The White Train

The White Train

I entered into the pub at dusk and took in the sights and sounds around me. The Darkest Pit was regarded as one of the best pubs in town, so it happened to attract many people. The dimly-lit bar was rich with sounds of boisterous laughter, clanging mugs, and ragtime piano music. I stood at the threshold, surveying the scene. Everyone seemed to be having fun and yet, something seemed rather off about the whole situation. The coughing of someone in the back shifted my gaze to a particular gentleman, with a black trenchcoat and a rugged beard. He wore scars on his face and a tall hat to mask them. He wasn’t laughing like the rest of them, but simply staring into his drink, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around him. The fact that this man behaved this way intrigued me, but I decided not to pry. I moved my gaze to the front of the room, where three laughing people at the bar were clashing their mugs and spilling their drinks. The bar was best lit of the small establishment, with the electric lights clearly illuminating the numerous bottles of liquor, but especially the people being tended to. Each had let out a bellowing laugh at the crack of a joke, but one man hesitated with chuckle until he noticed his company roaring in delight. He took a small sip of his drink, gazing into the cabinet of spirits, and ordered a whisky. The fact that this man seemed to be somewhere else was slightly troublesome, but who was I to judge him? Then the crescendo of the piano stole my attention, and I looked to the piano man. He was was disheveled, untidy, and dirty. His hair was matted down and greasy, his fully grown beard was filthy, covered with bits and pieces of previous meals, and his clothes were ripped in numerous places. I crossed the room in order to get a better look at him, making my way through the thick crowd. On top of his piano, was a tip jar. Usually I would not give much thought to such an ordinary item, but the fact that the man looked the way he did spoke volumes about such a common item. As I approached closer, a pungent odor assaulted my nostrils. This man clearly had not bathed for quite sometime. And while the ragtime song he played was upbeat and cheerful, his eyes had sunken deep into his skull, and he started at me with a vacant expression, as if no one occupied this husk of a man. I reached into my wallet and placed five dollars into his jar. He looked at me with the most expectant, wondrous expression, as if he was a child staring at a sizeable lollipop. I felt pity on the man, and placed ten more into his jar. At this, he started openly sobbing in front of me, all the while still playing the ragtime tune that contradicted his emotional state. I stared at him in bewilderment, feeling guilt well up in my stomach. What had happened to this man? I backed away slowly, not knowing what to do for the man. I turned and stumbled toward the door, my head spinning into a mix of sorrow, shock, and rage. How could something like this happen to someone? As I reached the door, I looked over my shoulder and surveyed the room one last time before. In my encounter with each person, I sensed something was amiss with them. My initial assessment of this place had told me that it was a place of cheer and high spirits. But as I was leaving, I knew that not one person sitting in that pub was there for the cheer and music, but rather the alcohol, as a means to cope with the pain. I threw open the door and ran out in the now-pouring rain, distraught at what I had discovered. As I darted through the empty streets, I could only think about each person, and what their story might be. I took cover at the nearest place I could find, which happened to be the train station. I stopped when the platform roof covered my head, and fell to my knees crying. My whole world had been flipped upside-down in a matter of mere minutes. I heard the sound of footsteps approach me, but wept still, broken at the sight in the pub. “Pardon me sir, but are you waiting for the train?” I looked up. Before me stood a Conductor, dressed from head-to-toe in a white tuxedo, even complete with white shoes and a white conductor's hat. “I’ve already taken care of your baggage” he said. I looked at Him, puzzled. “What do you mean?” He held out His hand, fitted with a white glove. “Come with me” He said. As I was helped to my feet, I suddenly noticed the train sitting in the station. As I looked upon this fascinating contraption, the rain tapered to a halt. The train was also white, polished, and glimmering in moonlight, as the beads of rain that clung to the machine reflected the fractals of light brightly. We came to a halt at platform 5, then the Man turned to me and pointed at compartment on the lower of the train marked with a 17. “What’s in there?” I asked. “I have already told you: I have taken your baggage.” I became even more confused now. “But I didn’t bring any baggage here. I came straight from The Darkest Pit.” He tilted his head and maintained his gaze. “Would you like to see?” He asked. Still not knowing what he meant, I took on his offer. “Yes.” He took a set of keys from his belt, and unlocked the compartment. Lined from wall-to-wall, were suitcases and bags, just as he had said. The compartment was completely filled, as each bag had been meticulously placed to maximize storage. “But which one is mine?” Again, He looked at me with the intense gaze that he always bestowed. “All of them” He said. I staggered backward, unable to believe what I was seeing. “Who else have you taken the baggage of?” I asked, stunned at this statement. “I have a compartment for anyone who chooses to ride my train.” From the inside pocket of his jacket, He pulled out a ticket and handed it to me. “Whether or not you wish to ride is up to you, but we will depart as soon as you take the seat prepared for you is taken” At this, He walked away, presumably to the operating booth. I watched Him walk away, still with a million question in my mind, then looked at the ticket in my hand. “Car 11, Row 28, Seat 30.” I looked up at the train and asked myself: was I ready to just leave everything behind and ride this train to wherever it might take me? But after the brief exchange of words with the Mysterious Man in white, how could I not? There was nothing left for me here anyways. So I boarded the train and followed the ticket to my seat. When I found my seat, it was not as I was expecting. I thought it would have been a normal train seat, but it was a plush recliner; the very best seat on the train. Amazed, I walked over to it as if in a trance, and took my seat. As I peered out the window, the landscape started to move. Where we were bound, I could not say. But somehow I knew that wherever the train went, it would take me somewhere better. Because for once in my life, Someone was guiding me there.

