Tag: sanctification

miss the leaves

by ekoileman, posted in poetry, writing

Does a butterfly miss being a

caterpillar?

Does a butterfly miss the cocoon?

Does a caterpillar enjoy the chrysalis, does it look forward to the bloom

of wings and air and florals?

Can the caterpillar conceive of

flight and air and breeze?

Does a caterpillar ever hunger for flowers?

Does a butterfly miss the leaves?

Does a butterfly miss all that walking,

crawling on its knees?

Trigger

by ekoileman, posted in poetry, writing

The people that degrade me

the people that I am around,

that erode my boundaries.

They do not try to, but they trigger-

me and past thoughts.
they trigger past alternatives.

they trigger past temptations and

awaken old patterns that lead to death.

the people around me that

erode my boundaries

without trying

just by talking

to have them around, erodes-

Boundaries, self, new goals

They all erode-

to the old self,

to a lesser version

of me that once was

and tries to revive.

Choices

by ekoileman, posted in poetry, writing

I struggle on helpless and alone, though I know

I am neither

you are with me in every step

holding me up

I’m believing lies

I don’t know where they’re rooted.

I don’t yet feel ready to face them,

Yet I know you want me to.

Only with you can I do it.

I’ve tasted the freedom you offer.

I long to get it back.

I must put in my own sweat to get there

you are the guide.

But you cannot take steps for me.

I must move myself forward.

I will not give up

by ekoileman, posted in poetry, writing

I have dealt with spiritual things all my life.

when they know what

buttons to push, they push them

relentlessly and hard.

When the buttons they can push are fewer,

and you are about to break free,

They push them harder

and relentlessly.

I will not give up.

I will not surrender to my flesh.

I will not give up. I am bought for a price.

I know my value, it is beyond what I can conceive.

I will not give up. I will seek

my King. I will pursue the Cross, and the price that was paid for me.

I will not give up, though I fall in the mud and slide back covered in filth.

I learn better the chains that hold me and I see better where they are attached.

I will not give up

to the process.

question about making amends

by ekoileman, posted in poetry, writing

what would making amends look like or be?

would that be, clarifying the ways

in which addiction impacted my behavior toward them?

(Even though when I disclosed addiction I did not specify that.)

It seems the making direct amends is

trying to be specific with the apology,

and knowing,

and understanding,

and articulating exactly what behaviors

were not good,

and specifying an effort to do better and in what ways improvement shows,

and specifying specific ways that the addiction impacted my behavior.

I’m trying to understand

because there’s a person I know, a coworker, and others I’ve messed around

with in a bedroom sorta way.

And so I’m trying to figure out

God put those people on my heart

to make amends with.

So I’m also trying to figure out how to address that.

Because I do think they think

I’m very much together and have everything figured out and working–

and no.

Nope,

very much NO.

School days

by ekoileman, posted in poetry, Uncategorized, writing

Do you give your children keys to the shiny new

car? No, of course not.

Do you let them play with the

powerful sword? No, of course not.

Do you give them the cards to the expense

account, for the truly expensive and valuable items? No, of course not.

You don’t give that to a five year old.

You teach them with toys.

You build their

skills and their confidence

until you know that they’re ready

for the good things.

The valuable things, the rare things, the expensive things.

I feel like that is this life.

I feel like

we are currently kindergarteners waiting and learning.

Before graduating with a PhD, before going through

more education, getting better

resources and learning how to manage

the little toys we’ve been given.

When we have the little Tonka Trucks and

practice with them really well, take care of them, to see if we can actually manage a car.

It’s not quite the same. But

sometimes I think that’s what heaven will be like.

Having shown what we can actually manage

and our awards based on what we did,

getting keys to the real car, getting

keys to the expensive and valuable and the truly fun things.

Things that you can’t trust to children who are untrained, and

even when they’re trained, they’re

not quite mature enough for it yet. For now,

we aren’t quite ready

the truly Good Things.

Separation

by ekoileman, posted in poetry, writing

I’m trying to be fed by anybody but You

I’m trying to rely on anyone but You. I’m trying–

to rely on anything for You, Jesus.

I don’t know why it feels like my sin hides me from you,

I am not my sin.

You have made me free of it.

But it still clings to me, and it separates–

it tells me it separates You and me.

But that is a lie.

Do I listen to a lie?

Or do I listen to You, my King