Sweet Ruin

by Tony Hoagland

Maybe that is what he was after,
my father, when he arranged, ten years ago
to be discovered in a mobile home
with a woman named Roxanne, an attractive,
recently divorced masseuse.


He sat there, he said later, in the middle
of a red imitation-leather sofa,
with his shoes off and a whiskey in his hand,
filling up with a joyful kind of dread-
like a swamp filling up with night,


-while my mother hammered on the trailer door
with a muddy, pried up stone,
then smashed the headlights of his car,
drove home,
and locked herself inside.


He paid the piper, was how he put it,
because he wanted to live,
and at the time knew no other way
than to behave like some blind and willful beast,
-to make a huge mistake, like a big leap


into space, as if following
a music that required dissonance
and a plunge into the dark.
That is what he tried to tell me,
the afternoon we talked,
as he reclined in his black chair,
divorced from the people in his story
by ten years and a heavy cloud of smoke.
Trying to explain how a man could come
to a place where he has nothing else to gain
unless he losses everything. So he
louses up his work, his love, his own heart.
He hails disaster like a cab. And years later,
when the storm has descended
and rubbed his face in the mud of himself,


he stands again and looks around,
strangely thankful just to be alive,
oddly jubilant- as if he had been granted
the answer to his riddle,
or as if the question


had been taken back. Perhaps
a wind is freshening the grass,
and he can see now, as for the first time,
the softness of the air between the blades. The pleasure
built into a single bending leaf.


Maybe then he calls it, in a low voice
and only to himself, Sweet Ruin.
And maybe only because I am his son,
I can hear just what he means. How
even at this moment, even when the world


seems so perfectly arranged, I feel
a force prepared to take it back.
Like a smudge on the horizon. Like a black spot
on the heart. How one day soon,
I might take this nervous paradise,
bone and muscle of this extraordinary life,
and with one deliberate gesture,
like a man stepping on a stick,
break it into halves. But less gracefully


than that. I think there must be something wrong
with me, or wrong with strength, that I would
break my happiness apart
simply for the pleasure of the sound.
The sound the pieces make. What is wrong


with peace? I couldn't say.
But, sweet ruin, I can hear you.
There is always the desire.
Always the cloud, suddenly present
and willing to oblige.

Sundays, Pipes, and Baseball

On a Sunday like today when the blue sky is lit by a gentle sun. When I'm outside with my shirt off mowing the lawn while my chickens and ducks follow behind burying their beaks and bills into the clippings. I think back to when I was a teenager in California. Full with rage and envy that my stepfather would make me stay home every weekend to mow and trim and sweep and anything else he could think of to keep me exhausted, safe at home and out of trouble.


I think about how I'd sneak inside through the back door every hour or so just to feel the air conditioning and grab some water. Lingering by the kitchen faucet quietly, trying to seem occupied while secretly watching as he sat, slumped in his 60's in that black leather chair. Meticulously cleaning each of his 14 pipes while straining to hear the Padres play on a beaten television across our family room.


And maybe because I'm older now with my own home or maybe because I slept in today with the windows open. Or maybe just because I had a nice quiet dinner last night in my garden... whatever reason; I find myself wishing I still knew that old man.


I wouldn't mind finishing up out here in the yard then joining him inside just to hear him mutter curses into his scotch as another pipe gets pulled apart and I stand in the kitchen, sharing the last couple innings.

Strange Wind

“If the wind had been blowing the Devil this way, the Midnight could scarcely have grown more unholy.”  –Owen Meredith

Haven’t been talking to God much lately; mostly just watching and listening. Haven’t been writing much lately either. Back about 15 years ago I performed with a poet who later asked me what I thought of his work. In honesty I said, “You’re probably one of the best poetic writers I’ve ever met but your work is awful. You have all the words but nothing to say. You need to get out from your papers and live, fall in love with a tramp, split your head open, get some plot to your feelings." So that’s where I’ve been.

When I suddenly knew Christ I was there on the mountaintop but as we came down to the crowd of people I soon understood what it meant when scriptures says, "The Disciples kept to themselves and did not tell anyone at that time what they had seen" -Luke 9:36

Immediately, I was surrounded by believers who began to size me up and down like two-bit tailors ready to put me in a cheap suit. And as I looked around in my new church and my new circle of Christian friends I noticed they were all wearing the same ill fitted suits themselves. They all had this sort of clumsy religiosity with moral suggestions and behaviorism's that really reminded me of oppressed citizens in an occupied village.

