Author: Wick

Husband, Father, Pastor, Missionary, Writer, Poet, Friend, reader, coffee enthusiast, hockey Wing-Nut, musical participator, etc...
Posted in Spoken Word

resurrection

Posted on by Wick


The dawn arrives, bursting through clouds which were
allowed their moment to shine, but now was time for revealing
All the healing now possible as Christ has become Lord
A sword piercing death right through the heart, a start of something
So much greater than the rebels had in mind
Those who thought they’d find themselves at head of table
Find the man born in a stable has now made all able to dine
On food and wine from an age which is to come
The only begotten Son, firstborn from among the dead
Crown of thorns scar still visible across His head
Reminders to we for whom He bled…of Love.

Love that submitted to the worst of our munitions
His mission finally fully revealed, All Creation healed
And we, sealed by the Spirit for a Kingdom now beginning
Done with sinning, and not looking forward to winning
But having won, sun still setting on a past we’re letting go
Nurtured seeds now grow in fields of promised land
Standing on the shoulders of those who’d come before
Great clouds witnessing not about some yonder shore
But this world transformed, where what we see is not the norm
But a storm of redemption, flooding all we’ve ever known
Kingdom seeds now fully grown and bearing fruit
Corrupted systems moot, blown away from stem to root

As New Creation takes its place even now
His whole life was spent showing us how not to bow
Any longer to the patterns of this world, He hurled His gravestone into
The middle of an ocean of status quo – rippling out tsunamis long ago
Peeling back the layers of facade, in a world creating its own god
And failing, still today to fill our deepest void, annoyed when we can’t
Be charged by our own devices, and our vices lead only to crisis
That reveal the price is too high for us to pay the cost
Nowhere to turn, we look again to the cross
We see a life laid down, and a crown not seeking to control
But seeking to take our pieces and make all things whole
Starting right now, right here, within your soul

Letting you know you’re known, and dearly Loved
And He’s less concerned with getting you “up above”
As letting you know, in Him, you’re enough
That Kingdom would come on earth as where He is
And helping others see this, is why you are now made new
Not just to do, but to be
One brought to New Life completely
One who is not only glad to Live
But quick to forgive, slow to anger
Quick to find reasons to welcome the stranger
One whose life flows from their King born in a manger
One who Loves instead of hating
One fully participating in proclamation of Life made New
Looking through the lens of resurrection
Not just some day to come
But revealed now, as all else is undone
We look to the Son, rising
Realizing in this world where so many seek to be thriving
His Kingdom has already begun arriving.

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Posted in Spoken Word, Uncategorized

At Lent’s End…

Posted on by Wick

Enjoy a read, or listen here… https://wickwaves.bandcamp.com/track/at-lents-end

As the final days of 40 pass by
So many start to wonder
As thunderheads don’t seem to show signs of clearing
Is celebration really nearing?
We feel like fasting has gone on for far longer than we signed up for
So sure that we had a choice in the matter
That to deny our selves would make Him gladder
Yet the passing of time starts to shatter the expectation
That there would be celebration simply because we marked the dates.
As if all fates were sealed, and it was up to us to have the Kingdom revealed
But we have not been healed as much as we’d perceived
At least, not a healing that is everlasting
For our fasting was not the type for which He’d asked
Tasked with something far greater than we’d known
To reveal His throne here at the footstool
To undo what cruel men had endeavored to establish in stone
Fruit grown from seeds sown in oppression
And in succession, we protected the status quo
But we know, and cannot pretend to be blind any longer
Knowing that His Love is stronger than any power we might obtain
Framed for better understanding – His Freedom comes demanding itself for all
Listen to the call from Isaiah – Is this not the fasting He Desires?
To inflame the fires of justice for those without a voice
To use our power of choice, our ability to go against the grains
And to loosen the chains of those still bound
To see those building on grounds of shifting sand, and give them foundation on which to stand
Tall – As those who saw their own freedom not only as something to celebrate, but something to proclaim, those given a new name, birthed as creation made new
The dew on the blades of resurrection morning as hearts are warming the air of longest nights
The lights are beginning to dawn from East to West, and “hashtag blessed” is no longer
What we seek – rather, the meek capture our heart because it beats with His
The one betrayed with a kiss, yet lovingly submitted – his head fitted with a crown
Meant to mark Him as defeated, now seated as the Lord
Debt we could never afford to wipe clean
And so obscene when we offered such pitiful amounts of grace to those who owe us
God, show us Your mercy.
Do not treat us as we treat our own brother, but may we discover within the arms of your embrace, the face of true compassion – love not just in words, but in action
We find in all these things, Easter brings reason once again for celebration
For every nation made up of humans being, humans seeing their weaknesses on full display
Again this year we say – Hosanna – Savior Save Us
How grave a situation we were in – grim, our only path
Grafted in to a covenant that came before
Tide returning to a shore we thought was gone but on further inspection
We see the coming of resurrection…

