Why did the first heart turn,
under jewels and sunlight,
toward darkness? Where did the
first thought come from
that whispered: you are not
doing what you could be doing—
and from there all evil sprouted?
Did he dig up the thought
from inside himself and there
let it germinate into fruition?
The heart that entices
all other hearts to turn that are soft
to turning and hard to soften;
I can feel mine start to turn
when I agree one boring Tuesday
afternoon, “You’re right, I’m not.”
But then I remember a word
spoken over me by Light, and I
retract and repent, willing again.
The first unhappy worker he was,
discontent with his position.
We were all made for something
or another—and each was made as a
puzzle piece in the father’s side;
Not that we make Him complete—
but that he limits Himself, so that we
can be apart of Him, and he must
The jeweled one he lost forever—
a puzzle piece bent and wicked
who shifted his own shape never to fit in again.
But to ravage, rape, and wreck the
world and pull the tablecloth off along with
all the china. But somehow in doing so
he became a vessel of wrath
that the Son sailed in on,
and there as a jigsaw piece he fits just right,
scorned even more for fulfilling
a purpose --his rebellion turned to a ruse,
his treachery into a joke, his obstinacy to
obedience, his contention into
compliance, his wickedness into a wisecrack.
What a pitiful thought
it must be to him in the end: he
has become the very vile of dead disease
whose vaccine has become our cure.
biting the Man, he has crushed his own head--
turning into a diligent worker to
build the kingdom that he forsook.
He has become the pun of all puns:
taking the role of a servant as he
refused to be a son.
But before I laugh too hard,
I remember that I am a joke too.
And all my attempts at attempting
are the same as his. And all
my efforts at righteousness
are the same as his rejecting
righteousness, because both
are rejecting the Son (who
and the only upper hand I
have on him is to admit that
I don’t have hands—but that
the Son has me in His instead.
For all creatures will serve the Lord’s purpose--
either as bent hard pieces, or willing;
for he changes the puzzle as we change,
and how we fit and mingle and the
decisions that we are allowed to make.
But the fragments always work to create the same picture—
it is illusory to think we could serve our own
purpose or make a new image.
Thank God all my ill mistakes
will serve His purpose—thank God
all my great exploits will serve His purpose.
Thank God I cannot thwart his plan—thank
God I cannot help or hurt too much,
but just enough to be called His friend.
What a puzzle this is to us and
all the determined Calvinists.
What questions we have here.
What friendships and church splits
have been caused from these conversations.
What evil has been aided and
expanded by hatred over the jest.
What baffling of theology
and counseling. Was darkness ever
needed? Was freewill worth
the risk? I will abandon
these questions, for they arenot my piece of the puzzle to answer.
*Allusions and References:
On "the jeweled one" and his trade: Ezekiel 28:12-19 and Isaiah 14
On Thwarting the plan of God: Job 42
On Vessels of wrath: Romans 9:22
On biting the man, crushing the serpent prophecy: Genesis 3:14-16