There comes a point

when fasting,

there's a point

when you become

the fast

when in solitude,

there's a point

when you carry solitude

through a crowd

when silent,

there's a point

when words leak

out through actions

when worshiping,

there's a point

when you become

the song

— Tony Mujica © 2012

Tag Team Poets

I had a wonderful opportunity to write a poetic response to my Serbian friend, Jelena Bogdanovich’s poem through Facebook. I sensed what it’s like to do back-to-back poetry, much like wrestlers do with tag-team wrestling. I am reminded of tag-team evangelism on the streets of Chicago years ago with friends. We would take turns, have a go at it, and then, pass the mic on to the next person, who would add from where the last person left off.

It seems to me that Tag Team evangelist poets wrestle with God, but with words.

Here is Jelena’s poem:


JAZZ FOR THE BONES OF THE LOCUST TREE

You're the rain that falls on my bones
Of the locust tree;
A pearl, on my most fragile joints.
So, You are playing jazz
On Your giant contrabass
With the percussions
Of rain
In the background
You know very well
I would not believe You a word
Today, so you come as a music
Soaking my ground:
"Girl,
I'm not ashamed of your humanity..."

 
And here is mine along with one of my paintings:


HORSE CAT TREE


expressed jazz moans

in soulful tones

through loans from various sources

like trees,

like cats,

and horses

 
the bassist plays with

expressive ways

a bow across the strings

and the wooden bass sings

the chambered cry

of a felled tree

no wonder why

but i feel free

at cost of

horse, cat, tree

more like a wail

it weeps without fail as

horsehair bow brings

sounds so low

from catgut strings

causing my heart's glow

— Tony Mujica © 2012

The Bassist
(Portrait of Eberhard Weber)
Oil on Canvas
14" x 18"

SHAMAR, QUANTUM, AND BRIDAL FABRIC

This post developed in response to a Facebook discussion about the Movie, "August Rush" and a new Fox TV show, "Touch". Touch is on Thursday nights, right after national idolatry (Oops, American Idol).

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

There's an attraction that people have to things that bind us together. Anarchy doesn't work. Interdependence does. Movies and TV shows, (like August Rush and Touch) that explore the inter-connectedness of Man tap into this.


It's written in creation. It's written in God's word. God told Adam to "shamar" (keep, maintain, guard) His garden. Concerning Abel's disappearance, Cain with misunderstanding, responds to God, "What am I, my brother's Shamar?"


I think God's silent answer was, "Yes, Cain, you are!"


God desires that the walls that separate us fall to the ground. He wanted Jonah to go to a foreign people to bring warning. Jonah eventually complied to the Lord's pressing.


God wants us to care for each other, no matter if it's your neighbor or some foreigner on the other side of the globe.


The evidence is there.


QUANTUM
Even science is arriving at the conclusion. Quantum physics speak loud about the subject - the relation of things. Is it a wave or a particle? Tiny components seem to know what the scientist is wanting. They "cooperate" with the scientist and become what is expected in the tests. It messes the researcher up.


In their studies, they find that two waves or particles in relation to the same stimulus or source, no matter how far apart, react the same way. A butterfly flaps it's wings on the other side of the planet. It affects us here on this side.


Angels and saints in worship before God fall down before Him. They cast their crowns before Him. Though the weight of His presence is on them, they all get up for another round, soon to be flattened again.


We worship in this reality. We find ourselves buckling in the knees before God, and down we go for the count. We get up again. It happens again.


I think that this happens in sync with Heaven. We (us here and those in Heaven) fall down together. We act in Quantum. We, in both realities, behave the same way in the presence of the same stimulus or source, God.


The next time you feel the compulsion to fall down during worship, it may be that your loved one in Heaven, has just fallen down before Him, also.


You see, this inter-relationship even goes beyond this globe.


BRIDAL FABRIC
There is thread that connects God's Kingdom Folk. (see a vision concerning this at “The Shower Of Gold Coins"). This thread that binds us is not unique to us. It was God's design from the get-go. This is why movies like August Rush are so popular. They address a cry, a longing, to love each other and the existence of a personal entity who moves us toward each other.


God made Man to love. Love in the vertical aspect (loving God), and love in horizontal aspect (loving each other). We also are made to be loved (in both aspects as well).


God sees us in many ways. He sees us individually. He sees us corporately. He listens to our weeping when we come to Him in brokenness. He views a group as one. He'll even refer to an entire nation as one person.
That thread that binds His people is laced with love that covers it like wax. He sees us beyond national origin, race, and identities that separate. Jesus holds us together (read the section starting at Colossians 1:15). His love binds us. We really are our brother's Shamar.

A Heart No One Else Could Open

by Tony Mujica

Sometimes the encounter you pray for isn’t quite what you expected.

---

I saw my heart lying there in the middle of the throneroom. Its beat was constantly throbbing; it pulsed with life.

Engraved upon it was this:

"No room for lesser lovers."

It had a seal upon it. No one could open it's seal — no one, that is, except One.