Well I winced and jerked back. Not in faith but in action. Who are these shut-in’s and why are they treating me like this?, I thought to myself. I began hearing terms like, “We believers” and “Us” and "Them (non-believers)". It bothered me.

I just don’t think that an all loving God who created everyone would be passing out membership cards to us and not others. I have questions. Mature questions like, “Knowing that God reached out to me exactly the way I needed to be reached, wouldn't he also be willing to reach out to all creation in exactly the manner they need? Is that why we have so many religions? And, Isn’t God just as much in the bars and the parks and gyms on Sunday as he is in a Church? So why are these church folk criticizing their brothers in bars, parks and gyms? Why are they shunning others who pray to God under a different denomination? So after falling asleep a few times during the sermons in a sun vacant church and a few minor outbursts of my own I left and headed home for the remainder of my Sundays.

Then suddenly I was out. I was no longer being treated like the newest member to the Kappa Kappa Christo. Now I was an adulterer of the faith. And I won’t drag on with the emails, instant messages and texts I’ve received but I will include a few of the terms that were sent my way… “Self-Centered, Vain, Arrogant, Uncensored, Non-Biblical, (and my personal favorite) Someone who feels he doesn't need us anymore.” When did I need the crowd at the base of the mountain? Are they my Christ? Did Christ leave me in their protective care? No, my Christ is with me. Not because I’ve earned his fellowship but because he is with us all.

So I’ll keep this letter short. I’m not real happy with Christians right now. My faith in God is solid because the Lord has chosen to make it so. My faith in his children however (me included) is shaky at best.

Alright, a little Bob then I'm off to bed..

To be forgiven

To me at least, it’s not a question of how we ought to forgive; there are endless ways to forgive. There are more ways to forgive than there are reasons- Soft and beautiful poetic ways- Loving melodic and uplifting ways- Simple ways- Even silent ways. No, how we forgive is not our challenge. Our challenge is in the question, ‘Why would anyone accept our forgiveness?’

It’s as though a violent quake has torn the ground open between two persons and so a bridge is built by one of them. But will the other person cross? Well, why would they? I have forgiven many, extending many bridges. I have built bridges with letters, with gifts, and with poems. I have built bridges with slight smiles, gentle whispers and compassion. I’ve built bridges upon bridges on top of one another. All in hope and in prayer that the person who I’ve been separated from will finally accept and trust and cross and let us be rejoined again. Yet no one comes. Why? Because I am prideful and a fool and I have misunderstood forgiveness.


Watch as I stand at this side of life, waiting, for those I’ve forgiven to come. Stand with me here in my self-reliance staring into the distance, wondering, “When will they see that I’ve let go of their attacks and allowed them to love me again?” as though they were waiting for my permission.


The truth is that I have the need to forgive, not that they have the need to receive it. I have the need to forgive because they are those who I most need to love.


Yes, a tear has happened which I must mend. A bridge must be built, a dozen bridges by my own hands. Then I myself must run. I must cross that connection. I must race at a full sprint rushing to the one I’m separated from. To embrace them, to kiss them, to lift their wrists to my own sides and hold their arms around me. This, to me, is forgiveness- to run and lift up and hold the person who’s hurt me until my strength finally gives and I collapse at their feet.


When (even if in the silence of their bewilderment at me) I am able to say to them, “I’m sorry. I’ve been hurt. In my pride, I’ve allowed myself to think I deserved your love and your friendship. I am not deserving of it, I am blessed by it. And I am blessed to be allowed to love you in return. Please let me set down this pain between us and love you once again.”

The Loved of God

I have intimacy issues. Namely, I've always had trouble feeling Love.


It's extremely hard for me to love someone and it's even harder to feel anyone's love for me. This is a major obstacle in my life that I've never fully learned to deal with.


Little by little though, I am finally being led with small, childlike steps into the warmth of a genuine Love as I gently trust and accept Gods' love for me through Jesus.


It's a very slow but pleasantly overwhelming experience.


Here's a couple verses and an excellent sermon that helps me when I'm feeling dead or disconnected inside. Because I know there are many, many more of you who, like me, still live with the cold lifeless heart we were born with. So I hope this helps to breathe a little of Gods' warm breath into you as well.


I will make with them an everlasting covenant, that I will not turn away from doing good to them. And I will put the fear of me in their hearts, that they may not turn from me. I will rejoice in doing them good, and I will plant them in this land in faithfulness, with all my heart and soul.
-Jeremiah 32:40-41

..we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, now powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
-Romans 8:37-39

the called of Christ- the loved of God pt 2

-John Piper, Romans 1:6-7

Oh Holy Night

Gen 22, pt 2- Parallels between Isaac and Jesus

It would be interesting to find out exactly how many parallels there are between Isaac at the alter and Jesus at the cross.


