Truly, a Good Friday

Last night I attended a Good Friday service. Often when I go to a special service or a holiday service at a Church I'm expecting something... Usually you look for a guest speaker, a narrative set, a skit, a adament speaker, props, amazing (special) worship music (all modern and dressed out). Most churches try to put on their (humanities) best to capture the attention of the world.
Last night I came into this Good Friday service with certian expectations only to have them smashed and shattered into tiny little pieces. I love it. Lately, I've been disappointed with the overall of the church trying to keep up with the rest of the world. This whole concept of being relevant, well because "An unconditional God isn't relevant enough." I loved it. I feel like too much of the church is built up with humanities expectations for how to be enticing to people that we limit the relationship of God... I can't feel God when I'm at church or being the church.... because I'm expecting this experience. I'm out to eat and want to be entertained. I'm only there for an experience. I'm really getting tired of church trying to feed me an experience. I want to relate, fellowship, commune, and grow... I want to live. Last night I went to a Good Friday service that didn't meet my expectations and I absolutely loved it.
I sat down and was greeted with scripture... just scripture. Certain members of the congregation got up and they read the story. Some extra scripture was read outside of the Gospels... but I actually had to listen to connect it... it wasn't forcefeed with some gripping analogy relating it to facebook or how Jesus is like a cellphone. It was the Good News and nothing less and nothing more. At first I wasn't sure what to think about it. There was not too many people even there... probably because it didn't meet standards. But what are standards to someone who has been saved... "Is grace not enough that we can not just sit in church and take in scripture alone?" Then I opened up to it... I dropped my stupid expectations and just listened to the story of someone who died for me. My sins. We sang some hymns, and yes, with an organ. A total turnoff to some... I dropped my stupid guard and listened to what I was singing and I allowed myself to give into God's expectations.I loved it. A great service and just what I was lookiing for.
"Man's expectations only try to limit God. God's expectations will free humanity of their inabilities."
God's expectations require more than just being relevant, modern, and looking like the world... scripture is just scripture.... It's funny cause when people have read a book they criticise the mess out of movie... and  yet we make the church look like this huge motion picture cause we are afraid the book isn't enough...

The Preacher and His Trophy Wife

You… you’ve blossomed. Knowledgeable.  You say that you don’t talk eloquent in front of new believers/unbelievers. Careful in craft. You’re unbelievable. So exquisite. A new taste. God’s gift to mankind. I’m glad I got to meet you, you rare find. Churched, perched, preacher. Hey you, are you so comfortable that you’re the only one digging deeper. Full of hope. So dope. Thank God you came. The talent of every other follower you place – deface, criticize, prophesy , reprimand. Cause you’re legacy is bigger, higher, straight from… oh wait, you are GOD’S HANDS.

The pride of every man. Asserted, converted. You had a rough past too, yet you think you got life down better. You’re unique, a beautifully flawed treasure. It’s funny cause I thought humility was to make a man humble, not to make many stumble… and the ideology has been crumbled. Tunnel vision…Dimly lit You think you are so better fit for the lime light.

You run the race. Set pace. Dust flying all over thy face. You’re so good at dusting, to your own path you stay trusting. You, stupid, unconscious… perfection. But dude, you say your so dirty, Oh, so unworthy. I see you and think of Pharisees... misplaced, wordy, verbeeeeee.

I like your actions. With each one you gain so much interaction. Rather satisfaction. List of achievements so tall, your humility yet to be seen. Joyous. Triumphant. Sound the horns. I’ve think there’s more humility in a man looking at cheap porn behind closed doors. But please, do not think of me, that I’m trying to even the score. Sin is sin. Nothing less. Nothing more.

Message. Yeah, we do need to conceive truth. You are the voice who has the real choice. You talents and skills. So high above me. So high. When you listen to speakers speak and preachers preach you sigh. Righteousness. There are hard working men battling and raging, being worn thin and you think you have it better than them. There are servants of men and you think you have more talent buried in.

Stop proclaiming what you do. Stop posting about your truths. The right and left hand should not know what the others do. Young gun. Bible bearing piety. I eye thee. You’re so unaware you get so many blank stares as you put that “please like my comment or post underneath my fames” status up there. Many a man will pat you on the back. Good vibes you might rack. But God’s judgment on His leaders you will have stacked. God’s glory is not your trophy wife. It's ageless, holy, and sacred. We are dying, fickle, and unwise.

All of this. God detests. He detests this.

