Delighted Poetry

     Robert Frost once said, “A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.”  I absolutely love this quote, and find it fascinating, mostly because I am a poet, and partly because the concept sounds absolutely beautiful.  Whenever I read a poem, I start by smiling, then my heart surges when I begin to connect to the story or message or analogy.  Then something shifts, and my eyes squint as the lines begin to blur and I have to understand what is truly being said, and after thought, by the last stanza, I often have tears in my eyes and a song on my heart and the desire to write something of my own.  Because poetry is delightful and quite amazing in the sense that I can read a poem, in my own heart with my own perspective, sitting next to a person with a completely different story than the one I have; yet we can both be moved to tears.  One reason I love poetry is it allows people from different walks of life to be on the same page, on the same line, in their own lives.  And every time they can learn something from what they’ve read.  Poetry is wisdom and beauty tied with the bow of delight, I should think.  It all starts with delight.

     A few months ago I was lying in bed, not sleeping.  I had looked at the clock and it was three in the morning and I still hadn’t fallen asleep.  I think a lot, and so some nights I will barely sleep at all because of my thoughts—I suppose that is what happens when you are an introvert. However, when I do fall asleep, the sleep I get makes up for it—I always sleep deep enough to dream.  But this night was something different.

     It was mid-school year, a normal day and nothing out of the ordinary was happening in my life; however I desperately needed sleep.  But sleep wouldn’t come—my heart was excited. Yet it seemed as though I had nothing to be particularly excited about.  Nonetheless, I smiled into the darkness as I talked with God, and out of nowhere, I don’t even know what prompted me to say it, but I whispered aloud into the darkness of my room, “I am so excited.”

     You know that moment when you are sitting with a good friend or family member, someone who really knows you well and you say something without trying to be funny.  And for some reason whatever you said, or whatever your face looked like in that moment, it so reflected you, in an exclamation of endearment, your friend starts laughing, with the look that says, “Only you, my friend; only you”?  Hearing your friend’s laugh makes you giggle; slowly at first, wondering what was so funny; until you finally let go of your questions and just laugh—delighted to simply be in a joyful moment as this with someone close to you?

Well, that’s what it was like that one night I couldn’t sleep.

     I could almost hear God’s giggle—even now I have chills—it was a moment of pure joy.  Possibly one similar to when a child first sees snow, when someone suddenly realizes they are alive and everything seems new, at the exchange of vows between one and their love, the first smile of a newborn, a first kiss, the first breath of a baby—it was sweet, and it was intimate and true, because it happened between Him and I.  It was a moment of reflection in which, among the quietness of night, my childlike joy and silliness was open to Him at the foot of His throne.  It was beautiful. And pure and true. And it was one of those moments that I distinctly heard His voice upon my heart and what He said was, “I so delight in you.”

     Even now when I think back, my heart seems to remember that it has wings and it flutters at the sound of the King of Kings delighting in me.  That He molded me, crafted me; all to His liking.  That I am a handmade masterpiece, created by Him and for Him.

     Can you believe He delights in you, in me?  The God of the universe who has within His hands, creatures and the created, that are so much more interesting than me; things like the petals on a flower, the creatures of the deepest ocean, things with wings or things with multiple eyes, oxygen and water; tomatoes and piano keys—yet you and I are the ones He said He delighted in, in that moment.  It is astounding; and heart pounding. It makes me smile.

You and I are His delight.

     In Zephaniah chapter 3 it says that we are God's “great delight” and that He continually rejoices over us with singing.  His love for us is so great, that at the sound of it, He will quiet us at the magnitude of it.  Ephesians 2:10 declares, “We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”  The word workmanship actually translates in Greek to the word poiema, which is where we get our English word, “Poem.”

We are His poem.

     I wonder what the world would be like if each of us realized the power of what this means.  The joy of being loved by the One, true God; I wonder how that would change us.  To realize that we are valued, worthy and bought, purchased and treasured by Jesus, the Son of God.  That we are cherished and beloved; held and desired by the King of Heaven, the One, True God; we are wooed and desired and sung to through the whisper and the love of the Holy Spirit.  That we are His.  That we are His desire, and love; His perfect and cherished poem in whom He delights.

     This brings me back to the words of Robert Frost, “A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.”   This thought of Robert Frost’s did not pertain to the verse in Ephesians 2:10, however, I think it can be applied.  We are His delight, and when we realize this, we grow in wisdom.  To know God, to fear Him with a holy and awe-inspired fear, is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10).

     Yet so often I believe we are stunted in the fact that we truly are delighted in.  We profess that Jesus loves us, yet I wonder if we, on a daily basis, grasp what that love looks like—the extent of it.  His love isn’t just love that tolerates us.  On the contrary, it is a love that is so great, so wonderful, so lovely and perfect it completely and utterly delights in who you and I are.  So much so that Jesus Christ was nailed upon a cross in order to remain with us forever to continue the work He began.  He bled to give us, as His poetry, color and beauty to who He designed us to be.  That was His act upon the cross, save us in order to show us His delight and love for us; and therefore continue the good work He began in us.

     We have that love at our finger tips, yet we do not look deep enough in it to understand it.  Almost as if we are driving through the mountains, or rolling hills or wheat fields and all we see is the bugs on our windshield—seeing but not perceiving the beauty that surrounds us.  It is like viewing a magnificent, awe-inspiring painting and only seeing the plain wooden frame that surrounds it.  It is like going to Hawaii and hiding in the air-conditioned hotel.  It doesn’t seem right, like a heart that doesn’t love.  A sleep that doesn’t dream.  We need to live in the reality that we are His delight.  And that reality is found in Jesus Christ.

     This realization of His delight brings forth wisdom, because we are known and know the God of the universe.  This leads to doing the good works we were written for; the ones we were created for; the ones in which He breathed His life and beauty into us in advance for us to do.  We can do what we were created for; we need only to realize that we are alive in His delight.  To really know that as our reality.  How crazy it would be to remain stagnant, only viewing the bug splattered windshield and to risk missing the relentless and striking beauty that is just beyond it.  If we remain in His love, we will grow and He will bring forth much fruit (John 15:1-17).  Therefore, fulfilling the things He prepared in advanced for us to do.

     So let us speak. Let us love.  Let us write, dance, sing, run, rejoice, laugh, smile, talk.  Let us live, and realize that we are the living, breathing, handwritten poetry of the Everlasting and Eternal Poet.  His poetry, His desire; living in His reality—the realization that we are alive, and His delight.  Lovely poems, indeed.