From Out of the Sand

At the Georgia Men's Advance retreat weekend in 2010, I felt led by the Holy Spirit to write a book. I consider myself the last person qualified to do so, but in obedience I began. The burden never left me, and I started writing poetry not knowing what I would write or where the words would come from. I discovered that when I put the pencil to paper apart from the world, I found something that I never dreamed finding. My eyes became open to who I am in the Lord. I also learned that I can trust Him as I take each step even when I do not fully understand. This can only occur through obedience to God's word, praying, and following His Spirit.

The following is an example of the leading of the Holy Spirit in my life that has led to confessional poetry. It is my hope and prayer that you will be encouraged and comforted in your walk with the Lord by my journey.

The Drowning

My first grandson, Tyler, has had a special place in my heart even before he was born, because I knew he would never really know what having a true father was about. I did my best to be that father figure for him. It was best my daughter did not marry the father, because he was always in trouble and was very abusive toward her. One day I was on my knees, pulling a few weeds growing between the wall and the pool walkway. Tyler was about two and a half years old, and came up to me wearing his bib overalls. I told him, "Hi," smiled, and turned back to finish my task. Tyler must have gone right to the pool ladder and climbed down into the pool. Mind you, I was not four feet away, and he never made a sound. When I turned around, he was gone from sight. As I stood, I saw him underwater, his arms out to the side, like he was on the cross. His eyes were wide open and starring upward. The pool jet pressure was slowly pushing him out to the deep end of the pool. I will never forget the look of him underwater. I quickly snatched him out with one hand on the bib overalls, and he started breathing immediately. I told you this story because I was drowning in depression, failing too often to pray and read the Bible. This made me feel so isolated at church. All the words sounded like someone talking through water. The message could not get through, and I felt untouchable. The church had rented the movie theater to see The Passion of the Christ, and to be honest, I was cold as a stone and unmoved. I did pray some, and God answered most of the few I prayed. Yet I could not get back, because I knew I had failed and felt so dirty. I could not get to the feeling and knowledge that I was forgiven and remained depressed and isolated.

As time passed, I finally got to the point I heard Satan in my spirit during a Wednesday night service tell me, "Your religion does not work." The church was in search of a new pastor, and I had made up my mind that if he did not work out, I was done with the act and quitting church for good. At another Wednesday night service, Sister Etah Garcia was speaking, and I knew it was for me. It spoke to my naval sense about not jumping from the ship and to hold on. When the new pastor arrived, I was still suffering. I said a prayer when I was alone in my chair. I became silent and then I heard the Spirit say to me "I hear your cry." He then brought to my mind the image of my grandson in the pool and how he looked. I knew I was no different in my drowning in depression, hoping for somebody to snatch me up so I could breathe and hear again. The pressure of life was pushing me away, and I was in silence at church and at home, slowly heading out to the world. Hearing the Holy Spirit say He heard my cry was the pulling me up from drowning that I had longed for. I needed to be rescued. How many people are drowning inside the church, unable to hear the message because they have sinned or they can't make the connection? They are underwater, with life's current pushing them out the church doors. And they never make a sound. They have spiritually drowned right in front of us, and they leave the church feeling like there is no hope for them. I can only tell you what it feels like. Make a connection with people. They need to know the Lord hears their cry as well. "I heard your cry." That was all He said, but I can't tell you what that has done for me. To know He has spoken to rescue me and that I do have his ear is very dear to me. I know I will never be alone again, and it is more than enough! Here is one of the Poems the Holy Spirit had me to write.

Sealed

Life worn, sin torn, my faith flowed away.

I failed to yield, I failed to pray

For the Lord to seal this jar of clay.

Nor did I pause to read His letter,

To quench my thirst and to know Him better.

Cracks in my clay appeared, water began to flow.

Little by little, where did it go?

Lost and alone, empty as could be.

I returned to the source, the one who died for me.

He sealed my heart, cleansed me of sin.

A fountain now flows, He placed within.

Where there were once only drops, a river begins.

With a source so abundant, I now overflow.

Spilling out for Him, He knows where it goes.