This poem was written ten years after the initial poems in this exchange. A long time, or so it used to seem. I did a study once on time and tried to understand the unusual concept that YHVH does not operate within the time/space continuum. A day is as a thousand years to Him, a thousand years as a day - at any rate put that way so we get, to some small degree, the differences between Him and us.  As I understand it, YHVH doesn’t measure time, He measures progress, direction, obedience. We are the ones who make time limits - perhaps because we are so limited. 

 You will see that what began ten years before is still in progress. What has changed? I have moved from recognizing there is a problem, to identifying the problem, to applying truth to the problem, and now (2007) to a new paradigm of operating within my Father’s boundaries. 

Discovering my intended function and purpose as a woman has been a difficult and sometimes terrifying task. Breaking out of the small, confining, and destructive image created in the minds of males (and sadly at times, other females) is no small feat. I heard at every turn that I was rebelling against God by refusing to accept that I was less than, second class, deficient somehow, the cause and continuation of the world’s ills, all because I was woman. 

 I am ezer kenegdo! I am eshet chayil! As a very special new friend confirmed recently - I am awake - not perfect - but definitely awake! I am in process, moving forward, and not looking back. I am becoming what my Creator intended. And I am in excellent company! Praise YHVH for sisters and brothers who are willing to recognize there is a problem, to identify the problem, to apply TRUTH to the problem, and accept a new paradigm of operating within the Father’s boundaries.



BECOMING                     by Sherri Rogers, 2007

 Dissolving in my tears that flow unimpeded
            from somewhere so deep I’ve never been,
                    The pain is excruciating.
                                I cry out in anguish as the chasm deepens
 And the trickle becomes a raging torrent
             Gushing from places I didn’t know existed,
                      Carrying with it flux and debris long entrenched
                                 Like huge boulders mostly buried in mountain rivers.

 Massive ideas and perceptions, abuses, 
              That shaped my soul into what I thought was me.
 O, gentle eroding water-Word
               O, insistent, persistent Spirit-wind
                          How frustrating, how uncomfortable,
                                    how thorough, how welcome.

 And I wonder how much my impatience increases my pain.
             My inability to wait quietly
                        Accepting the process
                                  Allowing it to do the work, and yet . . .
 I have been told to seek, to push, to come up higher, to delve deeper.

 Teach me O, Breath of God, Spirit that is my life
             what is my work and what is Yours and
                       Who I am and what I am to become.

The poem I share today came out of the realization that most of us don't have a clue. Our relationships have no depth -even married people. Things, how we look, who we know, what we know, where we go, the make of our car, the neighborhood we live in, whether you have seen the latest movie, who won the super bowl, how many 'friends' you have on facebook - these dominate our conversation. I use the word conversation to define not only how we talk but in the biblical sense of how we live. 


Our Torah study group has been in the chapters of Genesis that give the account of Sodom and Gomorrah. A couple of weeks ago, the facilitator brought up the curious case of Ethan Couch, the 16 year old Texas boy who got ten years of probation for driving drunk and killing four people. Affluence and lack of proper parental guidance was the defense. Ezekiel 16:49 tells us that this was a key element that brought down the horrific judgement on Sodom and Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim. 


Mercy always precedes judgement. The root or base sins of pride and selfishness were at the core of the depravity that became a way of life for the cities of the plain. Clearly Lot made some bad choices, but his "conversation", his concern for the well-being of strangers was a thorn in the sides of the affluent and spoiled I-will-do-what-I-want citizens of this beautiful place. Was the visitation of the angels and Lot's response to the situation in essence one last opportunity for the people of Sodom to do the right thing? Think of Ninevah. 


There is a lot of discussion about the judge's ruling in the case mentioned above. Is it really about our opinion of what should have happened, or are we being shown something? Are we being granted mercy in the form of a judgement pronounced on a sixteen year old that we all need to study and learn from?


We are being challenged to take an inventory. We do not study for the sake of study. We study to LEARN - to put into practice what we have studied. How does my life need to change to reflect Torah, the will of my heavenly Father, instead of the world and my superficial worldly connections?


OUT OF TOUCH    by Sherri Rogers   (1998) 


The rooms of the houses are full to overflowing
but they are empty and cold
void of that which money cannot buy.

They sit in their rooms full of things,
accumulations of security
that do not love or touch or cry.

Basking in the glow of artificial light
and superficial friendships
that pass like ships in the night

Feeling manufactured love that doesn’t warm
and is slipped on and off
like a jacket for a storm.

