The Mad Dance

Here from the carpet looking straight up
ambiguous colors do the electric slide
under my eyelids.

Some kind of squirming bluish creature
shares a few sidesteps and twirl-abouts
with a squishy nectarine.

Dear Lord it's a mad celebration of the indistinguishable
on the surface of my eyeballs!
And in a strange twist of events
I'm not invited to join in on the lunatic's jig.

Still, here on the carpet I will stay forever
because this is a bed for a King
And it's just the thing I need to rest my tired eyes.

But I really wouldn't mind if
The squirmy blues and nectarines
On my eyes
Joined the many hues and tangerines on yours.

It would be just fine with me
if they could dance together forever.

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Plastic

Plastic Bible cover
Plastic drinking cup
Plastic umbrella
Plastic ink pen
Plastic push pin
Plastic flip-flops
Plastic Happy Meal toys
Plastic cell phone
Plastic "toy" gun
Plastic body bag


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Everyone's Waiting

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I waited five years to finish college so I could get on with my real life. A few years ago, it seemed all I was waiting for was the perfect girl. You know, the one who "gets it." She is beautiful, yet humble. She knows she has great value, but she's never better than the needs of the single mother in the local mission. Today, I wait for a phone call telling me it's time to start a new career. For months I waited for people to stop asking: "Do you have a teaching job yet?" For many restless nights I tried to understand why I have no desire to teach, thinking there must be a logical answer. Instead, I received peace from God on my decision, without the clear answers everyone else wants to hear.

When I weighed five pounds, was bald and had only gums to chew with, I waited on food and on human touch. When I was a teenager, I waited for someone to tell me what to do with my life. I waited for someone to tell me it's alright to love the world so much that it literally hurts to see people fall to pieces. No one ever told me it was alright, and it still hurts like hell.

To this day, I wait on God to show His face. I wait for the revelation which will remove all doubt. Hope is the painful sacrifice of what seems to make sense, and faith is a heavy burden. Yet, that is all I have until I leave this world and see Christ looking into my gray eyes, calling me His most beloved.

Sometimes, waiting for one day to end and the next to begin feels like getting a second chance. Other times, it feels like waiting to die. For my whole life I have waited for someone to tell me the value of my life. When I have been told, I've waited on myself to believe it.

I wait for the right chance to tell my grandmother that I love her before she dies. I want to tell her that I love her for having a part in shaping my mother, who has shaped me. I wait to understand why the men in my family can never use the word "love" unless we really mean it. I wait to understand why we can't mean it more often. My soul wants to love God's people until there is nothing left of me. Even as a child, I knew God had placed an uncommon pain in me. It is a pain I feel for every fractured heart. It is impossible to understand, but it is as real as my sin. Yet, my surface insecurities hold me back from even extending a comforting word to a hurting stranger.

I wait to stop living in my head. I wait to discover what it means to live life as my Creator intended. I wait to lose myself. I want God to hold my crippled body as I crawl for a few more days, as I wait to begin living. I want God to grab my throat and choke out whatever is left of this hollow human shell. I will not wait to see God. I must feel Him in this house, in this room, in my bones. My Father has waited on me for far too long.

Oh Lord on this Mountain

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Standing at the foot of this mountain, I have to question my decision to ascend. If I manage to make it all the way to the peak, I know the view will compensate the journey. On the peak, I will see the world for what it is. On the peak, I will see my God for the first time. So I must go. It is a long way up.

I have an uninvited feeling in my chest. It must be the thin air at this altitude. Still I trod on, leaving distractions behind me. Distractions threaten to spoil my journey. I see sunlight sneak through the tall pines, drawn to the morning mist like paint is drawn to a canvas. But I must pay it no mind. The view of my Saviour is at the peak. The thought of this grand view is enough to block out the noise of the nearby waterfall. Even as the water pounds on the rocks below, I feel a moist breath on my neck. I must try to ignore it. I am on a journey.

The sun has outsmarted me, making it to the peak first. The sun shines into my eyes, blinding me for a moment, seemingly to boast of its victory. No matter, I have made it! I am taller than the pines, higher than the birds. The air is pure and invigorating. My mind is clear, perfectly empty, for the first time on my journey. But where is my Lord? Where is the awesome view? God, what is my life for? I am so worn out, so tired of being alone. I am spent, God.

On the way down, something seems different. The breath of the waterfall cools my burning neck. The falling water now sounds like a symphony to my open ears. The sunlight gives me peace as it pours through the trees. I have a feeling in my chest again. Is it the thin air at this height, or is it the love of God swelling within me?

Now That's What I Call Inspiration Volume 1

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Have you ever had the feeling that there is something great in the world that you are missing, although it is right in front of you? This past week I accidentally made a discovery that has already begun to change my life in a very small, yet important way. After diving head first into the ocean of Christian music several years ago, I had a few good years of meaningful listening. I was at a point where I didn't really enjoy music unless it was praising God. Then, I began to grow more and more cynical towards all contemporary Christian music. I felt that it was rarely sung from the heart. It was all ultimately cliché, I sometimes thought. In fact, I began to wonder if there were any mainstream Christian artists who's inspiration came from God, instead of a paycheck. My love of God and appreciation for heartfelt music should have coincided wonderfully, but my perception of the landscape of Christian music made that very difficult.

After a very dry year (or 2) I've finally come to a place where I know I must have been wrong. There are artists who use their talents to praise God from their heart, not from their wallet. It makes me wonder what else I've been wrong about! Anyways, here's the man who broke some of my cynicism towards mainstream Christian pop music, one step at a time.


Mountains On The Ocean Floor
from "The Far Country"
Words and music by Andrew Peterson


(I Samuel 16:7, Revelation 2:17, Romans 7:15-25, Phillipians 1:6)

My uncle’s in the county jail
His time is on his hands
He knows he chose a barren cell
Over a fair and fertile land

He took another hit
He hit another high
He flew until he fell
Just like he has a thousand times

Nothing ever seems to change
But miles away beneath the waves

There are mountains
Mountains on the ocean floor
They’re rising from the deep
But no one ever sees
No one ever sees

I can’t believe I landed there
I swear I swore it off
I know that I can’t stand it here
Still I came and took a fall

I wish that I could shake it
I wish that I was free
I wish that I was half the man
I wish that I could be

There are mountains
Mountains on the ocean floor
They’re moving up so slow
No one ever knows
No one ever knows

Nothing ever seems to change
But miles away beneath the waves
Down below the dirt
Hotter than a flame
In the belly of the earth
He has given you a Name

There are mountains
Mountains on the ocean floor
They’re rising from the deep
Where no one ever sees
There are mountains
They’re hidden there beneath the waves
They’re moving up so slow
No one ever knows
There’s a molten heart of stone
That is waiting to explode
Only God can see it grow


www.andrew-peterson.com/music

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