03-09-2017, 07:04 AM
Hi, Caleb. I think I understand now why you wanted me to read this poem. It is one from the heart of hearts. I right off wanted to critique the title. I don't think it's accurate to the poem.
I see conversion as something that happens only after surrendering what it is that will be converted. There cannot be a struggle with conversion until one actually puts it in the hands of the expert. I think this may be a poem concerning spiritual things, not so much metaphor, but the word conversion still means the same thing, whether spiritual or physical. For instance, here's an example: I want a conversion done on this plain van, but, I know before I can, I have to present it to the one who will do that for me. So, yes, I need to do that...Here I go! I surrender the van to the expert, knowing he will gladly pull my precious treasure into his garage, pour out his care, and my van will begin the process of the conversion of my dreams. Sometimes the main event of surrendering is the part we struggle with, we want the van to be better, we want it to be converted, newer...but we kind of like its old way, too. We like the cool plastic cup holders and we like the outdated, chrome spokes on the hub caps, the ones dad gave us. Oh, no...we see that a conversion will change the van completely and maybe we aren't ready, for whatever reason. But we know Mahogany wood trim with unstained cupholders and a shining of Grandpa's hubcaps is a must. So we surrender it into the hands of someone we trust will make it right.
Because your poem seems to be reflecting something of a spiritual conflict and after reading its contents, I want to say that you might want to change the title, maybe something like Struggling with Salvation, or Stuggling with the Gospel? Something apart from conversion?
Struggling with Conversion
"... it's a mistake to think that God is in nature, Interesting bit of context I would have liked to
or in our hearts, or in inanimate things. God know more about what was said/who/history, etc.
is exulted, and the world is sinful, and we are Or given background to the quote
of the world."
— a television preacher
Some days I almost do it, turn my Heart
over to the One, to the Son,
so lonely on this Earth I pass my time,
so little on this Earth in which to place
my incapacitated faith –
not in men, though; no, not in them. Great stanza.
Yes, today, again, I almost did it,
although I knew it must be Wrong I don't know why a capital W is painted here.
to think of God as separate from
a flower, a tree, a song – or too High
to share in painful things, like this hour;
yes, God must be in everything – He is, it's His art, His Creation
Not only in the Son, or in his church,
or in his father's book of fears –
or in Death's sickle come to claim us – Death often represents sin & eternal
but in our hearts and tears; in this old separation from God.
broken chair losing stuffing to the floor,
like my life – in that also there is God,
If God be at all. This is where I read the struggle, but not one concerning conversion,
but of surrender to God.
I feel as though the narrator is perhaps describing a rejection of the Gospel of Peace because of something the TV evangelist preacher did or said. But as I read on, I saw a glimmer of hope "the no, not man", recognizing that fallible humankind will always let us down, especially when it comes to our souls. I accept who-I-am as imperfect, though I strive to be better through a conversion of faith where I find myself growing, spiritually. Perhaps there is a loss of the Holy Spirit of God involved that prevents the narrator from seeing Truth. Perhaps the Spirit of God has been removed from where the narrator is. I believe that once we surrender to Him, God will never let us down, and He will take care of us and move us to do His will whether we even know it or not. We will often fail and fall, and find it necessary to run back into His arms over and over. It's almost like everything we see is sort of like...well, the way a well designed computer program works, made by Him. It's all His Creation, His doing, every part of it. Every tree, every flower, every life, everything. It's just we must choose which path we will take, and our choices will earn a fixed end result. We are only here wearing these earthsuits of flesh to decide whether we will receive or reject God's simple plan of salvation, that is, trusting in His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ (and what He did on the cross, bearing all our sins upon Himself so we could enter a sin free heaven), and receive Him, wholeheartedly, into our hearts as Savior. Then after that we see how well we shine His Light in an ever darkening world.
And so the ending was very troubling. If God be at all. Made me cry, actually. But that one word: "If" somehow sparks a shimmer of hope. Thank you so much for allowing me to critique. Saddest thing I've read all day. Forgive my poor writing. I am struggling today.
