When Life Gets Hard, Get on Your Knees.

I think this is the first post of November, which is really awful. University work has come back with a vengeance, but I’m grateful that God has really helped me reach my personal word-count goals. He’s really been giving me the strength to get things done.

In addition, there has been a lot of problems at home recently. It’s nothing that I can go into detail about, but I’ve felt drained and frustrated and hurt and confused and angry all at once and in quick succession. Every now and then the world reminds me how powerless  I am against the grand scheme of things and God shows me that I can do nothing on my own. A couple weeks ago I got into probably the most bizarre and pointless argument of my life: it had no meaning; it was ignited by a ludicrous stimulus and both of our arguments were incoherent. Halfway through the argument I gave up and began mocking and trivialising the thing, which didn’t help, but I only did this because for the first time, a Bible text that is quoted so often on the pulpit actually had practical relevance to me. My eyes were opened as I saw the strange movements of dark forces before my eyes.

And to top it all off, I walked into church and they were discussing the very same text for Sabbath School. It was comforting.

Here it is…

11 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.

Ephesians 6:11-13

I know now that I can do nothing. And I’m glad I know this, because it has made me pray more and surrender to God in a way I hadn’t before. I’ve been praying for my family more than I ever have and it makes me feel good.

God’s got it in control.

 

Reins

You had me
on my hands and knees.
I crawled like an animal on the ground
the dirt carved rancid contours in my skin
which helped to map the journey
of the sins
that I held dear;
How far these acts had brought me
and how near to death I am.

I felt a scorching sun between my legs
which pulsed with each throbbing movement;
sent daggers of pain along my spine
every time I remembered.
The blood that runs from me
like a leaking tap
or angered menstruation
only causes others to see
that I allowed you to use me.

A noose to cut into my neck
and a red handkerchief to gag me
a cloth plastered to my eyes
so I lose sight of any Light:
all my hope is gone
and I’m bound to you entirely

There are things that I love doing
and some activities refuse to be abandoned:
those websites that I sought out
and watched with morbid fascination
until they were all I thought about during the day
and rushed home to spectate again;
those novels that told me I was invincible
and excited me for other things;
those people I loved to talk to
about affairs that didn’t concern me;
those men I went home with
so they could fill me, yet I still left feeling empty;
those times I ignored the Word for Worldly Things…

Now I only have your word.
How far must one have fallen,
to believe the slippery solicitations of a serial
adulterer
deceiver
and fiend?

How far must one have fallen? I asked,
as the Devil rode me like a fool
for his bidding.

 

Question

If I had been an angel at the start of time

Would I now be lying in bed

with the Devil?

 

(I was reading the first chapter of Patriarchs and Prophets a few days ago (‘entitled Why was Sin Permitted?’) and it made me think about how flaky I am. I’m stubborn with some things, but a lot of the time I’m easily swayed—it’s my nature as a people pleaser. I’ve got myself into a lot of stupid situations because I felt bad about saying ‘no’ and didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings…. I asked myself the question: would I have stood for God during the war in Heaven, or  would I have been deceived by Lucifer’s words of discontent?

It was a scary thought for me, at least. Because I couldn’t answer it.) 

Carousel

We went to the steam fair
you and I
You said:
“Let’s go on the merry-go-round”
I sat on a horse called
Chance
you sat on another:
Temptation.
We journeyed ’round the carousel
tracing the cyclical monotony of
love
whilst  The Enemy sat behind us
on Lust
and goaded us to go where we shouldn’t.

Please Remember…

…That when images of wars
and bullet-ridden bodies
appear on the news before you

…When innocent blood
is sprayed across the screen
in acts of genocides

…When the flies that feed
off the eyes of starving children
buzz rackets through your surround-sound

That God didn’t start any of it.
Remember please, to look at the One
of whom sin originates
and the poison he has created in this world of ours
to contaminate the minds
of dictators and warmongers
and presidents who can drink champagne for breakfast
whilst families hunger
on their palace steps.

 

Your Bright and Morning Star

I saw you sitting alone
under the crab apple tree
reading a book with old pages
that I once recognised.

You had a pensive expression
before your eyes fell on me
and as I had hoped,
you smiled, and approached
my calm embrace

Because I love you
and I always will–
I’ll give you anything you want
because deep down

I

want you

to be happy

as you join me

in Hell

And when I’ve got you
I won’t leave you.
You’ll be begging at my feet.
Pale. with track marks on your arms
and circles under your eyes,
you’ll be thin and gangly.

Ill.

It will all happen so quickly
that like the prodigal son,
you’ll cry for your parents
with your head down a toilet
but this ain’t a parable, sweetheart;
there is no happy end to this
story.

Because when I snatch people from church
they always end up worse than those
who never attended—
more poor, more destitute,
more rotten,
decomposing from the inside

And the stench will be with you
forever. So even if you
go back to the place you once called
home,
they will smell you and know
that you had been in my bed.

Consequences will caress your
body, a string of letters
will follow your name
as if you’re a doctor of dissolution:
the letters to mark your
promiscuity, with me
The Enemy.

Let’s not worry about that, though.
For now we’ll lock it in a jar.
I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me
The ‘S’ word
Or the ‘D’ word.
Call me
Your
Bright and Morning Star.

Sincerely Yours, Satan xXx

Walk with destruction in my wake
and a shroud of darkness for cover,
spreading death and disease
and unease and decay.
It snakes along the arms
of enemies and cracks like
ancient spiderwebs so that the rot
sinks into flesh and pollutes clean blood
until black and death push through,
oozing form their pores like
the ink of a broken quill.

Women are raped in Iraq
and Afghan girls with leashes ’round their necks
dance for old men in dusty dens
and legions of children wield guns for battle
in the Congo. They’re trained to shoot and to kill.
I’ve got women being killed by their men.
Two per week. And kids getting beaten
by their mothers, until their eyes swell like plums,
lips black like leeches and only melted chocolate can hide their pain.

Earthquakes in Haiti
Tsunamis in Asia
Hurricanes to tear towns apart
and leave inhabitants destitute and dirty—
Tornadoes spin confusion in a neighbourhood and
Kills many. ‘Till no one can recognise a thing
‘Till bodies of children are encased in rubble
and graves are overturned.

The clergy rapes its children. Pastors beat their women.
Elders wanna kill all the gays.

Your God is sick
and evil
‘Cause he runs this world of ruin.
You blame him, every day
for your lives of disarray—
and give me glory all the same.

The best thing I ever did
Was convince the world
I don’t exist.