My filth and my failures
filled up 
every page of
every book on 
every shelf
of the world’s largest library.
Expansive, unedited,
detailed and damning,
with new volumes 
added every day—
my crimes, 
no matter how 
masqueraded 
or modest,
sentenced me to death 
for all 
e t e r n i t y.

And yet, 
He came in compassion,
set fire to my 
colossal collection,
burned
to
the
ground 
every last page of
every last book on
every last shelf 
and said,
“It is finished. 
You’re forgiven.
Oh, how I love you!”

(Selah)

So, yes, it’s true—
your crimes
have crushed my heart;
you’ve pierced 
me through. 
You’ve bullied His bride
then balked at her bleeding—
cast her aside
and called it a win.
How can you love the Head
yet hate His body?

But have I
not done as much…
and more?
When I think on
my salacious sins—
that library of guilt—
your sins against me
fit on 

one
small
page.

Why then do I wrestle 
to strike this 
match of mercy
and burn to ashes 
your one-page wrongs?—
wrongs that He
entrusted to me,
that I might know Him more
and make much of His love.

Beloved—
on that Day
when at last we see 
His face,
behold His beauty,
bask in grace—
we’ll forever forget
this brief brokenness.
It will be 
swallowed up 
in perfect love
for one another.
And with that hope
held fast in my heart,
I choose again today
to live a life of love—
to freely forgive…
as I myself have been 
forgiven.

—Colleen Chao

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You use pain so wisely,
With infinite care,
Knowing right where
To push and pull and tear
And break and burn
Until I’ve finally learned
With all my being to yearn
For You only.

Merciful undoing:
This pain sets me free.
My blind eyes now can see
Unspeakable mystery—
This death leads to life,
No shortcut through strife;
With my good in mind
You’ve afflicted me.

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Mystery—

Living in the
In-between
The unknown
The not-yet

Shadow, substance
Long and short
Handspan, breath…
Infinite

Holding on and
Letting go
Open handed
Lingering

Fragile, fearful
Unmoved, strong
Laughing joy
Bitter drink

Hoping long and
grieving slow
Sleepless nights
Mercies dawn

Straining forward
Doubled down
Kneeling, prostrate
Fighting on

Misery and
Miracles
Haunting hours
Holy days

Pain and promise
Loss and love
Breathless, burdened
Greatest grace

Past and future
Eternal now
Death is almost
History

In-between
Here and There
He is found
In mystery.

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As I celebrate my 41st birthday this week, I’m returning to a poem I wrote years ago, when I had far fewer grays, spots, and lines; when time had not yet begun to leave its mark on my body. This is the kind of imperishable beauty I long for….

BEAUTIFUL

Her face was weathered,
wrinkled—altogether
older now.
Facials and lotions,
expensive beauty potions—
she had turned them in.
For in the end,
when life was done,
she wanted her heart
to be the most beautiful part
of her.

Sure, she missed that glance,
the eyes that danced
to look at her
(in her younger days
when beauty’s ways
were upon her).
But now people stared long and hard
at her heart
that shone on her face.

Plastic Beauties who saw her walk by
envied her—the life in her eyes
that sparkled,
undaunted by aging and time—
and almost mesmerized
they asked her
the reason for her smile.
And she would stop awhile
and tell them
(oh, she loved to tell them)
of the One who made her beautiful.

~~~
“Those who look to Him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.”
Psalm 34:5

“They shall be radiant over the goodness of the Lord…”
Jeremiah 31:12

“‘And your fame spread among the nations on account of your beauty, because the splendor I had given you made your beauty perfect,’ declares the Sovereign Lord.”
Ezekiel 16:14

“Oh, the soul of man is more worth than a thousand worlds! It is the greatest abasing of it that can be—to let it dote upon a little shining earth, upon a little painted beauty and fading glory—when it is capable of union with Christ, of communion with God, and of enjoying the eternal vision of God.”
Thomas Brooks

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But to be honest, I’ve always been confused about Who’s Who in this record of royalty. So last summer I spent weeks reading and researching and connecting dots, and this poem was the result—a study aid for my forgetful, oft-confused brain.

May it come in handy to a few of you as well. (I’ve highlighted the Kings of Israel in orange; the Kings of Judah in green. And where possible, I’ve tried to use exact words or phrases from Scripture.)

Poem of the Kings

Here is a look at Old Testament kings:
Saul (the first) was promising,
till disbelief and folly won—
then in stepped God’s anointed one.
David’s heart was wholly true,
but Solomon didn’t follow through.
Rehoboam closed his ears
to counsel from those wise in years.
Jeroboam made calves of gold,
Nadab’s sin was just as bold.
Abijam took up all the sins
of his father before him.
Asa came and saved the day—
idols, prostitutes were put away.
Basha sinned and sealed his fate
(the dogs were waiting in the gate).
Elah was a drunkard king
whose brief reign ended suddenly.
Zimri did evil in the sight of the Lord;
Omri did evil—but even more.
Omri’s son Ahab outdid his dad,
embodying the look of bad.
Jehoshaphat made Asa proud
(yet the high places were still allowed).

Ahaziah took a great fall,
through some lattice high on a wall.
Wicked Jehoram wed Ahab’s daughter
yet mercy came instead of slaughter.
Joram was evil, he had no peace,
and Ahaziah tried to flee,
for Jehu was on a bloody mission—
Death to royalty and sons of perdition!
Jehoahaz sinned, then sought the Lord,
then sinned again (back and forth).
Athaliah was a usurping queen
till Joash, at seven years old, became king.
(When Jehoida counseled him, he was wise;
but with the priest’s death came his demise.)
Jehoash made Israel to sin again.
Amaziah’s reign was half a win.
Uzziah obeyed God zealously
till his pride bred leprosy.
Jeroboam II was wholly evil
but God showed mercy, spared His people.
Then five more in murderous succession
sat on a throne of endless transgression:
Zechariah, Shallum, and Menahem,
Pekahiah, Pekah—royal mayhem.

Back in Judah, King Jotham restored
the beloved gate of the house of the Lord.
When evil Ahaz took his turn as king
he burnt his son as an offering.
Hoshea was king when Israel fell
to Assyria (and was locked in a cell).
Hezekiah showed God to be gracious
and finally destroyed all the high places.
King Manasseh did not follow suit,
a bloody and idolatrous brute.
Amon came after—like father like son—
he also abandoned the Holy One.
But King Josiah read the Law,
humbled himself in penitent awe,
led the people in covenant,
restored and reformed till he was spent.
Then came three who couldn’t win:
Jehoahaz, Johoiakim, Jehoiachin.
Alas, Judah’s days came to an end
when King Zedekiah could not contend
with Nebuchadnezzar and his men—
a promised curse for the people’s sin.

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Fleeting moments…
Yes, these will fly
And he’ll be grown
In the blink of an eye.
True,
Sleepless hours
And baggy eyes
Won’t be missed,
But realize
That with them go
His newborn ways:
His coos and cries,
His cherub face.
With every season
Comes its joys
And challenges
Of raising boys.
So rest and revel
In this brief day
Before it turns
To yesterday.

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Bridesmaids all around me.
Sleek dress in champagne-white.
Dangly diamond earrings,
Lingerie for late tonight.

Putting on my makeup,
Slip into my dress.
Another ten long minutes…
I’m impatient, I confess.

Cameras in the corner,
Guests have settled in.
This is it! I’m getting married!
I take a step and walk toward him.

Deep anticipation,
All mystery and hope!
Beauty, glory, blessing,
Such kindness from my Lord.

And with a ring and vow,
A kiss of promised love;
We two become one flesh
And paint a picture of our God.

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