Your 30 seconds is up.

Hello my reader, what is bakin’ in your day today? It’s a glorious day in Vermont today. 85 and clear skies. What is new in your life? The following is a quick outflow of what is baking in my life. It is just a few things that God is teaching me–the relational God, not the aloof coffee drinker-golfer, sumbrero-wearer. It’s directed at anybody that it convicts, and it challenges me to spend more time talking to God, rather than serving him. Bombs away:

Your 30 seconds is up.

Feel me? Hear me?

Dear me,

oh I’m tired from helping her out,

what a nice opportunity to serve that was:

Oh, I’m stressed from work,

I just want to gel on the Tee Vee,

watch the ten o’clock news.

24 hours in the day, seven days in a week-

do the math: 168 hours in a week.

For us, it’s for me actually…

God, stay on the fringes.

You my Sunday God,

my church smile,

my bedtime story.

Bedtime hello goodbye.

 

We go to the end of the earth,

make sacrifices for our friends,

for their ends,

for family–

not like it’s an anomaly.

Can’t you see?

Ecclesiastes baby-all the labor of the world is vanity.

We reap what we sow-sow what we reap.

So why’s Jesus the last on your list?

Like an afternoon piss:

30 seconds of joy,

relief,

ease,

then goodbye-I’ve-got-work-to-do.

But it’s for you,

don’t worry Jesus.

I got it under control.

 

He stands defending you and me-

‘Surely Father of all, he will come through.

He knows our power,

the wrench of humanity in my hand,

astronomical vision in my eyes.

We are the beginning and the end.

Surely he’s heard.

Surely he knows.

Gleaning from our hand

is like the fountain of youth.

Like king Midas-I’ve got the touch

to turn the rust to pure gold.

So don’t worry Father, he will glean from us,

learn from us,

trust us,

we’ve come through time and time again.

Just look at his job.

Look at his car.

Surely he knows-we give him the punches in bunches.’

 

But not even five minutes a week,

what a rotten sheep.

 

‘He can’t know my plans

in his sleep.

He can’t keep

the serving of other sheep

without conversing with someone other than his mans.

Talk to me son.

I’m the risen one.’

 

Says Cross Movement:

“It’s do or die, truth or lie, you and I

Refuse to try, and trust the
Crucified 

< Yo what do you see when you close your
eyes? <What will you see when
your life goes by?”

 

But God I’m tired, I’m stressed.

Giving you mah besst.

Serving you with all my flesh.

Hands worn, feet a blistered mess.

My back aches.

Those kids are overjoyed and safe.

I’m a star in the church,

sparkleplenty in my home,

the rulah of the school,

dancin’ on the world

like its me who rules,

but it’s all for you.

All for you.

 

But I won’t talk to you,

walk with you,

learn from you,

glean from you,

discern from you,

gain wisdom, the knowledge of you.

The books help.

But God don’t talk to me,

I’m just too busy.