Here's a Jon Courson video sermon that lists about thirty.

Gen 20- Jon Courson

A Dangerous Calling

Gen 22- Training and Testing through Trials and Temptations

Abraham was already 100 years old when God finally allowed Isaac to be born to him and his wife Sarah. But this wasn’t God’s first act in Abraham’s life. Abraham had already been in training with God through many trials and temptations before Isaac ever came.


At 75 years old, God commanded Abraham to leave his fathers land (12:1). Once in Shechem God appeared to Abraham and said, “To your offspring I will give this land (Canaan)” (12:7). Later in Egypt, the Lord saved Sarah and Abraham from Pharaoh (12:17). Then again, God was with Abraham when he rescued his nephew Lot from the four kings (14:14).


On his way back from battle with the four kings Abraham met Melchizedek, the “Priest of God”, who immediately pronounced, “Blessed be Abram by God most high!” (14:19) After all of this, God then met with Abraham in a fiery ceremony and made a formal covenant saying, “Look toward heaven and the number of stars, if you are able to number them. So shall your offspring be.” (15:5)


All these are only a few examples scripture gives to show us how through year after year God was continually present with Abraham while training Abraham like a cadet in boot camp. Abraham was learning to listen, learning to trust, and learning to follow orders.


So finally when in Genesis 22:1 scripture says, “After these things God tested Abraham” I’m now able to stand inside the story with Abraham and say, “Yes! Let’s see how all God’s training has shaped us. Let’s show that we are loyal and faithful to our King.”


So God said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” (22:2) And as you can read yourself, Abraham obeyed flawlessly.


In fact, scripture doesn’t speak of any emotional response from Abraham at all. It simply says, “So Abraham rose up early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and his son Isaac.” (22:3)


I love this story. I love it because when I step back and look at Abraham’s whole life it helps me to get a perspective of God’s work in my own life. As I heard one commentator say, “God is not rushing in to solve our problems; he’s carefully leading us through them.”


And now I can understand that I am in training by God.


That through every trial God has been with me. In fact, every trial in itself was carefully crafted by God. I can begin to see how every trial has acted as a sort of obstacle course through my past in which God himself has led me- refining me with fire, equipping me with strength, maturing me with confidence, mentoring me with wisdom- All of which I’ll need to overcome the trials I’ll be led to face today.


And sometimes even now when I still feel overwhelmed, I just picture Abraham at the base of that mountain with his son. Then I imagine myself standing at the base of a mountain God has led me to.


And I think to myself, “This is not a random mistake. This is not a punishment. I didn’t take a wrong turn. God hasn’t let me get lost. This exact mountain is in front of me on exactly the day God planned. This mountain is the reason I’ve been in training up to this point.”


So in sharing this with anyone reading I would offer this bit of advice- When you’re slammed up against a seemingly overwhelming challenge. When you can’t see around a problem in your own life and question how you even got there. When you wonder why God hasn't “rushed in.” Stop it.


Stop wailing and crying how undeserved it all seems. That’s like begging God to take the mountain away. Instead, show your reverence. Cover your mouth with your hand. Gaze at the immensity and awesomeness of this challenge. Take a night, set up camp at its base. And as you lay on your back in the dark silence staring up at this forbearing trial, reflect on all the challenges in life you have already faced and been led through to reach this point.


Reflect on all the times you thought you wouldn’t get through. Reflect how many times in the past God carried you even as you distrusted him. Then get some rest. And when you wake up early the next morning, give thanks to God for this and every trial. Then start climbing.




Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. -James 1:2-4

Trust our fall into Jesus

click below-
Trust-Fall

Gen 21- Ishmael and Isaac

After listening to seven hours of sermons from four different teachers, the best lesson I can grasp concerning the split in Abraham's lineage between Isaac and Ishmael simply comes directly from our Apostle Paul in Galatians 4-

Tell me, you who desire to be under the law,

do you not listen to the law?

For it is written that Abraham had two sons,

one by a slave woman and one by a free woman.

But the son of the slave was born according to the flesh,

while the son of the free woman was born through promise.

Now this may be interpreted allegorically:

these women are two covenants.

One is from Mount Sinai,

bearing children for slavery;

she is Hagar.

Now Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia;

she corresponds to the present Jerusalem,

for she is in slavery with her children.

But the Jerusalem above is free,

and she is our mother.

