Husband.
Father.
PCA Pastor.
Slightly sarcastic.
Apt to laughter.

Anti-Psalm 137

By the poisoned well,
    we sat down and wept,
    longing for Eden.
On a decaying tree
    we hung our hopes.
For there our captors
    enticed us,
and our distorted loves rejoiced, saying,
    “Eat, drink, and be merry!” 

And so we celebrate,
    toasting death, drinking poison.
Forgetting life, 
    we banquet in the grave.
Amnesiac hearts, 
    foolishly seeking to numb the longing,
    pretending joy—
    drinking away what is most true about us.

Disordered loves twist us further in on ourselves,
    echoes of Eden fading in our ears,
    broken hearts oblivious to destruction.
But such is the path of hope,
    for twisted desires never satisfy
    and poison never nourishes.
Blessed is the One
    who drinks poisoned cup to the dregs,
    and bends twisted hearts straight!

Anti-Psalm 30

Anti-Psalm 138