Tattoos hurt.
But they are art so we bare with it for the result.
The artist (hopefully if all went well) brags to friends about how fast and sharp he threw up the piece on your arm.
“Nah, the pain wasn’t that bad. Only 6 hours of work.” You respond to the inquiries hoping for that nod of affirmation that -yes, you are a bad ass.
Allowing Jesus to work on us hurts.
It is uncomfortable.
He may brag to the angels how great we are doing, how proud he is of us but we don’t come out looking like a bad ass, at least not to our eyes.
I am on a solitude retreat right now.
Sitting still.
Allowing God to work on me.
Show me pieces of me I never knew were there.
Lousy prison tats.
He is doing a clean up job.
And it is beautiful.
When I go home I am sure I will complain.
I won’t like the colors he chose.
It should be a little smaller or more to the right.
But that is a slam on his art.
And he only does perfect work.
So I will go back.
I will bite a sock and ask for more.
Lay out on that plastic table.
Awkward, half naked and a little scared
and ask,
What are you thinking now Jesus?
I am ready.
Tiny pricks on my skin
The ink sinks in
The blood rises
I am a masterpiece
Of my Fathers hand.
10.17.2009
3.13.2009
release
as they fall
I’m reminded
of their refreshing role
to express deep
and complex things
their ability
to communicate far beyond words
they respond to that inside
their droplets of beauty
which washover my face
renew a needful heart
I lose to them
coming under their release
they stream down
with each one that falls
I remember your care
I know you see them
they were stored for years
believing they represented weakness
acknowledging I have needs
I need you Jesus
in disbelief, mourning, joy, and sadness
I need you
I need you to pour from me
fill me, come closer to me and move inside of me
its wonderful to be reminded
apart from you i cannot stand
my life comes from you
you alone make things right
I see these things in tears
not spelled out
but in a mysterious way
like your kingdom
continue to come my tears
saturate this heart
that is yours and in great need
Posted by
Jess
at
10:02 AM
0
comments
2.11.2009
untitled
when nothing is left and you cant find the answers
for why things have gone and disappeared into blackness
i've tried to remain but change happens fast
too fast to notice until it's long past
trapped
etching inside are proverbs
i've been here before the static no longer bothers
fathers
cannot make life any harder
mothers
love lost to drugs
my offerings are altered
custom fit crosses that come taylor made
i've buried the hatchet reopening graves
being haunted by demons is hard to forget
i'm waiting for patience that doesn't come quick
my quest continues maybe this is as good as it gets
my clothes are still ripped from the the chain linked fence
full of incense from the bowls that were lifted
laid open and bare in the presence of drifters
the organized mislead
organic mechanics
trapped in the orbital magic of bad habits
and the ancient agreements
of those who have come to a decision
nobody asks for the life that their given
a prison surrounds the tap water with bars
we all fall apart and reopen scars
by wes
Posted by
Paul Nix
at
4:09 PM
0
comments
Labels: poetry
11.22.2008
11.20.2008
to nini
Posted by
claire
at
11:51 AM
0
comments
11.17.2008
Nomads Movie
this movie features the Outer Circle "Nomads" of 2008
luke, courtney, emily, and caroline
Outer Circle Nomads from Paul Nix on Vimeo.
Posted by
Paul Nix
at
9:36 PM
0
comments
9.29.2008
pancakes
here is a 2 minute video showing a little of our normal monday mornings.
enjoy!
(song is 'come to the table' written and performed by Darren Prince...outer circle alumnus)
Posted by
Paul Nix
at
9:20 PM
2
comments
