Corinthians Remix

A Musing From Corinthians…

If I can speak the eloquence of the ages

In tongues of angelic sound

But cannot hear the forlorn cry of the lonely heart

Desperate for a Word balm of kindness-

I am the worst noise of empty clash and gong

Tin, ear -ringing, cold, ego -pride fluster- in brass.

 If I can see the pathways of the depths of man

And hold the balance to the weight of every thought and intent

With calculating accuracy reduce actions to a set of predictable

Formulaic rhythms and reasons-

Bringing mountains to molehills-

But I cannot see hunger in front of me,

Withholding all crumbs from my table of insight,

As precious morsels from an enlightened existence-

I alone am the most pitiable, weak, and impoverished of souls.

 If I leave the world of men

To live upon the heights of ascent,

Deliver myself a sacrifice for the causes of greatest good

But do not live with my heart pierced by the wounds

Of the afflictions of those of earth-

And bear their life in my open, upraised hands-

To hold in love,

To receive in love,

 To give in love….

My own soul fire is but a dim flickering wick

 that profits the world-

Nothing.

© Christina Dammerman 2012

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blind Sunflowers

In reading a poem from one of my favorite authors Amy Carmichael, a line rang from the page with imagery for our time in the Son. 

“Flood me with hope today for souls perverse, undone, for sinful souls that turn away, blind sunflowers from their sun”.

Blind Sunflowers. In nature this is impossible. The root being and core design of the sunflower is to follow the gaze of the sun across the hours of the day, bending it’s head in prayer at the drawing in of the day.  Yet is it possible for the image bearers to so deny the essence of our creation, the knowledge of the Holy in our souls that like the sunflower in Carmichael’s poem, we turn away from the warmth and light of life by whom we have been granted motion, bios, breathe, and being.   Can we force ourselves to be blind to the movements of The Spirit and stand rigid in our days darkened, and dance-less, and unaware of the festival of the living rhythm of The Son?  Oh Maker, open the eyes of our heart, that those who want, may see. That those who thirst may drink. That those who hear may know.

Hope Through Me

by:  Amy Carmichael

“Hope through me, God of Hope,

Or never can I know

Deep wells and living streams of hope,

And pools of overflow.

Flood me with hope today

Four souls perverse, undone,

For sinful souls that turn away,

Blind sunflowers, from their Sun.

O blessed Hope of God,

Flow through me patiently,

Until I hope for everyone

As Thou hast hoped for me. “