The heart is so hard, the walls are so high
the bondage to things so difficult to be broken
The mind of reason must give way
to the Spirit of God through the word He has spoken

A heart of flesh for a heart of stone
transformed by the blood of the Lamb
The idols smashed, the alters torn down
cleansed and perfected by the Great I Am.

My precious mishpochah, 

I called a longtime friend this morning to talk over a 'situation'. She has a history of physical neglect and abuse that is on a par with sex trafficking and slavery. She has made a choice to become a victor instead of a victim. After a hiatus in our relationship, she is back with a vengeance! More healing, more refining, more of what Abba wants for her life. The poems I am sharing were written years ago during the foundational healing of my life. They focus on verbal abuse, something I have recently been subjected to - again - by someone who should know better. This is the 'situation'. 

I received some clarity and insight as I walked this morning and called to discuss it with her. Sometimes, I get the sense that because they are words and not violent physical attacks - either beatings or sexually - that they should not carry the same weight. Sticks and stones and all that. As we spoke and I poured out my heart, I was struck by her ability to empathize with my pain as if it were like hers. I guess it takes one to know one. And I am aware that verbal abuse leaves just as many and just as deep scars as physical abuse. I think I knew it in my head, but she helped bring it home to my heart. I will not let this pass again as if it doesn't matter because they are 'only' words and not fists.

YHVH tells us that the power of life and death is in the tongue. When do we get to justify our verbal cruelty and vicious word attacks? Because this is the 'situation', back when the poems were written and now. 

We also talked about the fact that I am a woman and these words came from a man, supposedly a believer. This is not the first time with this particular person. You can know Torah, but if you are not doing Torah, there is no life in what you say or do.

THROW AWAYS          by Sherri Rogers   (1997)
 
The paper is expensive.  It’s shiny and new.
 It hides inside what it’s supposed to.
It is only used once and then it’s discarded
Ripped and creased, no longer regarded
As useful or pretty or something to keep
Thrown away with the rest of the trash on the heap.
Like the lives of those who once were whole
And now sit defeated and all alone.
Crushed by the ones who used them to gain
Their selfish desires without thought of the pain.

Once beautiful faces with eyes full of life
Now lined with torment and racked with strife.
Left even by those who said they cared
Self appointed judges who wouldn’t dare
To lower themselves to take the hand
Of the abused and down trodden to help them stand
For fear they’ll become like the ones they touch
Or mocked and chided for caring too much.

 From YHVH’s love you cannot escape
In His Kingdom there are no throw aways.
"In as much as you have done it to the least of these
My child, you have done it unto Me."

Cognitive dissonance is a term used to explain the attempt to reconcile two opposing ideas or beliefs. It is what happens when you come face to face with reality that isn’t what you thought it was. For most people, living in a perception of what should be rather than what is, becomes a form of self preservation. Take an abused child, for instance. Often they will formulate fantasies about themselves or their abuser or both in order to deal with the horror of their reality. 

At some point, the truth must be faced, a choice must be made. You can accept the truth and let go of the lie/fantasy about yourself or your perpetrators or you will become the lie. This is the ultimate goal of Hegelian dialectic - to pit two opposites against each other and somehow bring them into harmony. For this to happen, each opposite must give up something to look more like the other. On one side you have lie, on the other you have truth and when they meet somewhere in the middle, you have compromise. 

Compromise takes off some of the edge, but it never brings peace. These poems came out of my struggle with cognitive dissonance. They lent voice to what I was being shown about who and what I really was versus what I had believed I was because of what I had been told or taught. 

WALLS   by Sherri Rogers   (1997)
 
Way down inside, protected inside, down in the innermost part
        Strange how it’s shattered and beaten and battered
                 This thing called the human heart.

 “I love you,” they say, 
         but their actions betray
                  the words their lips have spoken.

In the pain rushes, 
        it sears and it crushes
                  and the tender heart is broken.

The hardening starts to protect from the hurt
          and the walls are methodically erected.
                  The fortress is grand, it’s built to withstand
                                and it keeps the heart protected.

 But the toughness that’s gained is only feigned
           because the hurt remains
                     Locked up inside, sheltered inside, protected inside
                                 the walls made to keep out the pain.

 So it builds and grows and no one knows
            Because of the mask you wear
                       Until once again the pain takes its toll 
                                 And becomes too much to bear.

The only way out is to cry out
              To the One who created the heart
                         He’ll answer your call and tear down the walls
                                   And cause the healing to start.

