An honest, vulnerable, and raw spoken word on battling lies and fear, and overcoming them by encountering and trusting the voice of Truth.

The work of rest:

I’m exhausted from work I’ve put in to accomplish a sense of success.

Achieving things I’ve hoped and dreamed yet

the one thing I can’t seem to conceive is, rest.

Peace, calm, serenity, often allude me because of this perfectionistic plague consuming me.

On the outside everything looks it’s thriving, but on the inside I’m just surviving,

hanging by a thread, going from one thing to the next,

if I’m not busy with my job, I’m busy with my thoughts, tryna find things to figure out, grasping at straws, tryna find something wrong, but I’m really grasping at the air,

can’t grab a hold of anything but anxiety, can’t control my life anymore and honestly

I don’t need to but this the only way I’ve known so I cling to this fear that says

I’m not enough, haven’t done enough, and won’t amount to much...

unless I try harder, unless I do better, unless I scramble to find all the missing pieces to this puzzle I’m not even in charge of completing,

it’s like I’m looking for a phone that ain’t lost, only to realize it was in my hand the whole time,

maybe I’m actually fine.

Maybe I’m more than fine, maybe I’m enough, maybe I can just be, and everything will happen naturally, because Everything I need to be who God made me to be is already in me. And maybe this man who I thought I was supposed to be, trying to be perfect, and have it all together, isn’t who I’m supposed to be.

Maybe all this tension is fighting for my attention because my name’s already mentioned in the Book of Life.

Funny cuz my name actually means Rest. I’ve done more wrestling than resting. But as I wrote this The reflection of the sun on the waterfall I was sitting at had created the image of a rainbow, the sign of a promise from God, a reminder that the reflection of His image in this son, created a Noah. And that was His work, not mine.

The paradox is that my work is to rest, not to be the best.

When this gets put to the test,

I’m reminded as I’m writing this,

to refer to the tattoo on my chest that says: “Yahweh Tsidkenu” The Lord is my righteousness.

Settle Down Son-

Fixated on things that are already fixed

Disturbed by matters already dealt with

Stressed by a trap that’s already sprung

Worried about a battle that’s already won

Settle down, son, I’ve already settled this.

To Be the Best

I’ve always wanted to be the best

a childhood dream

an admirable quest

a deep desire

for success

In sports

In school

In family

In life

As an athlete

a student

a husband, a father

a brother, a friend

and a God-fearing man

A dream I’ve chased

a desire misplaced

it seems in this race

I’m always outpaced

I’ve always wanted to be the best

a wish more than a dream

a never-ending quest

a deep ache—

never reaching my standard of success

Intense insecurity

performance anxiety

comparison

defensiveness

The side effects of the substance

I thought would solve

my scarce sense of self-worth

High off praise, a basket made

drunk off admiration, a job well done

buzzed by applause, a sermon well preached

intoxicated by achievement, a birdie on eighteen

Then comes the crash

Needing more likes (refresh notifications)

more affirmation (check the comment section)

obsessed with the score—I always want more

only to be attained by another accomplishment

Only for a moment

until the cycle starts again

a never-ending loop

unless I make the acknowledgment:

If I want to be the best

I will never rest

I will always come up short

in one way or another

I will feel ashamed and inadequate

I will envy others

But there is another way

a better goal to strive toward

that sounds insane

but truly wins the game

It’s what every coach said not to do:

“Give up.”

Stop trying to be the best. You don’t need to be.

You’re already loved.

You already belong.

You’re already a child of God.

And you didn’t achieve that—

you received it as a gift.

Be excellent.

Give your best effort.

Work, love, and play with your whole heart.

But do it from love, not for it.

And give God all the glory.

Don’t try to be the best.

Instead, rest.

You’d be surprised how He makes you

the best that you can be.

I dare you to try it.

Put it to the test.

A Poem: A Holy Fog

What if

What if the shifts we long for don’t always happen when the fog lifts?

But rather, when we make the decision,

to worship,

no matter how clear our vision.

I don’t just mean sing songs,

I mean to move at the pace of God, even when the place into which we wander is clouded with fog.

So often we wonder when the haze will clear, but what if we were amazed by it before it disappears?

Sometimes we get the clear skies we ask for,

Yet other times we are called to meander in this, mysterious mist.