For it is written,

“Rejoice, O barren one who does not bear;

break forth and cry aloud, you who are not in labor!

For the children of the desolate one will be more

than those of the one who has a husband.”

Now you, brothers, like Isaac, are children of promise.

But just as at that time he who was born according to the flesh

persecuted him who was born according to the Spirit, so also it is now.

But what does the Scripture say?

“Cast out the slave woman and her son,

for the son of the slave woman shall not

inherit with the son of the free woman.”

So, brothers, we are not children of the slave

but of the free woman. -Galatians 4:21-31

Christmas at Sea

(Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, arranged by Sting)

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;

All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;

All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,

For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;

But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard.

So's we saw the cliff and houses and the breakers running high,

And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;

The good red fires were burning bright in every longshore home;

The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;

And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;

For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)

This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,

And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.

And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,

Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;

And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,

To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.

Gen- 20, When Unbelievers are More Moral than Believers

After my first year in community college I was invited to join the honor society. I had a 4.0 GPA while registered with 12 credits for both semesters which meant I was "worthy” to be their member.
And I knew it was childish. I knew it was only a community college where even the average high school kid could’ve achieved the same grades with the same effort.


Never the less, I paid the small fee and in a crowded ceremony was given a dime-sized golden pin.


And even though a part of me still felt immature, I proudly wore that pin on the lapel of my Carhartt jacket everywhere I went. Simply put, it was a small symbol of my success. Seeing me wearing this symbol on campus or around town you could assume I had at least a moderate achievement of higher learning.


Well, a few years have passed since then. I never did graduate and the pin has long since been lost. So even now, I guess it’s proclamation was made useless. But still being a vain person who finds meaning and identity in wearing symbols I now wear a cross on a leather string around my neck.

There’s a difference though. Whereas the pin I wore was a symbol of my accomplishment, the cross I wear is not. In fact, it’s not a representation of me at all. Don’t even assume that by my display of this cross that I have by any means even earned the right to wear it. I have done nothing.
This cross is only a tribute to the act of Jesus Christ. It does not mean that I am a better person for wearing it. It does not mean I am honest, or compassionate, or trustworthy. It doesn’t even mean I’m Christian.


In fact, part of why I wear it is because I struggle in all of these areas. And it acts as a daily reminder in my reflection of all the things I am not and all the things Christ is.


Chapter 20 of Genesis deals with a similar issue. Abraham (God’s chosen) has once again been caught in a selfish distrust for God and fear for his own life. As a result, Abraham then lies to a non-believer while putting his wife’s life, his marriage, and his lineage in jeopardy.


It’s a good lesson which teaches me how a servant of God can be prideful, deceitful, and unloving. And how a trusting, non-believer was nearly punished for it.


I too need to remember that as a believer of God I am by no means of any better character than my non-believing brothers; that we as Christians do not have the moral high ground over all things. We are however, at best, open to a Godly correction.


So I guess my point is this- the cross I wear is not an honor society pin. It should not be assumed I have lived a Christ-like life worthy of it. It is however a symbol of the one who is Christ and my hope to be lead by him.


So let me not be self-righteous or shone any person when they’ve exposed me in my hypocrisy. I cannot assume that because they are an unbeliever or even of a different faith that they have no right to confront me. In fact, it may even be that God is using them to speak ever more boldly to me.


Here's an excellent video sermon by Jon Courson to carry us through the whole of Chapter 20:

Genesis 20- Abraham and Abimelech

Jon Courson

Undeserved Forgiveness

I think the absolute greatest gift you can give someone this holiday season is an Undeserved Forgiveness. Not because our enemy has finally changed their ways or repented or even apologized. But exactly because they have not. That through this free gift of unmerited forgiveness you have shared with them a glimpse of the eternal love of our living God. Here's some very honest quotes to think about as you make your Christmas Card list this year...


Forgiveness is me giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me. -Anonymous

Forgiveness is . . . accepting God's sovereign use of people and situations to strip you of self importance, and humiliate your self love. -Martha Kilpatrick

When we forgive evil we do not excuse it, we do not tolerate it, we do not smother it. We look the evil full in the face, call it what it is, let its horror shock and stun and enrage us, and only then do we forgive it. -Louis B. Smedes

Resentment is like a glass of poison that a man drinks; then he sits down and waits for his enemy to die.—Nelson Mandela when asked why he was not resentful for his imprisonment.

The glory of Christianity is to conquer by forgiveness. --William Blake

God's Unchanging Hand

When we sing our praises in Heaven

I just might be in the bluegrass section.