What I Hold

What I Hold

This poem is based on Psalm 119:49-64 in which I came to imagine its expression through the account of Jacob wrestling with the Angel of the Lord at Peniel in Genesis 32.

The artwork is Rembrandt’s painting of the same event which I find intriguing. The angel is not struggling, but is merely laying Jacob down. The angel’s left hand rests on Jacob’s hip which he will dislocate and his right hand holds Jacob’s neck as if to lay him down gently. I wonder what you see?

In the account from Genesis 32, Jacob eventually surrenders to the blessing that the Lord would give and releases the blessing he imagined he needed to wrest from Him. Of course, he was always better off clinging to the Lord rather than merely grasping at his gifts.

If it’s helpful, you may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

In the house of my sojourning, this wrinkled tent
Which I fold into bed after the day,
As I lie down to sleep, my mind replays
My regrets and all I resent.

I’d chased after blessing tried to wrest from the Blesser,
A frowning father who’d not freely give—
A miser to be tricked so to get from him
The gift, I’d possess the possessor.

I awake in the night angry at cheaters who lie,
Show contempt for the truth, shamelessly mock
Others who trust whom they’ve beat and knocked
With their fists to break and divide.

But affliction throws me, in a hold, pins me in strife;
Left with a limp, I lament all night long;
I recall a verse from a children’s song
You promise to save and give life

Light comes in dayspring, wisdom full and free from above,
I see: all I have You’ve given by grace,
My portion is You, what I hold, Your embrace–
The fullness of your steadfast love.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.
artwork: Rembrandt [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Your Strong Love

Your Strong Love

This poem is based on Psalm 119:33-48.

Psalm 119 is an acrostic poem with the eight lines of each twenty-two verse section beginning with the same Hebrew letter and continuing through the Hebrew alphabet. For the writer, the form limits both the vocabulary and gives a shape to the poem which is not so much linear but reflective on the same sorts of themes.

As I’ve tried to process the sections, I’ve found that Jesus’ parables become imaginative tools through which to understand them. I have not done this intentionally, it has simply arisen through the process. Now that I’m aware, I wonder what may happen going forward. Just the same, it’s at least curious.

In these verses of Psalm 119, the loving Father instructs the wandering eyes of the psalmist and the steadfast love of the Lord brings the psalmist to a spacious place. Wouldn’t that good news make us bold before kings?

If it’s helpful, you may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

If you will teach me, make me learn and show
Me your word, I’ll understand, fully know;
I’ll delight in your laws, in your love grow
And not for selfish gain.

But my wand’ring heart wonders how to claim
Blessing without faith without trusting’s pain;
How alone I might seize, posses, obtain
My dreams from worthless things.

Set your strong love on my heart as a ring
Which heals as a balm, takes away death’s sting,
Removes the reproach my enemies bring
To beat down, lock me in.

At your word, “Light!” Life — a new day begins,
Resounds in music, a new song within
That your grace is greater than all my sin —
Leads me to a broad place.

This is the pasture of abundant grace:
The still waters of God’s loving embrace,
Knowing as we’re known, seeing face to face,
Received, unafraid, unashamed.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.

Artwork: James Tissot 1836 – 1902 The Prodigal Son in Modern Life: The Return, oil on canvas — c. 1882 National Gallery of Art, Washington DC

Grace Gives

Grace Gives

This sonnet is based on Psalm 119:17-32. I draw the theme of grace from the first line, “deal bountifully with me.” Not an expression or word we use much in conversation, “bounty” is the gift received before the previous gift is expended; it is an overflow. How does one receive that kind of gracious gift? What must one do? The answering is graciously amazing.

If it is helpful, you may listen to me read the sonnet via the player below.

My plea: life to live, words to treasure,
Eyes to see, feast, feed in full measure
The wonder of the breadth, width, and height
Of Love’s first spoken word, “Behold, light!”

I sojourn alone as in the night;
The howls of the insolent, on my right;
On my left are those who scorn, berate,
The wicked who plot, the pow’rs who hate.

I cling to the dust, patiently wait
For your grace to come, make true and straight,
To lift from shame, buy back what I sold
To melt with your love my sorrow’s cold.

Though I sit in dirt, your Grace I believe
Gives life to those who can only receive.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.

