Skip to main content

For the King Who Has Everything...


What do you give the king who has everything?  Words of honor? Mentions of prestige?  Promises of glory before his throne?   Courageous deeds or royal service?  How about tears?  Tears that sprinkle his feet as he sits before you.  Tears that you wipe away with your hair and your sleeves.  Tears that you press against his toes with your kisses.  Tears that fall so freely because you know...  You know that your invitation into his presence was not based on merit, entitlement or irresistible beauty.  He knows your name because he loves you.  So you cry.

And when you have wiped the last tear away, what then?  Do you break out the expensive wine?  Do you usher him to your seat of honor at your dinner table?  Prepare his favorite meal?  Well, you could.  But perhaps you prepare him for his burial.  Grab your jar of perfume and pour it all over his feet.  You let go of all of your self awareness.  Free yourself of your dignity and pride.  Surrender your thoughts and throw your righteousness in the trash.  Coat his bunions and corns with your finest fragrance, because he's about to be molested, defiled, and pierced for your violations. Because the king first loved you and you don't care who knows it.





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Watching My Step

I've always had big feet. It's true. There was never a moment in my childhood when my feet were not an object of frustration and ridicule. And those "dogs" were all over the place, facing the wrong direction, tripping over themselves, tripping over coffee tables, desks, chairs, other people. It was embarrasing. Watching my step was a full time job. Since becoming a man, I've mastered my former oppressors (my size 14's) and you would hardly noticed my attention to detail. However, today, at 40, I'm still watching my step. With so much experience and success with walking and watching my step, I've discovered that the same is true in my spiritual life as well. I haven't always watched my step in life and of course, it resulted in me finding myself in all kinds of traps, snares and dead ends. I've spent years tripping over my sinful habits and walking down dirt roads that lead to nowhere. To no one's blame but my own. After experiencin...
1 comment
Read more

The Force of Divorce (part 1)

I don’t think we truly understand what divorce is and why God hates it. For example, if I gave you the Merriam Webster’s definition of divorce, the action or instance of legally dissolving a marriage , more than likely you'll find that definition insufficient. If you are divorced or your parents are divorced, you know that definition lacks depth and substance. It’s like a survivor of a devastating hurricane describing his experience as “I witnessed a tropical cyclone with winds of 156 mph that was accompanied by heavy rain thunder and lightning.” You know that surviving a category 5 hurricane is bit more involved than announcing a weather report. (Ask anyone who survived Hurricane Katrina.) And yet every survivor’s story is unique and personal. I especially believe we don’t get what divorce does to our children. I’m not saying that I completely understand it either. I’ve never been divorced, (not even close), but I do know how it affected me as a kid. ...
6 comments
Read more

Eulogy (part 2)

My father never found his kingdom on earth. The multimillion dollar inheritance that he often spoke of with such hope and promise would never be realized. That two dollars and fifty cents? I still have it today. When I first discovered in his wallet, among his belongings, I wept. Such a proud and successful man should never die with so little. I now keep it among my prize possessions in honor of what my father did leave me. He left me with something greater than a kingdom on earth. He left me with a desire and a passion to be the father that he couldn’t be with me. He left me with a thirst for love and family. In the end when I think of my father, a number descriptions come to mind: bold, passionate, angry, driven. But I know that he loved me best way he could. In his own way, everything he did was for me. The way he lived his life and even the way he died. His cause of death was congested heart failure. Indeed my father had so much on his heart th...
Post a Comment
Read more