December 3, 2010

Oh I am empty.
empty and in need, need so deep
fallen down where it is dark
and I am mired
and so alone
and all these years, You said You’d come,
oh come.

Oh come, can’t You see
I need Bread of Life
Word of God
Light of World
In this, my darkest silent empty place,
come now–

I am waiting.
We are waiting.

And one chosen grows heavy with child,
as we grow heavy with sin,
and she births hope
and we birth despair
and despair would murder hope,
driving deep into innocence,
but Hope conquers in the end–
Love conquers death–

death is swallowed up in victory.

and I wait.

Oh, let hope be born in me.


After the Cross

August 14, 2010

after the cross
under the blood
all darkness removed
in light’s holy flood

promise unfolding
blemish erased
beauty from dust
glory and grace

nothing between us
me and my Lord
all sweet communion
sinner restored

walking together
sit at His feet
rest in this mercy
life now complete

often I find myself
standing without
wiping my feet again
suffering doubt

forgetting forgiveness
living like lost
yet offered communion
after the cross

©Erin Kilmer, 2010


Written in response to LL Barkat’s post “When Did We Get ‘Spiritual Practice’ Stuck?


July 21, 2010

all this
weight and beauty
above me
–and i so small–
how shall i ever
find words to express it all?

©Erin Kilmer, 2010


July 5, 2010

by Erin Kilmer

and oh, You are mercy,
love, grace.

when sin’s curse would ravage our hearts,
stealing all hope for any tomorrow,
leaving us bereft, defeated, alone–

You step in then,
plead scars of nails,
death’s destroyers.

never without hope, Your people.
never without a forever of tomorrows
waiting just beyond sunrise.

we hide in hope, in Your rest.

and oh, You are mercy,
love, grace.

Behind the Cross

July 4, 2010

and this is a mighty God–
God thundering above loudest waterfall,
shaking earth with just a flick of finger,
coming upon mankind with black-cloud fury–
raising waves, pouring rain, shouting wind–
all holy power brought to bear
in justice against filthy sinful man.

and you stand trembling
watching wrathful storm front towering before you,
waiting for black clouds to explode–
lightning to fire forth–
deserving of this mighty holy judgment.

but this is a merciful God–
in one moment, everything awesome and holy and eternal
pressed into dying flesh,
thorn-crowned, nail-pounded, crucified–
all the pure power, just wrath hurled at you
landing, instead, on God made man.

stand you then, behind the cross,
or kneel down perhaps, or fall flat–
seeing the fullness of holiness and love
all for you.

and this is your God–
all His greatness and might
shielding you, protecting you, defending you now,
behind His cross.

rest then in peace.

mighty holiness loves you.


Inspired by David’s song in 2 Samuel 22 and today’s discussion in Sunday School.

June 3, 2010

It is my weakness, this I know.

It is my flesh that looks at this shadow
and sees solid fear-bricked wall.

My flesh that cannot see beyond this curtain–
this thin and gauzy veil.

My selfish heart sees only this lonely place,
my hot tears running down and breaking heart.

I see pain and fear and just the unknown alone–
my flesh the fool, my heart the weakling.

Oh, cover me in grace and mercy,
for I am weak and afraid.

Take this selfish from my heart, and give me peace
and joy for one who comes closer to Your presence.

Oh to be with You now, with You,
on the other side, waiting for Your redeemed to join us,

instead of here, watching and fearing as one I love
steps closer day by day to eternity.

But I am here, now, living, alive, in this life not yet everlasting,
in a home alive with young vibrant life,

and You are here now, guiding me my Shepherd,
just as You guide all Your beloved through the shadow.

Oh, flesh, dying day by day, you will not triumph.
Death is swallowed up in victory,

and you will not conquer me with fear
or with anger or bitterness because

this flesh and this earth and this dying
cannot hold His redeemed down.

I will weep, yes, and grieve, and mourn,
because this is night and shadow and pain,

but joy comes in the morning, Son rising,
and these goodbyes we say are never forever,

but He is and home is and life is,
when pain and tears and partings part.

Oh guide me, carry me, carry us,
for we need You, Conqueror of the grave.

You are Strength in weakness, this I know.

Erin Kilmer

Valley Deep

June 2, 2010

Valley Deep
by Erin Kilmer

It is only a shadow.
What is there to fear in a shadow?
No matter how dark,
how deep,
it is just a shadow,
and it cannot hurt us, not really.

I see it ahead–
valley and shadow–
and I do fear,
though I know a shadow is just
a substance-less thing.

I do not want to walk through the shadow.

I am afraid.

Walk with me, dear Shepherd?

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.


May 16, 2010

by Erin Kilmer

I have walked
in imaginary skies
amid sparkling star-gems,
wearing moondust as a cloak
and sunfire as a crown.

I have withered
in dungeons of my own creation,
behind bars of words
eating only scraps of
commas for my bread.

I have waited
in dark rooms imagined
with a candle for my light,
soft feet shod with
satin slippers.

I have wandered
through illusory vineyards
thick and heavy with fruit
dancing in dark juices
staining my feet with purple.

I have wondered
at the worlds my mind creates
when I daydream
where I am princess crowned
or pauper condemned.

I am wiser
now, for coming out of
dreams I find myself
in Your beauty always
more sparkling than my imagination.


May 2, 2010

My sin
is an Olympic-sized
swimming pool,
overflowing with
filth and murk and mess.

His grace
is Niagara Falls,
crashing down upon me
washing it all away in a moment,
and still always flowing down.



***”But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more . . .” (Romans 5:20b)***

April 23, 2010

by Erin Kilmer

I am


moving from
this small
to something

will you
with me