been climbing for so long with so many tears and words and months.

The beginning stanza always makes me uncomfortable, it’s so unabashedly praise-full. It’s no small feat to be in that place. I’m not really a “Praise Jesus!” with her hands in the hair kind of girl. That’s just not my style. But there are times that I am a face toward the sky, palms facing up or resting on my heart, silent tears down my face kind of “O My God” and that’s what this is.

This is resting at the top of that mountain, love and peace and purpose shaking my soul. This is the understanding of “us”, God and me. The love, the relationship. God is still the “sunlight that warms and fills me after savage storms destroy me”. God is still my freedom. God is still my beauty, motivation, inspiration. God is still my perfect parent- covering me, understanding me, guiding, waiting, pulling, forgiving. I say nothing of love here specifically, but this is love: grace, warmth, presence, patience, light; arms that never close. That is my God, as God has always been, and always will be.

It is this love, the acceptance of this love that changes people. Nothing will change you like accepting this kind of love. From there, anything is truly possible. Full to the top with this kind of thing makes a person brave with belief. Makes a person willing to take part in daily miracles because they can now see how many opportunities there are.

And the misconception here, the reason I think so many times we aren’t accepting this love, is because we feel we can’t earn it. But the reason we can’t earn it is not because we don’t deserve it, it’s because it’s not up for the earning. It is there, always, from the beginning. It is there for the taking, as soon as we allow ourselves to take it. The idea that we are not worthy is not of love. It’s not of God. Nothing about God supports that line of thinking. Don’t believe that. Don’t believe anyone, any thing that makes you think you need to be anything other than what you are to have love. Those are lies. And we all know the master of lies. Don’t buy his crap. He’ll sell you anything that will keep you down. Satan is a loser. His darkness is an already defeated lie. Don’t waste time on it. Just take love. Open, free, encompassing, love. Take it. Break and break and break until there’s room for it. And keep breaking if you have to. I know I do.

Everything else will come. Just take love.

Of Dispirited Disposition (by Rebecca Chasteen) Sunday, May 24 2009 

(1-21-01)

I fall so much you’d think I’m blind.
I let this world keep polluting my mind.
I can’t stand.
I fall constantly.
And I seem to be
in my own way more than anything else.
I hold back myself
with all my contradicting desires.

My drive is feeble.
It barely moves me.
I feel so unable.
I can’t seem to be
anything I dream-

Only what I despise;
self-absorbed and insecure.
I’ve forgotten what matters.
I don’t know myself anymore.
I can’t find anything worth fighting for.

What once moved me
has moved from me.
I’m clinging to the past.
I’m striving for what I once had.

I gave up on myself too quickly.
Who will have faith in me
if I have no faith in myself?
And if I can’t love me
how can I love anyone else?

How can I strive to save others
when I’m sinking
into nothingness?

Aimless desperation
clouds desire and expectation.

I want to be
so much more than what I am.
I need truth, motivation, and beauty.
Lord, I need your hand.

“Come to me all ye who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” Matthews 11:28

I’ve always loved the first line of this one. It kind of makes me laugh, it flows, it’s exactly how it feels sometimes…The part ” If I can’t love me, how can I love anyone else? How can I save others when I’m sinking into nothingness?” is what stands out here to me, because it’s still something I have to work on, particularly in my line of work.  I have to have love for myself, within myself, before I can dole that out to anyone at all. I have to have hope, I have to believe, I have to, or not only will my life suck, but I will be fairly useless in helping anyone else do anything positive with their life. Not that I can’t be sad or feel afraid, but that I have to stay away from that dangerous spiral down from which it is so hard to see any light at all.  It’s nice to have that push though, that it’s not just about me, it’s about the people around me too (professionally or personally).

Confessions for Change (by Rebecca Chasteen) Sunday, May 24 2009 

(7/29/00)

I rarely give God the time he deserves.
And this week,
as I spent hours a day with Him,
I realized
that I’ve been
running in spiritual circles
for way too long.