God is Relevant alone

 you've labeled irrelevant, confined, told that you are not needed. Faith has declined. The church has, by stupid standards, climbed. We stand on our own steeple... we above the world and it's people. We create fake art and are falling apart. Critics, slandering our pages, but we consider ourselves washed with blood, that we can play in the mud. We try to leave a mark, but we just make mud bubbles, a little thud. My God, is your message not relevant enough for this generation? Is your message not enough to create a salvation senesation? ARe you not relevant? Biblical scholars call you ageless, timeless, omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent, all powerfull, and UNCHANGING... If you are as you were.... then why do we fill the need to lable you as artificial, that we must paint you with reiteration. Add the substance take a new course... as if salvation wasn't relevant enough...Why must we take another human beings creation labled "secular" and then change it's message with a gospel dressing and ask for God's blessings? Why must we steal art and tear it's first meaning apart to become relevant? isn't God the point? But we don't know where to start? Cold art, reiteration, carve out of thick slabs of stone... but we don't stand on you alone... WE JUST CARVE OUT THE BRIME... But I was callous hands this time. I want to toil in the being God made me... If I am Christian then what I make should it only be sacrificial to the ONe? I alone am to say that name when the branding has already been done? So why steal art in the name of fun as if God should be shuned? Have we forsaken something? Do we mirror a mear image that we are incapable of casting an establishing kingdom's vision... that the WOrd be the WORD and stand alone... I mean I'm all for opening the door and using what the world has created... not to be a gated community or anything... But I'm frustrated thinking that this idea of taking other people's art and putting our "own" twist on it makes us relevant, truth, a light, some safe haven plight... I'm not about casting a safe atmosphere but casting out... sending a vision... is that not what the gospel is about? What is unnecessary, tressapassing on the toes of those we are called to save? We make ignorant pleas so that men would believe but should we criticize what we concieve and be willing to negate what we have programed behind our crippled, thick, overbearing walls? To be left into speach alone that every knee shall bow before this throne. I'm confused... utterly confused. I don't call what our hopes are at being relevant, modern era culture a replica of who made this temple a home... I won't do it. ANd maybe I'm thinking too critical... But I'd rather think too critical then to tie my hands to the world view of being relevant towards using the critically acclaimed. I'm sorry relevant church... but when it comes to you or the world... to both I'd rather be viewed in shame

REVAMPED FINAL: MY GOD THE CONQUEROR

MY GOD THE CONQUEROR!!! Give me sword and shield!!! Lend me your strength to vanquish my enemies and foes!!! Put them down… six feet beneath my toes!!! LISTEN TO MY BARBARIC POETRY AND PROSE… HAHAHAHAHA….ha

Kinda sounds dumb doesn’t it… Then why do we feel like this is the main type of love the Father has to show? Leaders of tomorrow… we are “way with words” prodigal. Screaming behind the curtains our majestic processions “we are the blind leading the blind!” Prayer, fast acting. Watch hard life retracting. In these prayers “Confide.” If we pray hard enough I’m certain this awkwardness, my laziness, and death will subside. I promise.

It’s like we try to PUNCH OUT brail into wind sails. A secret encoding of tall tails, colliding into our journey… fail. We damage our journeys sail with a message tarnished like a storm torn into. I feel better when I can just tell God when to pull me through.  

Stand still… hope. In my prayers I’m all about a narrow minded scope… ya dig? I’m fickle in my approach like an unproducing fig. Cause when times get near and tough I get pretty distraught and I’ve had enough.

I like to pull out my fair dosage of truth, and passion… that anxiety has left me not to ration. It’s funny cause um… cause when stress comes into motion it’s like I try to put true prayer into motion. And then afterwards I stop taking passes of true being that for those few moments of trial I thought I was seeking.

I take peeks and second glances, past this.  MY GOD CONQUEROR… Yeah, I like to feel good. Some sales pitch I got from my boyhood. It stood shrouded in a fine mist and I couldn’t resist. Who wouldn’t want open access to a God who died to serve this?

Genie in a bottle… I think next time when I pull you out I’ll go full throttle… I’m only in idle when I don’t need anything. But when I get banged I openly call on you the mighty, but otherwise take the back seat behind me. You’re truth, as some might say, has been stretched really hard to even appear in the slightest to be THE selling card. So please, until I call stand clear.

There a certain variables I define life with… living that is and it’s these; happiness, satisfaction, guaranteed. And I think your high standard is decreed for those that feed off the filth of society. They just kinda struggle as I eye thee. I find their practices weak at best, and don’t put my theory to the test cause unless I struggle I’m not praying to THAT GOD. I worship GOD THE CONQUEROR.

Carta Vedetta

CARTA VENDETTA

12/1/10

I invite to a visitation in which kill off the ideals

Of each generation

Extermination

Young ones

Old ones

Middle ones

Weak ones

Bold ones

Molded ones

You think it matters

That you climbed ladders

Teetering

Tottering

Are your systems

And proclamations

To go forth in a dark world

Your plan has no light

You’ve labeled as not bright

So here I am

Putting cognition

To adequate suspicion

Let me rub some dirt

On top of the dirt in your eyes

I tell you clearly

You aim so high

For yourself

But when have you ever seen the skies

You thinking looking at stats

Make excellent facts

In front suites and ties

I tell you

I despise

Despise that you get better recognized for these things

Corporate media

Blunders that whimper victory

They play the death song

On the fourth and fifth

The symphony

You’re weak

And I to you I hold no sympathy

No I’m not a Communist

Or a politician

I’m not a terrorist

Don’t you dare raise your finger in suspicion?

Where is your vision?