Artwork: Maximilien Luce [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

That Guy

That Guy

On a recent vacation I road shotgun on the ride down and back. On that trip I came to realize that I had become “that guy.”

Sweet Corn 1 Mile, Warning: Crossing Deer,
Wooden bowls, Boiled Peanuts Ahead,
Shallotte, Boiling Springs, and Cape Fear,
Lake Time Vintiques, The Attic, Grandma’s Shed.

Peaches, Water Melons, and Blue Berries,
White Lake, Whiteville, and Lake Waccamaw
Cerro Gordo, Dirty Ankle, Mount Airy,
Laurinburg, Derby-Windblow, Burgaw.

Snead’s Grove, Piney Grove, Lumber River
Scotland County Recycling Center,
Pollo-Pasta-Pizza, We Deliver,
“Enterance”, Exit Only, Do Not Enter.

Reading aloud signs as we drive by,
I realize with age I’ve become that guy.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
Photograph: This work is from the Carol M. Highsmith Archive collection at the Library of Congress. According to the library, there are no known copyright restrictions on the use of this work.

Blessed, So Blessed

Blessed, So Blessed

I am working on a series of poems based on Psalm 119. The longest psalm and the longest chapter in the Bible, Psalm 119 is an acrostic poem. There are twenty-two, eight verse sections in which the words of each section begin with the same Hebrew letter. The form is as much instructive as the psalm itself. The 176 verses of Psalm 119 is a meditation on the Law. Unlike the Psalms of Ascent (Psalms 120-133) which seem to bear some narrative flow culminating with arriving at blessing, Psalm 119 is constrained by its form. It seems that the form itself is at least part of the lesson, and the lesson is that blessing is not found through unfettered freedom, but rather is enhanced by direction and constraint. (One of the reasons I am helped by poetic forms is that the form makes creating more creative. By limiting my options, I have to work with what I have “rhyme, meter, and rhythm”.) The moral shape of creation (the Law) is comprised of the limits with which we have to cultivate a beautiful character and life.

This sonnet is based on Psalm 119:1-16. If it’s helpful, you may listen to me read the sonnet via the player below.

Ah, to be so blessed as to rest unwound
By the day’s deeds and rumination
That you freely fall to sleep–sweet and sound
Not fearing the prattler’s accusations.
Blessed, so blessed that you know you shall find
The treasure and hope of your desiring
Confident despite trial or grueling grind
Or hardship, discipline, or self-denying.

Can there be such a promise, certain, sure,
Beyond question, betrayal, or forsaking?
A word unqualified, straight and true, pure
So good, the promised hope is earthshaking?
Blessed, the Promise seeks you, calls your name,
Gives you His blessing, takes from you your shame.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.

The Blessed Becomes the Tree

The Blessed Becomes the Tree

This sonnet is first in a series about Psalm 119. This sonnet based on Psalm 1.

Blessed is the man who does not listen
Or seek the so called wisdom of those who
Steal and monetize the spoils of division,
Squeeze out a profit by undoing good.

Blessed is he who preys not on the weak–
Who profits in fomenting division,
But blessed is she who prays with the meek,
Seeks her Maker’s counsel and wisdom.

Blessed is the man who does not stand
Mired in the muck of besetting sin
But builds on the rock not the shifting sand
Who steps into faith, new life begins.

For blessing, the Blessed becomes the tree
Whose arms hand blessing healing those who believe.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.
Artwork: Dagulf-Psalter by Anonymous (http://www.finns-books.com/dagulfg.htm) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

New Mercy

New Mercy

based on Lamentations 3:22-24 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Steadfast, unshakeable, loyal, just, true
One on whom you depend, who never lets go
Is our Lord who loves those beat-down, driven low;
With constancy, ever staying, never letting go,
Is the unceasing, steadfast love of the Lord.

His loving kindness is a fount unending,
Eternal well of unfathomable wealth,
Weal, not woe, wholeness, healing, health;
He passed through the pieces, swore by himself
To prove the unending mercies of the Lord.
His love and mercy each morning rises new

Unwearied, not tired, but rejoicing to begin
Each new day full, not shallow; thick, not thin;
He gives himself, a gracious gift to glory in,
Who is himself the mercy of the Lord.

Great is your faithfulness, who gives to the last breath
And with new mercy rises in defeat of sin and death.

© Randall Edwards 2018.
This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com). Thanks.