Then when the fog lifts,

Even a glimpse is…

bliss

God knows what He’s doing whether or not we understand it,

His Goodness is not dependent on the weather, should our trust in Him be?

His guiding hand provides the next step, without showing the whole story in advance, we may only get a glance but…

Maybe that’s all we can handle,

Maybe there is a Holy Fog, that calls upon our courage, demands our trust, and blesses us beyond belief.

Maybe this fog is a path to freedom.

A poem: On my knees before my King:

On my knees before my King

Drawn there by false humility

And a sense of inadequacy

As I watch others kneel,

I feel the need to as well

I reach the ground and bow,

Head face down,

Arms outstretched

It looks (and feels) quite awkward honestly,

my body aches as my lack of flexibility

Inhibits my kneeling ability

Ashamed of my improper posture and form

I apologize to my King,

wishing my prostration could fit the norm

As I laugh bashfully at the whole situation,

and my perceived failure to

match the spirit of the congregation

builds in me a sense of frustration,

The King interrupts

And He responds,

with a smile:

“It’s okay, your heart has been bowed to me for a long time.”

I hear these words then see my King kneel down with me,

He sits on His knees in front of me,

pulls my head into His shoulder and says:

“I don’t think you realize how proud I am of you.”

He doesn’t need me to kneel because He already has my heart.

No proof of surrender needed, the proof is in the pudding

Though it’s no perfect score

My story is the evidence

So though I may start on my knees with head bowed before my King

And return there intermittently

I’m reminded that my King is also

my Father and Friend;

simultaneously.

He’s not just the King I bow down to

But the King who kneels down with me.

-Noah Baxter

Many of us wrestle with disappointment with God as we wander in the way. He doesn't always do what we want him to, or give us what we ask for, and sometimes that leaves us hurt, disillusioned, and confused. We aren't alone in this, Even the disciples felt this way, and they had Jesus right there with him. Yet even though Jesus is different than we thought, and different than we want, He is in fact better. He exceeds our expectations beyond our wildest dreams. We all come to Jesus because we want or need something from him, but as we follow Jesus, we slowly but surely realize that He is what we really want and really need, no matter how many of our expectations he doesn't meet, He is infinitely better , than we can ask think or imagine.

Different Than We Thought

They said You’d bring good news.

They said You’d overthrow oppressors.

They said You’d be a warrior.

They said You’d set captives free.

They said You’d cleanse the temple.

They said You’d lead the people.

They said You’d be the Shepherd.

They said You’d bring justice.

They said You’d judge the nations.

They said You’d be like Moses.

They said You’d be like Aaron.

They said You’d be like Elijah.

They said You’d be like David.

They said You’d be a Deliverer.

They said You’d be a Priest.

They said You’d be a Prophet.

They said You’d be the King.

You were.

You did.

Just not the way they expected.

Just not the way they wanted.

Different than they thought.

So they were all offended,

and they put You on the cross.

You upset.

You disappointed.

You inverted.

You turned the tables.

You flipped the script.

You washed feet.

You laid down Your life.

But little did they know—

this was no surprise.

This was not a loss.

It’s what You anticipated.

It’s exactly what You wanted.

It’s how You were exalted,

how Your true work was accomplished.

You overcame the powers, overthrowing spiritual darkness.

You set the captives free, delivering those bound in sin and death.

You healed the sick, cleansed the lepers.

You opened the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf.

You sat and ate with sinners, because they knew they should repent.

You were a great Warrior, fighting spiritual evil and opposing religious corruption.

You judged the nations with forgiveness to all who’d put their faith in You.

You are King of a spiritual Kingdom—spreading on earth as it is in heaven—

through love and self-sacrifice, not vengeance and force.

Through transformed hearts,

not tyrannizing systems.

The Messiah.

The Anointed.

The Chosen.

The Set-Apart One.

The Son of Man.

The Christ.

The Son of God.

Fulfiller of promises—

of the Torah, Law, and Prophets.

Filling full believers with Your Spirit

to carry on Your mission,

no matter what it costs.

Always getting better,

but different than we thought.

Here's a reflection and a poem I wrote about wrestling with the mystery and transcendence of who God is, the paradox's of His nature and His Word, and the tide of culture to wander away from God in the midst of wrestling with these realities, as opposed to wandering in the way.