But God …

poetry

I’ve been taking a break from blogging this summer, but continue to write. This poem came to me one Sunday after my pastor preached a message from Ephesians Chapter 2. More specifically–Ephesians 2:1-7:

And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest. But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

This passage like no other impresses on me my dependence upon God. It encourages me to worship Him and give Him all the glory. I imagine we’ll be saying, “But God …” forever and ever, but allow me to get the party started. I hope you enjoy the poem.

But God …
by Scott Johnson

Death slithers by,
And laughs.
A sweet taste,
Turned bitter.
The world crashes,
And burns.
Leaves barely cover,

But God …

Rescued from bondage,
Wandering over hot sand.
The promise, eluding.
Grumbling,
Stumbling,
Doubting,
Dreams of returning,

But God …

Laws, laws,
And more laws.
Throats slit.
Blood spilt and sprinkled.
Priests entering into
Makeshift temples.
Sins atoned—for today,

But God …

Like other nations:
Good kings,
Bad kings,
Wicked kings.
Whole hearts,
Half hearts,
No hearts,

But God …

Silence reigns.
Shepherds shiver,
Watching the night.
A cry rings out
From cold, itchy straw.
Just a baby,
Only a baby,

But God …

The message proclaimed;
People ignore.
Nails pierce and tear.
Visions diced and crushed.
Death coils and strikes.
Darkness baths the land.
A last hope entombed,

But God …

Consumed by flesh,
By lust, by the world.
Blind sinner, lost,
Broken clay pot.
Stranger, far removed,
Excluded, without hope.
Child of wrath,

But God …

Cancer invades,
Heartbeats slow.
Years out number.
Feeble, old
Growing tired,
Sleeping,
Returning to dust,

But God …

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