Monday, November 28, 2011


I like to climb
I like those height defeating steps and my fingers searching for grip
With my humble flag strapped to my back,
I anticipate the time this season will be marked 'complete.'
I have my map the world gave me
Its short-cuts and must-sees flashing to my attention
The described mild route up a neat lawn
Over a neat hill
Framed with neat rows of daisies.
My eager toes, which pull my feet,
Which obey my heart's hunger for this climb
Seize to a stop.
Before me I see the majestic face of a steep mountain's cheek
I see rocks and edges and crevices and creeks
My sight surrenders before the height does.
But before me I feel a beckoning
A deep welcoming, voicing
"I know they didn't tell you what this really is, 
But I've approved this climb.
By My grace you will walk and see the most of Me
To which you've ever been exposed."

This is a poem I wrote when I felt confronted with the overwhelming depths that searching out the Bible takes you to.