For Rowdy Christians Everywhere

by Dave Schultz

Visions of Mexico

  I crossed into Mexico like a child,

  bathing in the waters of innocence,

  baptized by night in a nameless river.

  A thousand bloody acts rinsed from memory,

  I woke with the long-sought will to worship,

  face-to-face with God himself in Eden.

  Mexico become my private Eden--

  a thousand tales of beauty for my child,

  and the presence of He whom all men worship:

  whose mercy sent me forth in innocence,

  with a holy command fresh in memory

  and strength for the far side of the river.

  Mexico moves me like a river,

  urging me to make this nation Eden;

  bringing Christ to mind with every memory;

  giving the lion-like heart of a child

  which will fight fearlessly for innocence,

  and which snarls out truth and roars God’s worship.

  In Mexico I lay prone to worship;

  found love and mercy beside a river;

  put off my sins to wear His innocence;

  had Christ touch my heart and show me Eden;

  admired the sky with the eyes of a child;

  and pressed the face of Love into memory.

  Visions of Mexico haunt my memory

  with inspired shivers each time I worship.

  I strive for words to explain to my child

  the voice I hear from each quiet river;

  how calm nights whisper, “This too is Eden”;

  how day breaks like a call to innocence.

  Mexico holds the hope of innocence.

  I am healed when I hold her in memory;

  blessed when I live with the wonder of Eden;

  cleansed when I confess, repent, and worship;

  saved when I leave my life in the river

  to be born again with the faith of a child.

  I follow a river back towards Eden,

  purge foul memory with liquid innocence,

  kneel to worship, and arise God’s own child.