For the Average Circle-Walker
by Tim D Livingston
May I be a little pretentious and call myself a prophet?
or at least have you hear me like I'm Old Testament fire
wearing modern day attire.
No forget it, I'm not going to beg anymore.
I will speak and let it be what it will be
and believe He said at least some of these things to me.
How I wish it was more eloquent, worthy of being canonized.
How often the people of God wallow in nonsensical verbiage
and say it came straight from the source where His spoken words
resonate to the molecular core of every particle of matter.
Son nevermind the nonsense,
the generalization of common church ideas
broadcasted and accepted by those sitting down asleep.
Create words like well-aimed, handcrafted bullets
that pierce beyond surface tension with pointed honesty.
So that's where it started,
After too many days in a brain-washed bubble
playing games they say to play
walking in circles and creating elaborate mirages
that turn into churches and organizations
funded by the very people who believe in the shallow
meandering words of the blundering blind
until we're bored.
Ready for someone else's reinvention of the same wheel
in a different style.
And we'll stay.
Until we think we're filled.
Forty years seems about enough for the average circle-walker.
If we ever gather the courage to question the status quo,
to become what they said they wanted us to be
when they laid hands and prayed over our giftings that
may or may not fall in step with what they were thinking
or if it was just a moment they needed to fill
with more stale mirages to imitate a move of God,
to hold down their position in the desert sand
until the wind breathes onto the real fire that destroys
their false empires.
You wanted me to be prophetic as long as it didn't threaten your theatre.
But now that I am speaking you see the monster you have created.
Born of the wilderness and raised on a diet of locusts from the past
who ate everything I ever tried to grow,
thanks in part to you,
and I'll certainly accept my chunk of the blame too.
How could I let this madness go on?
They don't mind chasing images as long as they get paid
by those who learn to play the game
but cannot seem to break the chain.
Like Jesus we would tear this temple down and raise it in 3 days
and even do greater things.
But this one needs no more battering,
it needs to get moving.
For Egypt is still not that far behind.
And as for the Promised Land, well,
we still have a ways to climb.
It's not where the giants are that we need to spy.
It's the ones we live with on the inside.
It's the ones we pay to keep alive.
Author's Note: This is not directed towards any specific person or church. I draw on a vast variety of experiences for this particular exercise in writing. It is stream of consciousness writing that is meant to provoke thought and share a journey. If you feel I am out of line in any way or this is not constructive please let me know.
Posted on 07/12/2011
Copyright © 2023 Tim D Livingston