Untitled.

Were I to see my image
Staring back at me
I would wait it to speak
And think it disturbing
That this is me

I would hate to the utmost
My own utter being
And to say the least
I would be the first
To bring me to my knees

Clearly this image of mine
Is not worth to live

But who am I
To cast my reflection
To the depths
And imprison it?

For I know not my strengths
Nor my weaknesses so that I may improve
I steal from the others
And of stolen goods is my life woven

I despise the very words I type
For I know the imperfection that lies
My anger relishes in all this
Knowing that I am not fruitful
And undeserving of many things

I demand you to know me
But I know that you are greater than me
Why spare some time to a lesser being
When you know your place as a greater head?

To my image staring back at me
Shatter to pieces
And undo the source
That have made the broken image thee created with thy hand

With thy hand, thou has created me
Made me from dust and to dust I shall return
So mournful am I without thee, without knowing thee
I am Tantulus, I am the hand that tantalizes me
I seek thy forgiveness, but my flesh is weak
And to seek forgiveness is no longer sought
But thou knew and thou understood
Thou made thy image in me
And thy hands laid upon me
Thy glory revealed through sin’s darkness
At long last, the day when thy glory in me
Is finally set right
Thy glory never tainted
In this splendor light
Let thou cast thy love upon thy servant
Upon whom thy son has died for thy will
Thou art good.
Soli deo gloria.

“What have we become?
A self-indulgent people
What have we become?
Tell me, where are the righteous ones?
What have we become?
In a world degenerating?
Oh, what have we become?”

.

.

.

“What about love?
What about God?
What about holiness?
What about mercy, compassion, and selflessness?”

- dc Talk “What Have We Become?”

Yesterday, I saw a guitarist singing praise songs alone, but when it came to people singing along to “Down”. Their faces lit up and loved singing along, but when the song came to something that was sung in church, they lost interest and went back to whatever they were doing.

Sometimes, this makes me ponder.
Do we love to sing because we love the music?
What about the lyrics? What about the words?
Have we forgotten that the words we utter are not just words but words with weight?

I’m distressed that I sing along without really comprehending what the song is about and just singing along as if I really agree with the song subject.