Originally Written 8/13/14

Soul Chasm: Explained

If you didn't already guess, the thing I'm talking about in this poem is sin. I named the poem "soul chasm" because sin separates us from God. A spiritual chasm, if you will. Here's a simple breakdown of the thought process:

Everyone has what no one wants

Everyone is born with sin. There's no escaping that fact.

Once attained it cannot be forgotten

Sin isn't exactly the kind of thing you can forget about.

It gnaws away at our existence

Our existence was originally meant to be perfect, a simple union between man and God. But then Adam sinned, and everything changed. Now, sin runs completely rampant in our society. The more we sin, the more our existence becomes rooted in our sin. We become so fixated on the temporal, that we forget about what is eternal.

And hides below the surface,

Waiting

The people who seem happy? They're really hurting underneath. It's just a facade.
I put the word "Waiting" at the end, because sin loves to wait for its next opportunity to ensare.

We store it away

And bury it with a shovel

But it delights in this

And dances with the darkness

In a midnight nocturne

Rejoicing

Now that I've said the meaning behind the poem, this part should be fairly obvious. And in fact, it kinda ties in with the last part. No one wants their sins to be known, so they hide them away from sight. But of course, sin thrives in the dark. The word "Rejoicing" at the end depicts how sin feels when hidden away.

Because we do not realize who it is

We welcome it into our home.

The stranger lies to enter in

And hides in many masks.

Deception

Sin takes a lot of different forms, and because of this, we don't always recognize sin when we see it. So we invite it into our life, and there it lives. Until too late, we see it for what it really is. "Deception" is the game sin played to get into our life.

Time passes, and it laughs

We trick ourselves into thinking it left

But we realize how wrong we actually were.

When our complacency sends us spiraling.

Despairing

Again, this part ties into the last. Only after it's too late do we see the severity of the sin. It's grown in our life. It's deeply rooted, hard to remove. And just when things start going well for us, and things seem normal again, we realize that the sin never really left in the first place. When we grow complacent is when sin creeps back into our life. "Despairing" is how the host of the sin feels at this point.

Once apparent

It reveals who we really are

Others will see it

And some will take the one way street

To exit stage right

Hoping

Even though we hate our sin, we keep committing the same crimes over and over again. Why? It's a reflection of our selfishness. Our sin exposes that selfish nature. Others will see that sin, and leave, scared by what they see. It destroys relationships. "Hoping" is at the end here, because the victim of the sin is hoping for a way out. Pleading, almost.

There are many roads.

The roads are worn and beaten

And they are easy to travel.

When we think we are alone

is when we see the many footprints in the dirt

Wondering

Essentially, all this passage is saying is that you're not alone in your struggles. It might feel like that at times, but that's exactly what the enemy wants you to think. The "footprints in the dirt" are the numerous people who have walked through the same sin. But, every path has an end. "Wondering" because this is when the host starts to wonder if they were actually alone this whole time.

The day has come for us to face it
testing the might of our soul
Some fail, but others succeed
And we when it is defeated

We make it as part of us

Rather than a mercurial counterpart

Liberation

I hold fast to the phrase "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". Instead of pushing our struggles away, we learn from it, and allow it to grow us. "Liberation" should be pretty self explanatory here. The victim of sin is finally free. 

