Full Circle (Poem)

This is a poem written by a good friend of mine, nearly four years ago. The poem speaks of the tension of the “already/not yet” aspect of our sanctification. We are already raised and seated with Christ in the heavenly places (Eph. 2:6) and our glorification is certain (Rom. 8:30) – but we still struggle with our sin (Gal. 5:16-17). It is a musing on what we will one day be, and already are, but not fully yet. The poem is deeply influenced by Rev. 19:12-21 and Gen. 2:25.


Oh that we’d return to what we once were,
Stark naked unashamed, bare souls under,
A million piercing gazes of light through the trees,
To know and be known, to be brought to our knees,
To let the mud flow freely beneath our feet,
No fear of making dirty our gasoline front-seats,
The sounds of children laughing near glassen blue streams,
Joy bursting out our hearts like morning’s first beams,
Artists painting colors shine brilliant as stars,
Reflections in our eyes are like suns inside jars,
Wooden beams reaching, to the bedsheets of earth,
Vast clouds billowing, not approaching His worth,

And We’ll walk with our maker,
And We’ll approach the throne,
Well see our names written,
Across the hands that made our own,
He’ll show us the mountains,
The storehouses of snow,
Where the grace flows like fountains,
We can never outgrow, 

Oh that we could fathom what we will become,
Eternal glories praising, who we could not escape from,
When our hearts shine like diamonds on a Risen King’s crown,
Satan’s city in our heart becomes an empty ghost town,
Climbing up trees by the brightly shining Cross,
Where man’s greatest crime became sin’s greatest loss,
We’ll talk about Jesus as the wedding bells ring,
We’ll put on a white dress and our Savior will sing,
A song of salvation from beginning of time,
A song of blood pouring from beauty divine,
We’ll see that those who were starving truly were first,
No more poor mothers suffering or children in thirst, 

And We’ll walk into the throne room,
And We’ll draw our first breath,
All things made new through the timeless one’s death,
With a sword in your mouth and fire in your eyes,
You’ll take vengeance on Satan for our Joy he denied,
We’ll rise up from our graves,
Dead men will soar,
For the lamb that saves,
And the lion who roars, 

Oh that we would live in light of who we truly are,
That we’d belong to Jesus, not fancy clothes and cars,
No longer playing by the gravestones of the men that we were,
Letting wild desire drive us ’round like a rotten chauffeur,
That we’d hold on to grace in the midst of our sin,
Not perverting it to dirty these clean hearts again,
Until the time comes, when we’re with you once more,
Through these fragile bones breaking,
Or your return to make war,
I’ll plant my flag on one truth, and one truth alone:
What you’ve bought with your blood, you would never disown.

– Written by Jon Lamendola, 2011


“Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.”

– 1 John 3:2


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