Reflecting on a walk of faith;
No Catcher In The Rye

A Book (of Eli) Review
Reflecting on a walk of faith

The Book of Eli pictures
(most apocalyptically)
a bombed-out world in sepia.
There’s no prosperity.

What once was very commonplace
is gone. It’s so absurd.
Clean water, food and decency
(and knowledge of God’s Word).

The last surviving Bible
had to find its way out west.
It’s not as easy as it sounds.
It proves a bloody test.

One man who lived by faith (not sight)
prompts us to do the same.
With Scripture hidden in his heart,
he has a single aim.

Eli’s committed to live out
what he has heard God say.
He’s not content to read the Word.
His passion’s to obey.

Eli (like Christ) is tempted by
a man named Carnegie.
This Satan-figure knows The Book
has power (don’t you see).

Its words inspire, motivate,
convict and magnetize.
The key (of course) is who unlocks
The Book. The fool or wise?

And in this wilderness of beige
anticipating Hell,
we see that trusting God by faith
resembles reading braille.

The walk of faith is not a dash.
It is a daily stroll.
Obeying is a lifelong trek.
It’s what defines your soul.

No Catcher in the Rye
Thoughts on J.D. Salinger’s death, our own and journaling

Young Holden Caulfield was the means
for Salinger to share his dreams
and rail against hypocrisy
in our dishonest world.

Now JD Salinger is dead,
but not the book most kids have read
about a catcher in the rye
and teenage hopes and fears.

His voice (though stilled) will yet be heard.
There’s power in the written word.
It’s bound to help extend our lives
when we are six feet down.

So, write about what you believe.
Describe the things that make you grieve.
Jot lessons you have learned in life
through failure and success.

Relate the way you met your spouse
and how you purchased your first house.
What insights on God’s faithfulness
could fuel your children’s faith?

The things you journal will live on
when they are grown and you are gone.
It’s never wrong to write it down
while you still have a chance.

Our years of playing in the rye
will soon be done and we will die.
And there’s no catcher near the cliff.
We all must face that fall.

What is missing from Haiti’s landfills?

The estimates are staggering.
We try, but can’t ignore
a tragedy that will not quit.
This hell on earth is horror.

We see those grave reminders
of the loss of human lives.
The landfills of the lifeless
we had prayed would yet survive.

Like trash within a garbage truck,
those corpses were stacked high
and driven to a local dump
where circling vultures fly.

It’s inhumane. Unthinkable.
But what else could be done?
The stench of death hung in the air
beneath the Haitian sun.

Yet while they bury bodies,
hope refuses to comply.
It can’t be ditched and left for dead.
Hope won’t give up and die.

Hope germinates within the hearts
of those who can’t escape
the fact that they are still alive
when with the dawn they wake.

Hope penetrates the sun-baked soil
of flattened lifelong dreams.
It pushes sun-ward from the earth.
It’s stronger than it seems.

Hope is the seed of faith that grows
in all those who have gone
to give the hopeless ways and means
to cope and carry on.

A prayer for the victims in Haiti;
Faith Quakes

Sleeping Where Rodents Breed
A prayer for the victims in Haiti

In Haiti millions are displaced
by that demonic quake.
Demolished and demoralized,
they hunger, thirst and ache.

We ache with these who fear the worst,
who’ve searched in vain for hope,
who question if God does exist
with little faith to cope.

This island nation beckons us
to reach down deep inside
and find the money, time and aid
to carry these deprived.

In short, dear Lord, we long to be
Your arms to those in need,
to paupers there in Port au Prince
who sleep where rodents breed.

Faith Quakes
Surviving 7.0 doubt

The death toll mounts
The body count
exceeds our greatest fear.
This dreaded quake
and anguished wakes
prompt questions. Is God here?

This tragedy
it seems to me
(much like we’ve seen before)
is hardly fair.
How could God care?
The victims are so poor!

In Port au Prince
we have a glimpse
of how a nation grieves.
Their plight of pain
means God is blamed.
Doubt mocks faith
to believe.

But nonetheless,
I will confess
I cannot understand
these “acts of God”
that seem so odd
(allowed or by command).

As body count
increases doubt
in One who claims control,
I choose to trust
(because I must)
the Shepherd of my soul.

How The Biggest Loser changed my life;
I Am But One, But I Am One

Sofa Spud No Longer
How The Biggest Loser changed my life

The Biggest Loser’s more than just
a TV show phenom.
It motivates me to get fit
whenever it is on.

It’s virtual community.
I feel for these so large.
They win my heart as they lose pounds
obeying those in charge.

The trainers, Bob and  Jillian,
insist, rebuke, demand.
A loser’s wish is not enough.
That wish is their command.

And as they heed their trainers’ bark,
the scales reveal good news.
By sweating more and eating less
contestants really lose.

It’s true, I need to drop fifteen
avoiding fast-food crud.
And “Loser” spurs me on to shed
my nickname… “sofa spud.”

Don’t think this show is just my shtick.
You, too, can benefit.
This fat-free love-fest Tuesday nights
will help you to get fit.

One-third of all Americans
are clinically obese.
So tell your too-fat friends to watch
before they are deceased. I Am But One, But I Am One
Never underestimate the difference you can make

I hear the Savior calling me to rescue the oppressed.
I choose to answer willingly for I’ve been richly blessed.
I am but one but I am one whose candle mocks the dark.
I am available to Him who owns my willing heart.

I cannot disregard abuse in brothels, fields or slums.
I will not rest until I work that justice might be done.
I am but one but I am one who feels the children’s pain.
I am available to Him who calls each one by name.

I’ll be a voice for those enslaved by power, lust and greed.
I’ll advocate for those in chains until they have been freed.
I am but one but I am one who will not be denied.
I am available to Him who with the victim sides.

* January 11, 2010 has been designated as Human Trafficking Awareness Day.

** The above poem can be sung to the Norwegian folk tune ordinarily associated with the hymn “My Soul Has Found a Resting Place.”

Contemplating a new year and a new decade:
The Real Levi Johnston Revealed

Let 2010 Begin!
Contemplating a new year and a new decade
 
The end of a decade,
(the start of one more)
gives pause to consider
what life has in store.
 
A stock market rally?
Our troops coming home?
Will death rob our parents
and leave one alone?
 
The house market rebounds?
Will GM and Ford?
Will a struggling marriage
be doomed or restored?
 
Will healthcare unite us
or tax us to death?
Will science discover
a cure to bad breath?
 
Will sex scandals topple
the ones we admire?
Will faith make a comeback?
Will mentors inspire?
 
A new year? New decade?
The chance for fresh starts?
Let’s dance with new choices
with hope in our hearts.
 
But if peace alludes
both Iran and Iraq,
this might be the decade
that Christ will come back. 

The Real Levi Johnston Revealed
Exposing the naked truth about porn

When Levi dropped his Levis
and then struck a Playgirl pose,
he revealed his base identity.
A scum bag without clothes.

This teenage dad who cashed-in on
his girlfriend’s mother’s fame
may have the guts to bare it all
but lacks a sense of shame.

Exposing his true character
he found celebrity,
but soon he’ll learn the naked truth
about pornography.

That brawn and beauty are skin deep,
that porn will steal your soul.
It robs you of a normal life
exacting quite a toll.

The facts of life and decency
bear witness to what’s right.
God meant for sex to breed real joy
not fantasies at night.

* Levi Johnston is the teenage father of Sarah Palin’s grandson. The ex-fiance of the former Alaska Governor’s daughter has recently posed for Playgirl magazine and made continuous attempts to discredit the Palin family.