Only He can mend the terrible rend
               caused by the destructive voices
                          Of those that can’t feel, can only steal
                                     your peace and trust by their choices.

They will continue, they do what they do.
                No doubt they’ll hurt you again
                            But the One who has mended forever has ended  
                                       the destruction caused by their sin.

 The heart of flesh that was turned to stone
                has been to flesh restored
                            And it still feels pain, but can also retain
                                         the love and squeeze of the Lord.

As i ponder just why I feel led to address the plight of women and the sticky wicket of doctrine founded on a few lines taken from Rav Shaul's (Apostle Paul's) writings, it is incumbent to revisit my experiences and the answers received for questions as to why I just cannot accept the status quo. I have been labeled many things throughout the course of my 'church' life, most not particularly flattering. There was a time when I just accepted that what I was told was Truth, even when I could not find justification for it in Scripture. When I would ask about this, the 'learned' men, pastors, most of them with some kind of seminary training, always smiled condescendingly and placated me with remarks such as, "You just don't understand. It took me years." The 'me' was always emphasized in a way that was intended to amplify my lowly position as a wife, mother and, homemaker. Poor little stay-at-home-mom trying to figure it all out. 

Okay, so maybe there were some sour grapes. Maybe still are, but I have come a very long way and am currently accepting a paradigm shift in regard to this. There came a time when I stopped asking and began demanding proof for doctrines from a Scriptural perspective.  Am I not commanded to do so? Even as a woman? The labeling began when I refused to simply accept man's opinion. I stopped being more concerned with what men thought of my questioning and sought the approval of my LORD and MASTER, my Creator. 

As promised, here is another of the poems that came from the early years of searching:


FLESH AND SPIRIT
by Sherri Rogers   (1997)

 The good news of Yeshua is pure and true
 The Word made flesh for me and you.

 Given by God, aware of the loss
 Accepting the pain of death on the cross,

 So the Word could arise and live to save
 The souls of men from a spiritual grave.

This gift of love so gentle, so strong
 Is the Spirit inside, a shield, a song.

The strength and power are in the love
 Of the Spirit of God sent from above.


 The arm of flesh takes God’s Word
 And slings it around to judge and hurt.

 Love isn’t there, so the words cut and bruise
 They bash, they crush, they mangle, accuse.

 The broken men they were meant to save
 Are beaten down farther and driven away.

 Self-righteousness in the church today
 Leaves no room for Yeshua to save.

 They’ve sealed their fate by refusing to love
 Through the Spirit of God sent from above.

Our journeys are all so different and yet in many ways they are alike.  Most of us begin with baggage that holds us back, keeps us down, causes us to believe lies. Recently, I have been meeting with a couple of friends to explore the implications of being created women.  After my divorce seventeen years ago, I began crying out to the Father to show me what it means to be a woman, a bride, a wife. Years have been spent researching beliefs and doctrine, comparing what has been taught with what Scripture says. I have to tell you that I am saddened, no - grieved, by what I have found. 

As is so often the case, I am led to do my own discovery and then YHVH will bring confirmation by way of books, video teachings, or just others who are also seeing it. This past year has been my year of confirmation. There are hundreds, maybe thousands out there who have independently done what i have been doing and are coming to the same conclusions, conclusions that are not widely accepted by the body at large, particularly concerning the function and purpose of women. I have much more to say on this, but am struggling with how to say it. I write a lot. Some of what I write is poetry and comes in times of revelation and growth. I was given a series of poems during the time after my divorce was final that speak to the heart cry of those whose lives have suffered devastation on the receiving end of the lie. 

For now, I will be posting some of those poems which came out of that time of healing. 


IMAGES AND IDOLS AND SUCH    by Sherri Rogers   (1997)

The clanking of the hammer is never restless
 The metal is cold and hard and ageless.
 The fire is kindled so the work can begin
 Softening the metal for the craftsman.
 The image is skillfully molded and formed
 Beautifully shaped, polished and honed.
 The price is set, it seems rather steep
 Gold and silver run high, idols aren’t cheap.
 You pay for them twice, they exact their price
 First you pay with your money and then with your life.

 The clanking of the tongue is never restless
 The words are cold and hard and ageless
 The fire is kindled by the spark of the tongue
 The words pour out and the work is begun.
 An image is formed by the thought of a man
 And the words do the shaping as only they can.
 Contorting the soul into an ungodly form
 That silently cries in the midst of the storm.
 And the soul’s failure to conform to the shape they’ve made
 Wreaks self-destruction from anger and shame.