I watched a secular movie today
Dead Poets Society
Picked apart as humanistic in spirit, but
I don’t care what they call it;
I saw You there in it
“Poetry stirs up passion;
Sucking the marrow of the bone dry”
Was how one dead poet put it.
I know they left You out of the picture
But I didnt
I saw You there in it.
I saw a man today weeding his garden
Playing his music loudly and worshiping You, God
He’s not accepted in church, he said.
He left it feeling sucked dry to the marrow of his bone.
Picked apart due to his sin
But right in his garden, I saw You there in it
What are You saying that I have not heard
Wherever I look, Look!
There You are in Your Word
If I look past what I see;
For Your word lives in me, and
As Living Waters rise they must flood past my eyes
So that all that I see is through the eyes
Of the Perfect One
Who also loves me
Every thing in life,
Everything and everyone in life
Must point to You.
Every place I go
Everywhere and everyplace I go
Must point to You
This is now my goal
This is now my heart and my soul
That I point to You
For You have brought me high
You have brought me low and then again, high
That I would point to You
You have made me as a sign,
A sign and a wonder
A miracle of grace, and a product of thunder
You have made me to shine as though my own life
Was well oiled;
Never having been picked apart and sucked dry
Nor tarnished and soiled
All of this I know yet I’m still learning
I’ve got so far to go yet I’m discerning
Isn’t this Your heart
Isn’t this where You want us all to be?
Looking for Your heart
Seeing with Your eyes
Reaching for Your love
Extending with Your hand
And seeing You at the Center
Of everything we do
Everyplace we go
Everyone we meet
And all we’ll ever know, is
There You are.
This was a spontaneous poem I had written after watching Dead Poet’s Society, a movie about a group of young, elite, college kids from 1959 who are inspired greatly by their English teacher, through the study of poetry. They formed a Dead Poet’s Society, where they could learn more about the famous poet’s of old.
As I watched, I saw the Lord’s signature woven all the way through. I didn’t try to see Him, I just did.
Later that day, my neighbor at the time, a gay man, being out in his garden, was singing to the Lord. I watched him, and I saw the Lord right there with him. My neighbor called out to me when he looked up, and we talked awhile. There, he shared with me his struggles with church because he is gay but he felt close to God. (I am NOT saying God condones his sin, but I learned something that day – that God had not picked him apart and sucked his marrow dry BECAUSE of his sin. He loved my neighbor and was pleased to dwell with him IN THAT MOMENT).
This morning, June 17, I was praying. I asked the Lord to stir up my spirit to sense His presence all around me again; like He did years ago. What got in the way?
I turned to my reading for this morning – Psalm 77. “Call to remembrance the days of old. ”
I looked at old poems and read Dead Poet’s Society, the spontaneous poem above.
He doesn’t pick me apart and suck all the life out of my bones.
Behavior needs to be repented of, but not struggled with. We only need to acknowledge our emptiness and then seek His face. If we struggle with our sin and see our sin always before us, we will feel as if we are picked apart and sucked dry but rivers of living waters fill our bellies and flood our being when our eyes are upon Him. The eyes being upon Him is what floods our being with His presence and sanctification, and overcoming.