So let me make one thing clear here: I wrote this poem as a narrative of one man's struggle with sin, so it kinda sounds like that a solo effort is a tangible feat. But without God, nothing is possible. You can hold on longer by yourself. You can try harder by yourself. But you can never defeat sin without God. Not fully. Just because God wasn't mentioned in this poem, that doesn't mean I don't recognize his vital role in defeating sin. Here's what I did mean:

In our struggles with sin, we have a part, and God has a part. This poem was written from the perspective of our part.  I'm going to use the analogy of a farmer here. Picture a farmer out in the fields, planting his crops. He plows his fields. He sows his seeds. Then he waits. Because there is nothing he can do about the weather. He must trust in God, and leave everything up to him, because there is nothing more he can do for his crops at this point. The farmer cannot control the wind, or the rain, or the sun. Only God can do this. In the same way, there are many elements of our sin that we cannot overcome. Only God can do that. 

Tomorrow: The White Train

Soul Chasm

Soul Chasm

Everyone has what no one wants

And once attained cannot be forgotten

It gnaws away at our existence

And hides below the surface

Waiting

We store it away

And bury it with a shovel

But it delights in this

And dances with the darkness

In a midnight nocturne

Rejoicing

Because we do not realize who it is

We welcome it into our home

The stranger lies to enter in

And hides in many masks

Deception

Time passes, and it laughs

We trick ourselves into thinking it left

But we realize how wrong we actually were

When our complacency sends us spiraling

Despairing

Once apparent

It reveals who we really are

Others will see it

And some will take the one way street

To exit stage right

Hoping

There are many roads

The roads are worn and beaten

And they are easy to travel

When we think we are alone

is when we see the many footprints in the dirt

Wondering

The day has come for us to face it
testing the might of our soul
Some fail, but others succeed
And we when it is defeated

We make it as part of us

Rather than a mercurial counterpart

Liberation

Originally Written 12/4/13

The Return

To those who read this blog: sorry for my absence. But I'm going to be switching up things a bit.

For the rest of the month (starting tomorrow), I'm going to be posting two posts a day. One of the posts will be an old story/poem that I wrote. The other will be an explanation of the story/poem.

Why am I doing this now? Well, I feel like I've been so caught up in life, that I've kinda forgotten about this blog, and I'm a little upset about that. I've also heavily neglected my knack for creative writing, and I feel like I shouldn't ever stop expanding on that. Because writing stories and poems riddled with meaning is/was one of my favorite things to do. While I have shared a few of my stories on Facebook before, I feel like most of these have been kept to myself, and I think it's about time to share these. And don't worry; if you're here for my religious insight, that's not really going to change. Most of my writing, while seemingly normal, is vastly inspired by something pertinent to Christianity.

So I hope this entices you to read. If not, then I'll try to resume my normal pattern next month.

Tomorrow: Soul Chasm 

Forsaken

I'm sure we've all felt as if God has abandoned us at one time or another. I know I have. When we're broken emotionally, physically, or spiritually, we cry out to Him in an attempt to understand our circumstances. In the case of Jesus, he was broken in all three areas at once. When he was hanging from the cross, bleeding and struggling for air, the Bible says that he cried out in a loud voice, saying "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:14).

The amount of depth hidden in those words is incredible.

Jesus's words here aren't ones that begs pity on his situation. He's not saying that he doesn't understand why God has left him. He doesn't lack insight on God's plan. What Jesus is doing here is delivering a message to those who are wise enough to understand it. Jesus, in his final moments of life, is quoting a Psalm. Psalm 22 to be exact, which says the following:

"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises. In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame. But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by everyone, despised by the people.All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads.“He trusts in the Lord,” they say, “let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.” Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast. From birth I was cast on you; from my mother’s womb you have been my God. Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help. Many bulls surround me; strong bulls of Bashan encircle me. Roaring lions that tear their prey open their mouths wide against me. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me. My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; you lay me in the dust of death. Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet. All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment. But you, Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me. Deliver me from the sword, my precious life from the power of the dogs. Rescue me from the mouth of the lions; save me from the horns of the wild oxen. I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you. You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel! For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help. From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you. I will fulfill my vows. The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the Lord will praise him— may your hearts live forever! All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him, for dominion belongs to the Lord and he rules over the nations. All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him— those who cannot keep themselves alive. Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!"

Perception

Not everything is the way it seems. It never has been. It never will be.

That boy that steals food and drugs? He's trying to keep his sick mother alive.
That girl that's anorexic? She's made fun of at school for her appearance.
That homeless man on the streets? He's a war veteran with PTSD, and his wife took all his money while he was away.

