I do not understand what I do
for I don't do what I would like to do
but instead I do what I hate.
                       -Letter to the Romans

crawling out of Hell

why don't i leave the place i casually walk into

the hell of my life wherein i play with fire?

when the devil is me

what is Satan to do but join in for the ride

enjoying the ayes and ways of my wickedness?

i don't know why i relish the pain of  fire

the smell of Death engulfing my heart.

i shove Christ toward the edge of my life

out of site, out of light

packed with doubts, full of pouts.

out of sorts with the sordid

i've convinced myself it's good for curiosity.

oh that blessed curiosity

of which the Evangelizer John says

"cover your eyes, pluck them out

push back desire lest the stirring desire

curses you for placing your hands

into the mush the nourishes not."

i find myself there again and again

for the umpteenth time

wondering when i'll come to myself

bend my knees and crawl home to God.

*Thoughts of Frederick Buechner:

-...crucifixion is part of our stories too, because we too are men and women of sorrow and acquainted with grief.

-In spite of every reason to give the whole show up, we're here still just able to hope; in spite of all the griefs and failures we've known, we're here still able to rejoice; in spite of the darkness that we all of us flirt with, we are here still just a little, at least, in love with light.  By miracle we survive even our own shabbiness, and for the time being maybe that is resurrection enough.