Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Steadfast Haunting

“I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears…

…Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He Whom thou seekest!
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest me
."

From “The Hound of Heaven”
Francis Thompson – 1889


Francis Thompson was an English Poet, often homeless and confessed opium addict who died of tuberculosis in 1907 at the age of forty-seven. “The Hound of Heaven,” his most famous poem, is an autobiographical account of how the Holy Ghost relentlessly pursued his wayward soul. 186 lines beautifully describe the struggle, conflict, betrayal, and his eventual surrender to The Hound’s steadfast love.

I ran across this poem about 2 years after I started my own careful consideration of these hauntings. Acknowledgment of the “situation” leads to more relentlessness. More banging. More baiting. More bugging. More begging. Polite persistence awaits me with an echoed voice reminiscent of Rex Allen Sr. and a Godly presence that only Christ, himself, could pull off.

Here is my version of Mr. Thompson’s account. I’ve had a difficult time finding an audience for this song.


Jesus is Haunting Me

Jesus is haunting me, Jesus is wanting me
Jesus is preying on me, he’s haunting me

Every turn, don’t learn, ignore all the friction
I’m against the grain, feel no pain, and hide my religion
I’m a fake it til I make it and fair weather Christian at best

Every look, on the hook, he’s showin me the good book
In my face, side the head, he’s hiding under my bed
A waitin’ and a baitin for the right time to reel me in

Jesus is haunting me, Jesus is wanting me
Jesus is preying on me, he’s haunting me

In the shadows, in the yard, on the hood of my car
He’s lurks and he works overtime chasin me far
I’m shaken, and awakened, he is scarin’ the hell out of me

Now I’m on the line, this time, everything is mighty fine
No doubt, devil’s out the first round, last bout
Oh Lord, My Lord, Thanks for being there for me

Jesus is haunting me, Jesus is wanting me
Jesus is praying for me…
He’s wanting me. He’s wanting me.

He’s haunting me.

Brian Hilligoss © 2008

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