The vast majority of Christians (in particular) will take one look at each person in these scenarios and immediately pass judgement on them and their circumstances. "Oh he's a thief? He should be arrested. Oh she's anorexic? She made herself that way. Oh he's homeless? He should have learned to handle his money better. " My question is; why do we feel the need to judge in the first place? Every time someone judges another human being for what they're doing or what their life is like, they are doing a lot of harm. To themselves, and to that person. In the end, there is only One who can rightfully pass judgement. And He is the only perfect and righteous judge.

Do you know why passing judgement hurts other people as well as ourselves? Because it's not out of love. The more we judge others, the less we love them.  Jesus was able to love others, despite what they had done. Take John 8:2-11 for example:

"Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and taught them.  The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst  they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?”This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more."

The pharisees were clearly testing Jesus in this passage; they wanted to trap him in his actions, as they had tried to do so many times before. Either Jesus follows the law, or he dismisses the law, and in both cases, they could have taken charge against Jesus. But Jesus does something amazing by forgiving the sin of the woman, which is something only God could do. However the point here is not the forgiveness of sin, but rather the way Jesus said "Everyone sins, are you going to judge and condemn her for hers?" Imagine if more people could behave like this. Gandhi once said "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians." And you know why? It's because people go around judging others, pointing the Bible at them, and telling them how they should behave. That statement was said around 75 years ago, and the sad thing is that there's still a lot of reason to dislike Christians. Andy Mineo said in his song "Uncomfortable" that we have to "grip that blade of the sword." The sword he's talking about is the Sword of the Spirit, and by gripping the blade, he's saying that "what cuts you should also cut me." Gripping the blade by the handle and pointing it at others can certainly be taken as threatening. We have become callous to the scriptures, and we rain down truth on everyone we meet. But truthfully, we should also be submitting our own lives to the authority of the Word. This is where I believe we should start if we are looking to change the way that the outside world views us.

So while judgement upon another person might be a passing thought, you can still harm a lot of people with that thought, including yourself. Take the time to consider that the person you are judging is a dearly loved child of God. If you still aren't convinced, take a look at this verse:

"But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." -1 Samuel 16:7

So ask yourself; is it really worth it to judge? Does it honestly benefit anyone? The answer: 

Nope.

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven."

-Luke 6:37

Make Me a Believer

In celebration of Andy Mineo's new album, "Uncomfortable", I've decided to write a post commemorating the launch. One particular song on the album stood out to me, and I want to take the time to talk about why it resonated. The song, as the title of this post says, is called "Make Me a Believer". The lyrics are as follows:

"Why is it so hard to love you?

Why is it so hard to love you?

You make it easy, but I make it hard

Oh my God

You take the blame when I don't deserve it, no, no

I break your heart, then I do it again, do it again

You give me patience when I keep you waitin'

I don't know why you call me your favorite, oh

"Are we for real or not? (tell me, tell me)

For real or not? (tell me, tell me)

Are we for real or not, I gotta know

(Tell me, tell me)

You're givin' me all you have

You saw me without my mask

But I can't change my past

So can you promise this gon' last

Make me a believer

Cause all I've ever seen is pain

Make me a believer

Promise me I'm not the same

Make me a believer

They tell me seein' is believin'

But all ever saw was the schemin'

All I ever saw was the people that I loved

They was gettin' up and leaving, throwin' peace signs

What's up, what's up, aye

What's up lately?

How did you love me?

You stayed when I went buggin'

You stayed

It's messin' with my head now, it's messin' with my head

Why you haven't left now?

I still can't guess, tell me"

The reason this song speaks to me is because it made me realize something; even as believers, we still have moments of unbelief, in which we question, doubt, and wonder if this God we worship really exists. Andy in the song takes the perspective of someone who can't wrap his head around God's love and grace. In many ways, I think we can all relate to this message, because while we know why God sent his son, why Jesus died, and why God loves us so, it's another thing to fully comprehend all of that. If you were a Christian that grew up in the church, that message was probably bashed over your head numerous times until we're desensitised to it. We might hear something groundbreaking from the gospel, but then we shelve it away, and miss the message, and therefore the point. If that's the angle we take in our life, of course we're going to miss a lot of the message. Do we really believe what we read? Or do we just take it and run with it because that's what we're suppose to do as Christians? Can we believe what God has done for us? In the midst of pain, of hurt, of destruction? Or do we shake our fist at the skies when the world turns on us?

And even when we're the problem, God doesn't leave us. I used to think that when I was deep in sin, God would leave me, and I would have to claw my way back to Him. But I know that this is a lie. I will never be able to understand how a perfectly holy God can perfectly love a sinner like me, and never leave me.

Lord, I pray that you make me a believer.

"Now Faith is being sure of what we hope for, and confident of what we cannot see."
-Hebrews 11:1