The Warrior Inside

I find that if I'm having trouble figuring out my own heart, I let myself get carried away in poetry. 

The poem here, "The Warrior Inside" was written after a man I met asked about JAM and what we do. I told him about the vision of JAM: "To empower the youth in South Africa and make disciples who can make disciples."

I didn't even get the full sentence out of my mouth before he cut me off with a blunt: "It's never going to happen. This country will never change." This man was a Christian.

For those of you who don't know me well, I'm not an aggressive or angry person. ... But I can be. 

And as of late, I've had to ask Jesus again and again to soften my heart towards His bride. I'm not a "church" person; I never really have been. But I do care about the Church and if there is one thing that God has continually spoken into me as a message to His bride it's this: Wake up. 

Just the other night, I was sitting around a dinner table with my napkin in my lap and my placemat set like a cotillion.

Making "polite" conversation

when the dinosaur man across the table joined in

He heard what I did for living, spotted my plate and negated to keep his mouth shut.

"I don't mean to be negative, but I'm afraid honesty is key and honestly, this country will never change."

And I wish he hadn't done that.

I'm in ministry you see,

And I tried my best to force myself from getting angry because I

work to be the vessel in which redemption and revival overtake survival and demoralization.

And I looked at that man, 

saw his Santa belly and hypocrisy dangling around his neck in the form of a cross.

And I thought:

If the energy you use shoving food down your esophagus could be used helping overcome this world's troubles, maybe this country would change. 

And the terrible thing about what I do is I come across so many "Christians" who forget what to shoot for.

And the warrior inside wants to come alive and strive to destroy their tainted views.

My fists clench.

My Jaw tightens, 

These are the signs

that brought the warrior to life

Driven by rage, driven, but driving don't lead you nowhere, unless Love's behind the wheel.

So I shut up and keel over in my rage, begging the Lord to speak reason.

I can't tell you how many Jesus shaped prisons I've seen.

Big ones adorned with steeples and a high rising ceiling.

Loud ones with sounds and lights that give you headaches.

Quiet ones that elicit judgmental looks if I ever raised my hands in worship.

Small ones where everyone knows your name.

Ones with Santa bellies and cross necklaces

I've seen ones that look like people with the names of christ followers, but look a little deeper and they're all the same.

Prisons meant for the one who gave them their names.

Boxes designed to pack in what cannot be tamed.

And I get so mad that they try to claim him as their own.

I have a side conversation with Him in my head while I try to figure out how to answer this dinosaur man.

Jesus, how am I to have compassion for your people when they're trapped in their own steeples?

Jesus, how am I supposed to respond to the call when they keep falling and falling and falling?

Jesus, I'm tired of fighting.

I'm tired of hearing your name tossed around like watered down koolaid.

People kept adding their own mixture until the power of your identity and the reality of your character felt weak.

Jesus, if this is what it means to be a christian, I'd rather be a heathen.

I just want to be with you.

Nothing more, nothing fancy, nothing new.

Jesus, I look all around and see your people get it wrong again and again and again

And then I look within and see me get it wrong again and again and again,

But instead of feeling redemption, I get beaten over the head with stipulations and rules and things to fix and wounds to heal 

while all the while, the dinosaur man unravels my biggest fear 

THAT IT"S ALL FOR NOTHING!

I withdraw into the smallest and intimate part of my soul and hear the soft singing of my heart.

I sing to Him:

Just a little while longer and I'll see you. Just a little while longer and I'll know you. Just a little longer and we'll be together.

I know what it's for.

The warrior returns.

I contemplate the dino man's statement.

"This country will never change."

I swallowed my pride, looked him straight in the eye and said:

"And, Whose fault is that?"