A web log by Ben Makuh


Book Reviews


Why don't I get it?

One-half of a decade
 Spent walking with Christ,
 Striving to obey,
 And abiding in the Vine.

10 years before that
 When I fearfully agreed.
 I didn't want hell-
 The reward for dirty deeds.

Frightened, I obeyed
 Except the times when I didn't.
 I felt much better than the rest
 As they wallowed in their sins.

Once a month or so,
 when an awful thought would surface:
 "I am not any better..."
 I'd stuff it back where it'd be missed.

I wanted to condemn
 All the filthy flagrant wretches,
 The culture that I live in,
 And Satan's evil clutches.

I wanted to escape
 The overpowering feeling-
 That the sin I saw out there
 Was also inside me.

When I finally came to grips
 That Christians still sin too,
 My hope finally flickered out
 And I had to face the truth.

I was horrified to find
 I couldn't save me from myself.
 No matter how hard I tried
 I couldn't keep my sins on the shelf.

It was terrible to find
 That I'd have to trust in Christ,
 And to really truly live
 I'd have to really truly die.

But the "I" that'd have to die
 Was not the deepest "I" I'd found.
 There was a deeper "me" inside
 That could barely make a sound.

Suddenly the tension
 Between my body and my soul,
 The things I wanted badly
 Were puncturing the hull.

I knew I wanted Christ
 Like the river wants the sea,
 But the broken me replied,
 "We can revel in this disease!"

I knew that he was right-in part-
 Because the flesh _does_ satisfy.
 The flesh has given me comfort,
 While God only _promises_ eternal life.

Why don't I get it? WHY don't I get it?
 Why are my affections set in mud?
 Why can't I be amazed
 In the presence of such love?

My fickle, wandering heart,
 Like a willy-nilly dog,
 Keeps chasing its tail
 Rather than following the song.

Jesus pulls me from the muck
 But my flesh wants to go back,
 I break free and stain my conscience
 In the mired, stenchy black.

I fall upon my knees
 Repenting once again,
 While in my heart I'm pleading,
 "Can you make me not love sin?"

I wonder if it's me,
 If I'm more broken than the rest.
 They all seem quite able
 Or maybe just more blessed.

Can I somehow find a way
 To no more bow down to my sin?
 Can I someday worship God
 And hear his voice above the din?

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