Lo and behold, I heard the voice of the Word. The lone heart on the floor looked like it was wanting to move. If it had legs it would have ran toward the Voice. It became animated after hearing the resounding Word.

"Henani! Here I am, the One who shuts so no one opens and opens so no one shuts!"

My heart pounded so forcefully it looked like someone was in it trying to punch his way out. Indeed, it had already succeeded in running on ahead of me to meet the Lover of my soul.

With scarred hands, He picked up my heart. I expected Him to pull out a set of keys from His pocket. He did not. Instead He held the heart in His left hand and with His right hand He lined up the hole of His palm scar over the center of the heart seal latch.

My heart opened. Dim light escaped from within it. It was dim, but at least it was lit. It was like putty in His hands, waiting for reshaping.

"Come forth!", He boomed with authoritative command. A wisp of amber light trailed in spiral pattern out from the heart. At first I thought it was smoke but no smoke could burn so bright. The light was alive. It seemed to move with a mind of it's own. It broke from It's initial spiraled release and, in improvised trail, it made it's way to its' source, the one called "the Light of men".

My light moved toward His feet, and paused as if it were bowing before Him. Then it wrapped around His legs and caressed Him like a kitten brushing one's leg. Then the amber continued wrapping around the rest of his frame. His own light, which already was ablaze, seemed to grow even brighter. His smile broke into deep laughter. I think He knew what I was thinking.

"Yeshua, my Lord, I never thought it would look like this. You're brighter. Is it really because of my light?

"Yes, Yes. I released the light of life that I deposited in you, years ago. You have been through a lot of adversity. I have been releasing grace to shine in stages throughout your walk with me. I grow brighter because you, as overcomer, give me glory."

I looked into those eyes , so full of love and acceptance. I did not want to blink. My body was at the point of collapse, but His eyes seemed to hold me from falling.

"Now, I have fanned the flame of passion needed to run the course of your remaining years. I did not remove the scar tissue around your heart. The evidence of your wounding remains, just like the scars on my own hands."

I thought I would be healed in my body. Before I could think a disappointed thought, He told me, "Your healing is not here today. Go on with faith and continue to please me. For now, My grace will do."

"I breathe life into you, so that you can love others with a purer love. That is your best weapon against the kingdom of fear. Be filled with my Agape and guard your heart to stay tuned into Me."

The amber smoke light trail unwrapped itself from Yeshua as I continued to stare at my Jesus. I blinked and Jesus left the room. My heart was no longer on the floor. It paced within my chest. I felt so alive and reassured. I thought that it was odd because I was sure I was getting healed this time. I can't explain it, but I could continue on now, with all the physical pain, even with all the disappointing heartache of life. Shalom peace rested on me.

I found myself back in my bed. Knowing that someday I will be healed.

— Tony Mujica ©2012

Tina Guo music video - Apres Un Reve - YouTube

Tina Guo music video - Apres Un Reve - YouTube:


This video touches me in a deep way. Tina's Cello squeezes my heart.

The puppetry is amazing. At 03:14 is a prophetic picture of the position of the humble servant before God with heart below head. Heart below head happens in the lowest bow of deep worship. It's here that one lines up with God. Our mind gets out of the way and lets the heart commune with the One beyond comprehension, whose ways are higher than ours.

The Man, The Sponge

Sometimes words form inside me, short and to the point.

 

The Man, The Sponge

(Ode to Sponge Bob)

 

the man was squeezed
and worship poured out
victory triumphs
the common pout

the sponge recharged
with holy essence
soaked in bath
of Godly presence

where and when for
his next squeeze?
braced for pain
but Lord is pleased

- Tony Mujica © 2012

A Life Parenthetical

A Life Parenthetical
     

My life is in parentheses.
Just like a break within the breeze.
Or whirlwind's interior, the eye of a hurricane
Is it of a madness or of the sane?

I seem to query, but really don't doubt.
Heaven has purpose, that's why this came about.
Poised at standstill, a button pressed pause
Contemplative focus, in place, the noble cause.

Parenthetical breaks away from the text.
Selah, pondering, "What does comes next?"
Training necessary, nowadays, to endure.
To avoid the fall, for remaining pure.

Pumping iron for spiritual muscle,
To say yes to Him, amidst the great tussle.
Busy, busy, in beholding, while still,
An ironic path to getting my fill.

You really don't owe me an explanation
But you wooed me by Your book-o-Revelation
A meeting place at Chapters Five and Four
You know my excitement beyond that door.

A beauty realm - such exquisite detail,
Your Glory makes all else seem pale.
Can't pledge my loyalty unto another.
To do so only means lesser lover.

But when, Great Author, will you decide
To activate my journey, end pause to my ride?
Getting back to main text is not my decision.
You see the big pic with exacting precision.

For you are the Author of this wisp of a life.
You bring resolution, sense made of my strife.
Settled not just in the role of survivor,
You penned that my life should be, rather, the thriver.

 

— Tony Mujica © 2011