Saturday, January 14, 2017

A Dark Day




















“This is what the LORD says— your Redeemer, who formed you in the womb: I am the LORD, the Maker of all things, who stretches out the heavens, who spreads out the earth by myself, who foils the signs of false prophets and makes fools of diviners, who overthrows the learning of the wise and turns it into nonsense, who carries out the words of his servants and fulfills the predictions of his messengers, who says of Jerusalem, ‘It shall be inhabited,’ of the towns of Judah, ‘They shall be rebuilt,’ and of their ruins, ‘I will restore them,’ who says to the watery deep, ‘Be dry, and I will dry up your streams,’ who says of Cyrus, ‘He is my shepherd and will accomplish all that I please; he will say of Jerusalem, “Let it be rebuilt,” and of the temple, “Let its foundations be laid.” ’   Isaiah 44:24-28
today was a dark day;
rainy and cloudy,
windy and cold;
gloomy and sinister;
it felt like there was
something I needed to do,
but I didn’t know what,
sometimes it feels
as though this is the
story of my life;
dark days and
not knowing what
to do;
I saw a specialist yesterday
about my herniated disk,
he suggested trying a nerve block,
he doesn’t know if it will work,
but it beats the alternatives,
so I’m going to go with it;
I watched a show about Hitler
on the military channel,
it was about his rise to power,
and the extraordinary events
that made it happen,
it almost seemed supernatural,
which is exactly what it was;
monsters like him
only exist because God allows it;
while watching the thought occurred
that perhaps his whole purpose
was to put the Jewish people
through a great refining trial,
a test,
before being allowed
to return to their ancient homeland,
it made me wonder if perhaps
the whole purpose of America
becoming a nation,
almost 200 years earlier,
was to make it possible
for Hitler’s eventual defeat
and pave the way
for God’s chosen people
to return to their promised land,
just like perhaps,
the purpose of the Roman Empire
was to create the circumstances
through which a 700 year old prophecy,
that the Messiah would die on a tree,
could be fulfilled,
and that the news of His resurrection,
could be spread through the known world of the time,
by the technology of Roman roads
and transportation systems;
perhaps;
although I’m sure,
scholars and experts,
much wiser than I,
would laugh at such a notion,
but then it wouldn’t be
the first time
God has used seemingly
unrelated and unimaginable plans
to confound the wise and knowledgeable;
would it?
who would have thought
a rag-tag band of uneducated,
fishermen and peasants,
would confound and confuse
the wise men of their day,
witnessing and testifying
to the greatest event
in the history of mankind?
who could have imagined it?
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Slaves


















In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.   John 1:1-5
products of our own choices,
masters of impossibilities and
empty desires,
creatures of cold-hearted witness;
slaves to life,
slaves to death,
slaves to everything,
slaves to nothing;
such is our destiny,
such is our fate;
followers of a far distant night,
lost travelers upon forgotten
highways,
eventually everything
loses its value,
everything fades,
everything fails,
everything crumbles back
into the dust from
where it came;
I want to be free,
I want to breathe
once again;
life is as temporary as
the moment,
as fragile as the
morning dew,
when it has all passed;
there will always be
You.
.

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Stolen Ground
















I have tasted heights so high,
I have swam depths so deep,
touching things along the way
which were never mine to keep,
traveling beyond all there
was to know,
yet still there is more,
so much more to go;
confusion and sorrow color
these early morning skies,
answers lie hidden
among alternatives and
cascading lies,
places once called home,
crumble into the far-off fading light,
faces once called friends
disappear into the approaching black
of this forever growing night;
take my hand,
lead me from this land,
hear my voice,
help me make a stand;
darkness grows above,
storms rise from below,
unlikely pretenders
prepare for the final show,
in this never ending battle
which can never be won,
raging just beyond
all that can be overcome;
into the nighttime void a
whispers do sound,
shadows of tomorrow looming large
across this stolen ground,
mistakes of yesterday forever lost,
innocent blood shed,
freedom at such a staggering cost;
take my hand,
lead me from this land,
hear my voice,
help me make a stand.
.

.

Dead Places




















dead places,
hidden among the rain soaked fields,
call out like long lost friends,
searching for days gone by,
and empty roads
never traveled;
grand plans,
big ideas,
so much lost on the way,
in this desolate wilderness
called home;
it scares them to know,
someone sees through their masks,
their charades,
they grow uneasy,
when they see themselves
through the eyes of another,
tossing and turning,
generating huge ocean waves,
among the tranquil seas;
fools;
playing foolish games
with deadly consequences,
children lost in chaos
and hopeless jungle forests;
dead places
know.
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My Home


























we hide inside these houses,
dreaming of the tomorrows,
imagining the possibilities,
running from the darkness,
mystified by the mystery,
trapped within the illusion,
waiting for the destination;
forever seeing,
but never knowing;
forever hearing,
but never understanding;
if it were up to me,
I would stay in this place,
seeking shelter from the storm,
swallowed up by the myth,
drowning in the depths,
growing cold from the emptiness,
guarding Your truth
like a rare and precious jewel,
but Your grace knows better;
Your will demands more;
I am searching for my home,
but I don’t know how to get there,
so I quietly wait in the wilderness,
running from the ghosts,
hiding from the demons,
praying for a tomorrow;
my home is neither here nor there,
not ahead or behind,
not without or within,
my home is in a land far away,
a whisper on the howling wind,
a flicker in the candlelight glow;
close your eyes and it is forever gone;
my home is nothing,
my home is everything,
my home is all there is.
.

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Wilderness


























But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.   2 Corinthians 12:9-10
the night grows darkest,
before the approaching dawn,
the struggle becomes greatest,
with journey’s end just out of sight;
look down on me with mercy O Lord,
pull me from these raging waters,
guide me through this wilderness
that surrounds my every side;
let me hold on to You;
reveal Your will for my life,
fill me with Your Holy Spirit,
let me glorify Your name,
let me be Your servant;
forever;
through my weakness O Lord,
may Your strength be made perfect,
through my iniquities and transgressions,
may Your love shine like a beacon in the night;
without You I am nothing but dust;
Your mercy and grace are sufficient,
Your love and sacrifice enough,
You alone have the power to overcome,
You alone have defeated death;
to You does all glory belong,
to You shall all glory be given,
for You and You alone are Lord,
You and You alone are King.
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Thursday, January 12, 2017

Imperfection


























When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.” So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him. Luke 5:8-11
Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” Mark 5:36
my soul has tasted madness,
my soul lies dying in the dust,
choking on the excess,
drowning in the lust,
caught up in the illusion,
dried up,
empty,
no where left to turn,
no where left to run,
guilty as charged;
once again You
raise me from the depths,
once again You
wrap me in Your love,
Your righteousness and glory
more than my filth ridden flesh
can bear,
Your perfection
overwhelming the imperfection
of all that I am;
Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!
once again You quietly whisper;
Don’t be afraid; just believe.
my God,
my King,
my Everything.
.

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