And the words came

More perfect words were never written:

"Every word you give me is a miracle word -- how could I help but obey? Break open your words, let the light shine out, let ordinary people see the meaning. Mouth open and panting, I wanted your commands more than anything. Turn my way, look kindly on me, as you always do to those who personally love you. Steady my steps with your Word of promise so that nothing malign gets the better of me. Rescue me from the grip of bad men and women so I can live life y our way. Smile on me, your servant; teach me the right way to live. I cry rivers of tears because nobody's living by your book!"*

Last night I pulled out some things (poems of all things) I had written in college because I've been doing some things with a writer's group that meets on Wednesdays in my new community.

My impression was pretty immediate. Boy, was I bad. Followed by, boy, was I moody. Finished b y, boy, was I moody and bad. Did I mention it was college? Did I mention that it was poetry? Wow. Was it ever bad.

But there was a glimpse here and there of my future. It was a bit of a time capsule, for I began the entire project of journaling (which one could argue I've never stopped some, er, uh, 40 plus years later) with the words, "My greatest dream in life is to be published, successfully accepted by my peers, a man of talent, a man who lives, who works, by the talent given him by God. So here I am taking creative writing, the first step toward that goal, the cliff in which to start the coward slope, the beginning of my life as I think it was meant to be. I want to be a writer."

I did that, for better or worse (and mostly worse). The difference is the subject matter. Back then, way, way back then, my thoughts often turned to love and loss. Now, well, not so much.

But there was a glimpse, just a hint of what was to come in my other calling.

Here, believe it or not, is a poem from 1973:

Jesus sweet Jesus
Riding in on the morning sun
looking like the chosen one
Jesus, sweet man's Son

I once loved a world, sinful thought it was
but there was happiness there, yes it was
but the happiness that was found
was short, and there was not enough to go round
till I saw the sweet one calling me

Jesus sweet Jesus
Riding in on the morning sun
looking like the chosen one
Jesus, sweet man's Son

I once said no need for Him;
I can make it, Lord I can swim
but the sea of trouble I was riding on
was too deep for me till Jesus dawned
then I saw the sweet One calling me

Jesus 
my sweet Jesus
Riding in on the morning sun
looking like the chosen one
Jesus, sweet man's Son

Who knew?
Words define us, envelop us, guide us, remind us.
Words break open and shine.
Words promise and prophesy.
Word came
Word loved
Word left
Word will come again.

*Psalm 119 from the Message