Posted in Different Thoughts, Uncategorized

A Woman of Prayer

Posted on by Wick

Sometime in the early-middle of my serving as one of the pastors in Decatur, Illinois, there was a woman who impressed me in the area of prayer. We were hosting an “All Night Prayer” at Moundford Free Methodist Church. We weren’t a giant congregation, and many people had other commitments, families to care for, or work that prevented them from coming. But we knew it was important, and so planned to spend most of the night in the sanctuary, or walking from room to room praying over the ministry that happened there and the lives/homes of those involved as they came to mind.

Confession: I’m a morning person. When I stay up late, I drift off easily unless I’m doing something active or with a lot of people. Suffice to say, I was challenged by my abilities to stay awake around 11:30pm as we slowly walked through the church, saying and whispering prayers that came to mind. Yet in the midst of these things, I was challenged all night long by the presence of this older woman, Velva, who was almost 100 years old and seemed like she’d just drank 2 Red Bulls of prayer. She had obviously drank deeply from the wells of God’s Love, and was living from a continued gratitude for all He had done in her life – and an urgent heart that wanted her family and friends to know this same hope and love she’d discovered.

As the years went forward, her heart and prayers never abated. Even when she stopped leaving her home as much, she would text me her prayers once in a while. She prayed for our family as we fought to bring our daughter home from the DRC. She prayed for our family as we decided to become missionaries. I remember visiting her not long after we made that decision, with our daughters at her home. She prayed with us, told us how much she loved Jesus, and showed us some of her paintings. She was not only an artist, she was worshiping actively by connecting to the creative heart of her creator. It was obvious that she had tapped into deep wells of His Love and life, and it just oozed out of her whenever you were able to connect.

At one point, she asked if she could paint a specific scene for us – and what we might want. Sarah and I thought for a while, and then described the kind of scene we’d love to have her put onto canvas for us. It wasn’t long before she messaged that her artwork was ready, and we should come pick it up. Of course it’s beautiful, inspiring, and very much as we’d described to her. On the back, she’d even written for us to remember “From Velva….Age 103”. What a beautiful gift, and it hangs in my office today.

Velva’s painting, along with the final text message she’d sent me.

As we went to Hungary, I made sure she understood we could still keep in touch. She would text me (thanks iMessage, for helping people stay connected on the other side of the world easily!) and ask how the ministry was going, how the family was doing, or just to tell me she was praying for my “sweet family”. I would try to send her pictures of natural beauty that reminded me of the nature scenes she painted. We both agreed – His creation was beautiful, and deserved to be paid attention to.

I never knew when her text messages might arrive, especially when we lived in Hungary. Because of the time difference, sometimes they’d arrive in the middle of the night for me. But I always smiled when I’d check my phone, and see all the heart emojis, praying hand emojis, and a few words to remind me our family was in her prayers, and asking me to affirm, “Isn’t the Lord good??” Yes, He is good, and His Love endures forever. Our frail human bodies, however, do not. It didn’t seem like it could ever happen, but on February 25th, 2023, Velva finally went home to be with Jesus fully. Now she is with the Father, waiting for the completion of all He has in store at New Creation.

I am so thankful for Velva. For her prayers, and for the ways she encouraged and loved our family – even from a distance. I want to encourage you – reach out to your missionaries, your overseas friends, and the people who come to your mind and heart. It doesn’t take much – just a few emoji’s and a reminder “You’re in my prayers today. Remember you are loved.” Know that you are loved yourself as well, and take a moment to notice the beauty of God’s creation – even if it takes a while to find it. It’s worth noticing.

I smile, imagining that perhaps God would hand Velva the paintbrush for some grand sunset, and whisper “Here…you do this one…”