Monday, May 3, 2010

“He’s just like that.”

Table Mountain 086 It’s funny how our convictions shift. My journey to Kenya (most journeys actually) started with mixed emotions. Since my youth, and definitely since my turn to Christ, I have felt a sharp conviction to follow Christ’s command to go make disciples. My chronic interest in international peoples and travel have led me (along with my family) to investigate serving the Lord internationally. And yet, I distinctly remember, in the early days of my walk with the Lord, specifically requesting that I be excluded from service in Africa. Should have requested Hawaii, I suppose.

After receiving what has clearly shown itself to be God’s call to go to Kenya’s Rift Valley Academy, however, I have undergone some interesting changes in thought.  Initially, if I am being honest, my heart wrestled with this lie, “I don’t really want to go to Africa, but God’s probably going to send me there! That’s just how he is.”

I think I viewed God as a kind of missional dispatcher, sending his servants out like New York cab drivers to whatever nasty neighborhood that needed service, and not certainly to where the poor servant wanted to go! The simple fact that Laurel and I were sensing a call to RVA proved that in order to serve, you had to serve where you’d rather not be. To truly serve God is to suffer, right?

And yet, God clearly knows me much better than I do myself. Now I am experiencing a new and unique twist in my persisting negativism, “Now I really want to go, and God’s probably not going to send me. That’s just how He is.” The irony is, of course, that God is sending me not only exactly where He wants me, but ultimately, to exactly where I want to be!  Even if I never get to go . . . excuse me?!

God can transform even the most stubborn, confused, irrational, oppositional hearts into ones that desperately crave His love, His leading, His discipline, His testing, and His grace.  Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! (2 Corinthians 5:17) But the old is slow to go! I still think I know what I want – what is funny is that God still knows better! Even if I think I know what I want, where I want to go, what I want to do – God, in his mercy, is patient and leads me out of the darkness of my own kingdom into His perfect one.  I’d  rather be there, truthfully, and it is only fear that fools me into thinking otherwise. But God’s got that one on his to do list too, I imagine!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

A Poem for my Daughter

For My Daughter, Before



A little girl has got it hard
as pressure mounts to leave her scarred
Stomach clenched, with tightened jaws
She tries so hard to hide her flaws
But what if she could only see
the way God meant for her to be
with beauty hidden deep within
Not found in clothing, hair, nor skin
A vibrant life, a call to live
with blessings rich and love to give
A waiting hope, a heart of flame,
The precious gift in girls contained
© 2008 Karl Becker

A Zombie Sonnet

Backyard Zombie Horror
My soccer ball flew o’er the neighbor’s fence.
Alarmed, I followed quickly in pursuit.
By my trespass I meant no offense,
My imprint on his yard would be minute.
Into the padded sod I deftly leapt
To where no soccer ball appeared to be.
Under a sickly hemlock tree I crept
Believing underneath it I might see.
Instead a hand, with hanging flesh, outreached
And clamped upon my wrist with clasping claws
To drag me terror-stricken from my feet
And draw me, writhing, to its gruesome jaws.
     Thus with its venom my blood was imbued
     A monstrous afterlife begins anew.
                          
                             © 2010 Karl Becker

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

A Zombie Quatrain

Zombie Conversion – A Quatrain Poem by Karl Becker

A telltale sound pursues me as
I trip along the passageway
A shambling, scuffing raspiness
that chills and turns my nerves to fray
Slowly pursued by too many to count
A terror that sours my stomach with bile
I turn unprepared, yet determined to mount
an offense that will purchase some distance, some miles
Yet my turnabout yields only one or two kills
as my weapon misfires, then refuses to work
I drop it and run, bitter agony spills
from my throat as I scream, my horror uncorked
To my wrist is attached a revenant dead
By his teeth which have given me that which I fled
My fate is now sealed, the infection is spread
No longer I run as my deep wound is bled
My systems arresting, my heart skips a beat

A gradual stillness its progress complete
This death of undeath, a looking glass life
Autonomous ambulant primitive strife
My one aim to feed on the living remains

Of that elusive essence that Mankind retains
Society gone, universe to myself
I wander the earth overflowing from hell