Waiting to Pitch

Poem describing how I felt before pitching at Code for the Kingdom Bay Area. See Rejoicing in Absentia for part 2.

hotseat

Anxious waiting, bated breath
Drumbeat heartbeat, racing mind
Blinking, shaking, questioning
If I’m crazy.

Theory, practice,
saying, doing,
knowing, proving, hoping
Grace will be enough.

Sigh of relief
peace to relax
boldness to ask
For the help that I lack.

Outcomes unsure,
is my heart pure?
Puzzling fear,
mockers are near?
Whatever the end,
celebrate with friends.

Poem: In Times of Trouble

I recently found this poem I wrote in 2008. Not the best (I edited it some), but it described my heart at the time. (Please read poetry aloud 🙂 )

In times of trouble God is near
To rescue people he holds dear.

So why should my soul fear?
My holy Father will make things clear.

When knees grow weak and courage falls,
God hides me in his fortress walls.

And when the storms have passed
He leads me out to peace at last.

And when the time of testing comes
God strengthens me with joyful songs,

So I may win the crown
And Jesus’ name shall be renown.


Some related Scriptures (looked up retroactively):

Wet Paper

I found this excerpt from a prayer journal entry on November 11th, 2012.

I feel like a piece of paper,
floating on the surface of a lake,
soaked and shivering in the wind,
tossed about with the waves,
wandering aimlessly with the currents,
on the verge of being ripped at any moment.

Fragile and confused
about whether or not it ought to be content with its lot
or whether it should desire to get swept up by a breeze,
dried off and safely landed on dry land
where the words imprinted on its surface
may be read and benefitted from.

Rake up your memories

Rake up your memories
Fading with time,
Falling like leaves,
Thoughts past their prime.

Tear-drenched,

Sticky,

Wind-worn,

Torn by pain.

Some, bright yellow,
Bring smiles like the sun.

Others, boring brown, are
Mundane piles of daily debris.

Though boring outweigh bright,
And pleasure be obscured by plight,
Don’t throw them all away
Without a second glance,
A second chance to remember:

The grace in every leaf
Becomes the fertile soil
For gratefulness and hope
Which transforms all our toil.

I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
(Psalm 77:11-12)