Reflecting on David's Failure

My introductions are always too long so here's a short one. Here's a poem I wrote a year or so ago as a reflection upon David's fall. As one trained by Dr. Vreeland, I feel compelled to point out that David's departure from godliness began much earlier than his sin with Bathsheba, but it was something of a culmination. I also want to make it clear that I do not mean to imply that David was one to be emulated prior to his sin with Bathsheba. This is more of a reflection of sin and its destructive nature, looking at David as an example of that.

Feedback welcomed as always. I'll get back to gender issues later.

Reflecting on Failure

My delight is in the presence of my God.
His faithfulness is abundant; His goodness is without end.
My soul rejoices in my God my Savior.
His friendship is precious to me; all else is vain, for He satisfies me completely
I will continue to find joy in my God and seek His face.
I find my purpose in serving Him; pleasing Him.
His approval will mark my life as worth living;
Stay true my soul; do not stray; stay true.

Who is that woman bathing yonder?
Her beauty has captured my heart; my lust is insatiable
I must know her, have her, kiss her lips; I must satisfy my longings
Ah, but she has a husband; but praise the gods, he is not here
Bring her here, I must have her. Bring her here, I am the king after all.
She should have been mine; she is too beautiful for a Hittite
Oh, but she is with child, my child. Her husband is still away.
Bring him here. He will not comply? Let him die! I am the king after all

She is all mine now. Her child will be my child and none will know.
How sweet it is to obtain the object of one’s desire!
A man sees what he wants and he acquires it- let no one hinder him.
Her beauty will satisfy me, our son will be a joy to me in my old age.
How good it is to take pleasure in the fruit of one’s labor!
I see what I want and I take hold of it. I am the king after all.
What can compare to the beauty of a woman? To the softness of her touch?
Her kisses will satisfy my longings all the days of my life.

The consequences of my sin overwhelm me. God have mercy on me!
Spare my son, do not let him die! My sin was great, but you are great in mercy!
I am overwhelmed. Is all lost? Has God turned His back on His servant?
What have I done? I have lost all I once held dear! All that mattered has left me.
My sons, my sons. Must they all die? Will you spare even one?
O God my God! I have cried out to you all the day long and you will not answer me!
My God My God! Why have you forsaken me? My enemies have surrounded me.
I cry to you, you still will not hear me? Against you alone oh God have I sinned.

Spare your servant. Do not take away your Spirit from me. Do not let me be as a Gentile.
Despite my failings, I am still your servant. Do not send me to Sheol as one rejected.
Your mercy and your lovingkindness never cease. They are new every morning.
I will trust in you alone for you alone are able to save one so wretched.
Deliver me O God. Do not let my house go to ruin.
My sin was great, but your punishment is unbearable.
In wrath remember mercy. In justice remember grace.
I have failed God, I have failed. Remember your people, remember your throne
For Your name’s sake if not mine…

Deluge in Drizzleland

Instead of the promised blog here's another poem I wrote this morning (2am 11/12/08). For those of you who don't live in Washington, we've had some uncharacteristically hard rain lately...

Deluge in Drizzleland
Matthew Richey

From the dry indoors I see,
A deluge in drizzleland.
Huge drops at high speeds drenching and drowning,
Their prey: a poor persecuted parking lot
Accustomed only to the familiar dripping of dawdling drip-drops.

From the dry indoors I love,
Watching puddles form pools
Sipping coffee so safely sheltered
Knowing my God won’t drown us again

From the dry indoors I dread,
Seeing my car much too far away
Knowing that soon I must venture into a battle I cannot win
We drizzleland dwellers do not don umbrellas

From the dry indoors I know
God is good. He,
Sends rain on the godly and ungodly, the righteous and unrighteous,
And provides, for the despairing and the drowning, dry land.

From the dry indoors,
I am happy and content, safe, sound, and secure.
Because the rainmaker is the sunsender
I am not afraid.

The Moth

I have a blog coming soon. Here's a poem I wrote a year and a half ago that is basically a true story. I mean something by it but I can't quite describe what that is to you. I guess I'll be a good postmodern and let you figure out what it means to you. I would like honest positive/negative feedback. It's very hard to judge your own stuff.

I do, btw, have stuff from my novel/apology of hell written but I can't get the first part right. It's very frustrating.



The Moth
Matthew Richey

I spied a moth resting upon the wall
I decided to kill her- no reason at all.
Into the water, innocent, I caused her to fall
Watching her struggle; her odds were small.

But it seemed so sad; senselessly to murder her!
What right I to decide she should swim?
That just because of some random whim,
She should die, but I the killer- the guilty- live

So I pulled her out from the water
Saved her life- I could not watch her die.
To call me her savior indeed would be a lie,
Because I never did see if she could still fly



















Moth picture found here

There Goes the Sun- poetry written as the sun appeared

The following is a poem I wrote about a year ago at the end of a dark season of doubt, just as I began to emerge out of it. I still have something coming on hell in the next couple days.

There Goes the Sun
Matthew Richey


As darkness slowly drives out the dying day,
My mind is slowly poisoned by the miserable musings of my mouth,
Damn my life! Damn my misery! Why does God hate this lump of clay?
I look for signs, any sign, that God cares for my soul. I see no such sign.
Prepared beforehand for glory? Or for destruction? He doesn’t say.
Oh God have mercy on my poor soul! Have pity for I am weak and helpless.
I want to please you but am unable. It’s not my fault, you refuse to help me when I pray.
Blame me all you want. We both know I sin and fall because you refuse to interfere.
I am wandering and I am lost but you could help, but you will not show me the way.

What is my answer?

Where is my reply?

I hear no one.

I see nothing

I cannot continue in despair.
I cannot understand this God who made me for He is unknowable.
Kill thy son. I will obey. I will not ask why.
I will follow His precepts. I will obey His commandments.
Reject thy will. Sell all you have. Follow
All I have will go to the poor. I will turn from my greed.
Love thy neighbor. I will love.
I will put the needs of others before my own.
Love thy God. If you love me you will obey me.
I will love by my obedience.
Forsake thy ignorance. Embrace my truth.
Instruct me and I will learn.

Suddenly the sun rises and the darkness recedes.
I do not know where she came from or where she was hiding but she has returned.
I do not understand why she had to go down or how she rose again.
But though his death killed me, his rising has raised me.
His rising has given me meaning through mystery.
His death proves his love
His rising his power
I begin to understand.