I see conversion as something that happens only after surrendering what it is that will be converted. There cannot be a struggle with conversion until one actually puts it in the hands of the expert. I think this may be a poem concerning spiritual things, not so much metaphor, but the word conversion still means the same thing, whether spiritual or physical. For instance, here's an example: I want a conversion done on this plain van, but, I know before I can, I have to present it to the one who will do that for me. So, yes, I need to do that...Here I go! I surrender the van to the expert, knowing he will gladly pull my precious treasure into his garage, pour out his care, and my van will begin the process of the conversion of my dreams. Sometimes the main event of surrendering is the part we struggle with, we want the van to be better, we want it to be converted, newer...but we kind of like its old way, too. We like the cool plastic cup holders and we like the outdated, chrome spokes on the hub caps, the ones dad gave us. Oh, no...we see that a conversion will change the van completely and maybe we aren't ready, for whatever reason. But we know Mahogany wood trim with unstained cupholders and a shining of Grandpa's hubcaps is a must. So we surrender it into the hands of someone we trust will make it right.
Because your poem seems to be reflecting something of a spiritual conflict and after reading its contents, I want to say that you might want to change the title, maybe something like Struggling with Salvation, or Stuggling with the Gospel? Something apart from conversion?
Struggling with Conversion
"... it's a mistake to think that God is in nature, Interesting bit of context I would have liked to
or in our hearts, or in inanimate things. God know more about what was said/who/history, etc.
is exulted, and the world is sinful, and we are Or given background to the quote
of the world."
— a television preacher
Some days I almost do it, turn my Heart
over to the One, to the Son,
so lonely on this Earth I pass my time,
so little on this Earth in which to place
my incapacitated faith –
not in men, though; no, not in them. Great stanza.
Yes, today, again, I almost did it,
although I knew it must be Wrong I don't know why a capital W is painted here.
to think of God as separate from
a flower, a tree, a song – or too High
to share in painful things, like this hour;
yes, God must be in everything – He is, it's His art, His Creation
Not only in the Son, or in his church,
or in his father's book of fears –
or in Death's sickle come to claim us – Death often represents sin & eternal
but in our hearts and tears; in this old separation from God.
broken chair losing stuffing to the floor,
like my life – in that also there is God,
If God be at all. This is where I read the struggle, but not one concerning conversion,
but of surrender to God.
I feel as though the narrator is perhaps describing a rejection of the Gospel of Peace because of something the TV evangelist preacher did or said. But as I read on, I saw a glimmer of hope "the no, not man", recognizing that fallible humankind will always let us down, especially when it comes to our souls. I accept who-I-am as imperfect, though I strive to be better through a conversion of faith where I find myself growing, spiritually. Perhaps there is a loss of the Holy Spirit of God involved that prevents the narrator from seeing Truth. Perhaps the Spirit of God has been removed from where the narrator is. I believe that once we surrender to Him, God will never let us down, and He will take care of us and move us to do His will whether we even know it or not. We will often fail and fall, and find it necessary to run back into His arms over and over. It's almost like everything we see is sort of like...well, the way a well designed computer program works, made by Him. It's all His Creation, His doing, every part of it. Every tree, every flower, every life, everything. It's just we must choose which path we will take, and our choices will earn a fixed end result. We are only here wearing these earthsuits of flesh to decide whether we will receive or reject God's simple plan of salvation, that is, trusting in His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ (and what He did on the cross, bearing all our sins upon Himself so we could enter a sin free heaven), and receive Him, wholeheartedly, into our hearts as Savior. Then after that we see how well we shine His Light in an ever darkening world.
And so the ending was very troubling. If God be at all. Made me cry, actually. But that one word: "If" somehow sparks a shimmer of hope. Thank you so much for allowing me to critique. Saddest thing I've read all day. Forgive my poor writing. I am struggling today.
there's always a better reason to love