I’ve been trying and trying
to do things all by myself.
Acting like I’m strong enough to do it alone,
refusing to ask for help.

And I’ve been angry ’cause no one is changing,
when I can’t even change myself.

My lack of self control
has squelched so much of my potential.
And despite the faith I claim,
fear washes over me like rain.

I’ve seen how the pride
that I’ve used to hide
all my insecurities with
is just another net that’s got me tangled.

I lie to myself more than I do to anyone else,
living in denial of the reality three-fourths of the time.
Trying to pretend that I’m better than I am,
and ignoring situations that I don’t want to deal with.

And the brokenness
that I try so hard to have healed
is a spiritual gift
I’ve been blessed with.

Acknowledging the truth is so hard,
and changing is even harder.

I hate being out of control,
it makes me feel weak,
but when I’m following Christ,
there’s no way else to be.

There is no royal road to anything, but all things in succession.
So I’m gonna drop my nets,
take slow, careful steps
and follow without asking questions.

This was written at camp, following a sermon about dropping our nets, as Jesus asked the disciples to do when they followed him. They dropped their livelihood (fishing) and walked with him. It’s amazing how in 9 years, some of that poem (and sermon) still rings so true for me. The part that strikes me is “And the brokenness I try so hard to have healed is a spiritual gift I’ve been blessed with.” I struggle with that still. I know broken is open and open is where I want to be, but I really do break, so often, not just for me, for others, for everything. Sometimes I cry for the whole entire world, all the sadness and anger and hurt and fear and injustice. Sometimes I just break for my own life. But I know I am better broken, I feel more alive broken than I do when I’m walking around patched up. That’s just not who I am. I am broken, willingly open this way, to all the things that will come through, and all the things that will do to me, and all the things I will do because of this. I am who I am because I’m broken open.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” Psalm 51:77

Communion (some people call it prayer) by Rebecca Chasteen Saturday, May 9 2009 

For today’s prompt, I want you to write a poem about either a specific routine or routines in general.

Communion (some people call it prayer)

This is the routine:

head to knees
then
head in hands

heart like sand
through my fingers,
to your feet

it is only you and me
I am letting go
of all the things I keep holding on

of all the thoughts
I know I need
the ones you can offer me

some kind of
transcendent peace
some kind of supernatural free

something that takes me
from broken, to open, to okay
to the rest of the day

This
is the
routine.

http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2009/04/08/AprilPADChallengeDay8.aspx

Wish List (by Rebecca Chasteen) Thursday, Apr 16 2009 

I really just want a witness
Flesh and blood
Every time
All the time
But a witness that doesn’t interrupt, interfere

A witness…

And a worshiper,

I want one of those too
Again, of flesh and blood
All the time
To understand, praise, cherish my body and thoughts and words and heart

That’s all I want

Psalm (by Rebecca Chasteen) Monday, Mar 16 2009 

Please help me keep perspective.
Be my protector, and my stronghold.
My center, my buoy.
Grant me clarity and wisdom.
Set right my compass.

Propel me through the uncharted waters,
through the depths of my uncertainties.
And wrap me in comfort;
may it soak through my pores.
Send peace through my veins,
coursing through every living part of me,
until the peace is all I believe.

Expel the fog
the fears
so the clutch is loosened,
the chokehold, freed
so I am breathing again
so I am a version
more capable
so I am
able to vessel
the light
that You are
gleaming through
the
cracks
of this
jar.

Prayer of the prayerful (by Rebecca Chasteen) Saturday, Mar 7 2009 

Waters rush
only here, only us

Love echoes, crashes,
holy,
boldly,
insists on absolute
sanctuary.

Seek it,
peace seeker;
authentic, active, honest, intrusive, desire.

Push away
partitions,
pull prayer,
create the nirvana
sincere as our humble roar of passion allows.

Knowing the presence,
say it:
the power-
everything the soul calls us.

Wash image
on love,
pray:
give
intensive sacred guidance.

God, grant me a chamber.

God, everything changes.

God
is as near
as we
allow.