X Generation

A new millennia

Look at what you’ve accomplished

You’ve feasted on plates of stocks

And credit cards

New systems of exchange

New wars

Faster cars and plans

Producing tight wads

With their pants so full

The guys in suites

Have become pocket pickers

Of old dying couples

And little widows

Looking out their windows

Wishing their loved ones

Would just come back home

And we said

Well done

You protagonists

You mountain climbers

You of the passing age

You’ve branded your insignia on a new page

Well done

And then next generation comes

And says

We can fix everything

Make it work

Put a new look on it

We’re tired of their system

They had no vision

No understanding

Proper health

Takes proper planning

But when does health sit on a pedestal

Get off your soap box

You’re making yourselves into fouls

Do you not see it?

Pride, lust, greed, anger

You’re all in danger

Of making the same mistake

It isn’t in for corporate sake

There’s enough good people

But all good people have gods

The incest

Broken gods

That robed so many joyful years

For the sad people

When do we mend hearts?

When in these sequences do we decide to part?

With the old ways

 In make new days

That shine brighter than before

This our vendetta

Our love to share and pour

You and Me... We Could Both Exist

Don't judge or preoccupy yourselves with people who are different or overly expressive or genuine. Don't mock or bash them just because they are easier to diagnose as insane. Your mask is your cage. Just try to get at their level of living and maybe you too can live a little. It's not okay to not like what God gave you. I personally like this gift. there's no reason to bash or be too rash about who other's are. God made, gave them. Accepts them. Don't consider another to ever be less when the creator made them equally blessed. It's not that you are living more or that you fall in line with anything. You think you are, you've just created a barrier between you and the masses. You make masks that if you looked in the mirrors you would scare yourselves. Take passes at existing. Put on some glasses and see clearly. If you know God then fear Thee. He knows. We put on crowns of premature adolescence. Often at best. Don't try to even contest this. Just please, best this. Someone hurts when they see, because through the lesser, you've labeled believe. The awkward masses take passes by slanderers and mouthing dictators running the classes. Put on some glasses. You blinded fouls. You think you're colossal. God's Son came and died, and made your high society a fossil. Show genuine, generously... or at least don't bash those who openly feed off of true living and giving. Break down your sinful boundaries. Wash off your marks. Your fakeness is worth nothing more than a drunkard's art. Pitiful. If you had something better I think it would look more like open hearted, that's where God started. I mean, He created imperfected you didn't He... or did you make yourself explicitly, imperfectly. Don't try to repaint thee, repaint what I'm sayin. I'm not strayin from ideology or theology. I'm just stating don't judge those who are openly living. Just accept that God made them with beautiful love. At least they are true to what they do. NO!!!! DON'T AT LEAST!!! DON'T EVEN SAY THOSE TWO WORDS!!! THEY JUST AS MUCH HURT!!! YOU"RE STILL LOOKING AT REAL PEOPLE AS THOUGH THEY ARE DIRT!!! That's cheap at best. Put your false ideals to rest. Your true form has crumbled. You shed yourself off every single time cause your afraid to put the fake you on the line, though when the real you is worth more than a dime. Let's change for the better. I think that it's time. Time to shine. Did not Christ put his life on the line such as this. Genuine bliss. Judas might have betrayed him with a kiss. But your words cut Christ apart when you insist. One body should, through imperfections persist.

THe Eden Estate

My God formed this… vast, expanse. Many a man looked up at night… stuck in a trance.  He is bigger than me and you, and showers us with grace through and through. My God… He created the world. Heaven and Earth… Momentary birth created by the breathing from ONE. From the smallest creatures, to the giant stars. And God said “This, This is good.”

And God created humans. He created man. He breathed life into man and formed him from the ground with His own hands. The master craftsman ran through his hands, beautiful plan. And He said “This, This too is good.” And He said, It’s not good for man to be alone.” Ribs like clay, the forming of woman from the body of man. Two God made, His likeness. Two innocent and shameless creatures in the garden. Blameless without sin to pardon.  And they walked and talked with the God almighty. The NAME.

Needing nothing… but wanting something. In their own choosing, obedience was losing they took a bite of the tree they couldn’t eat from freely. Felt shame, discomfort… the bitter distaste of sour disgrace. They, themselves were to blame. God came. Asked what they did. Fanned sins flame. Lied to their creator. God banished them from the garden, but promised a savior. Years later God sent His Son.

 In the fullness of time my God sent His is Son. In the fullness of time Christ put it all on the line. Died on a tree. An undeserving rescue. Filled disgrace and gave worth having been displaced. Do you see a eternal words peeping?  If to eternity your walk will be keeping? Watching… watching

But recognize dear child of mine. We’ve done this before. Our garden for us was no more. Our ship capsized. Our blemishes quickly recognized. If you are going to turn… If backs shall break and souls turn may they turn to the name of the one who saves. May they turn to the one who gave redemption. We were not made to conquer our own object of affection or be more than what we were in that garden.  

The fruit spoils truth. Makes a façade. As the Father breaks the rod, so our obedience unravels the dirt and all the hurt. If you reach to obtain, you will be tamed. If you reach to gain… you will be broken, smashed, sent spiraling… you can’t soar from plans. From such hands. THOSE PLANS! THEY ADORE! Broken, lying to yourself. Begging once again. Seek me out… ONCE MORE…