I Present “Spring”

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What can I say about Spring
that you don’t already know?
It’s about the joy of new life.
New life from old life.
New life out of death.
New life is alive with the bloom of everlasting life.
Exultant!
Joyous!
Achingly beautiful!

Vivaldi knew music, and he knew Spring in a unique, special way.
He composed the following music about Spring:
To my mind, it is exultant, joyous, and achingly beautiful
just as are the colorful flowers, butterflies, birds, and bees herein.
New life from old life.
New life out of death.
It’s another way to tell of God’s glory, another facet of proclaiming His brilliance!
Dear reader, I present you with colorful new life,
I present you with Vivaldi’s “Spring”.

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Thank you Simon S. Alba for posting this video.

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A Re-run To Fill The Seeming Void – – – HIS PRAYER EXPANDED

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I’ve not been forthcoming with new material, but I’ve been writing right along.
While I finish that work, here’s a re-run to mark time.
I assure you that new material is forthcoming,
assuming that I’m still working here in the physical “plain”
(or plane, if you’re literal and a discerning speller, that was an ordinary pun, haha)


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My Father

Oh, my Father-God and my Lord, Who walks the vast halls of Heaven,
where You live, and breathe, and reign sovereign
over everything finite and eternal.
From where You speak.
From where You write Your Word.
From where You see all, know all, and do all.
From where You give Your unfathomable grace,
your mercy, and forgiveness.
From where You open Your hands and pour out goodness,
and from where You sent Your Love Incarnate, Immanuel.

Your name is Holy.
Let me kneel humbly, respectfully,
in reverence to Your glorious name.

May Your kingdom, Your realm, be established,
may Your kingship be proclaimed,
may everything You desire to happen
be done here on Earth, just as it is in Heaven.

I ask that You continue to provide all I need
in the form of wholesome food and water to nourish my body,
as well as Your Living Bread, and Your Living Water,
and understanding of Your Word, with personal revelation,
to nourish my soul.

I ask that You help me remember how You paid my debts
on the horrible cross of torture.
How You took my sin upon Yourself, Jesus.
How You gave Yourself in propitiating atonement, and in conciliation,
and appeasement, for my trespasses against You, Father-God.
Help me Lord to continue to learn to forgive others their debts against me,
their trespasses, wrongs, crimes, and sins against me,
just as You have so mercifully and graciously forgiven mine through Christ.

I ask You, Lord, to lead me away from the temptations of this world.
Help me keep your Word, Your principles, in obedience.
Lead me through the minefields, the snares, and the pitfalls,
for they are many, and my enemy shows me only the bait,
but hides the trap well.
Protect and deliver me from that devil, from that evil one, in Jesus name!

And finally, Almighty Father, I want to proclaim Your Kingdom.
It is the Kingdom of kingdoms, and You are the King of kings!

I proclaim that Your power is absolute.
It is the power that created Beautiful Creation in its entire completeness.
It is the power to create human beings in Your image;
human minds, souls, and hearts.
It is the awe-inspiring, miraculous power to change those hearts,
and save those souls.

And, I proclaim Your Glory, Lord.
How can I explain Your Glory?
It is too beautiful, too splendidly colorful, too exquisitely bright!
How can I illuminate it?
It blinds my eyes, baffles my mind, closes my mouth.
It is love unleashed, fervent, and intense.
It is Your inexplicable mercy, and grace, and kindness, and generosity.
It is as inexplicable as You, my God.
You’re glorious in Your Glory.
You ARE the Most High Lord,
Holiness Itself,
Ancient of Days,
The Great I AM.

Yes, Yours is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory,
for all time, and through unfathomable eternity.
You are my ABBA, my Heavenly Father-God
to Whom I pray this prayer, as You have instructed.
I ask these things and proclaim these things
in the love of Jesus’ most holy name.
Amen, and Amen.


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Indescribable

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And we all,
who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory,
are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory,
which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.
2 Corinthians 3:18

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God,
through His Word,
through His physical presence on earth,
through His presence in us,
describes something which,
through words alone,

is by its nature,
basically indescribable;

His glory.
Yet I persist in trying to describe it.
For His own reasons, He asked me to.
I don’t fully understand that, but I willingly comply.
He unveiled my face.
How can I describe the glory of God,
Even to willing believers,
Unbelievers notwithstanding?
Understanding of it can only bloom out of personal knowledge.
I’m a scribe for the impossibly indescribable.
How can I explain the joy which comes out of knowing Him,
The love,
Compassion,
Forgiveness,
Mercy,
Grace,
Spirit?

. . . I can’t.
I can only attempt to tell my perception of them.
How they affect me.
How they feel inside the heart of my spirit.
I can’t express the wonder of those concepts
without His intervention in the heart and mind of the reader.

Even though transformed,
Even though called and qualified,
I can’t on my own merit, describe the indescribable. 
Glorytelling would be a glaring futility without the guiding companionship of His Spirit.
Where does this come from,
This contemplation of the Divine,
This glorytelling,
This scribing of the indescribable?
Where does your own high calling come from?
It comes from the lovingkindness of the Lord,
From His wise will,
From the heart of His Holy Spirit,
And the image He pours us into, shines with ever-increasing glory,
And THAT, once again, is exquisitely indescribable.

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Being Is

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My being is in the Lord.
My being is with Him.

Walking awkwardly has become free running,
tireless leaping,
unfettered flying.

Looking has become sharp seeing,
watching moving lights and still,
colors dancing,
cloudless clear sight of wondrous beauties,
beauties perishable and eternal.

Listening for frightful noises in the night has become bell-clear hearing,
the uttermost enjoyment of the sounds of earth-spring,
the indescribable musics weaving through all seen and unseen Creation.

Living has become much more than the opposite of dying,
than waiting to die,
than a one-shot party,
than a self-serving, self-sustaining joyride.
Living has become the unfathomable gift of participating in being;
in having sacred existence which arises,
and is redeemed,
out of Christ’s Being and Existence.

Life has come –
has come to be lived,
set free as life before never was,
soaring with joy,
full of purpose,
everlasting,
life is,
life has come.

Mere existence has become transcendent-being,
True-being,
being rooted in Him.
‘Being-wise’, it can never again be otherwise;
When my Being is in the hands of The Highest Lord.
When my Being is with Him.
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*Cold Without You * A Followup

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One never knows what one will get after posting a piece of work.
I could expect more from a box of chocolates.
I never know what to expect.
I’m often surprised.
Surprised by my disappointment, or maybe by an enjoyable comment,
but not surprised much, any more, by the usual (normal; to be expected?)
plain, every-day apathy.

What I kind-of hoped for was that a reader would notice the
abject hopelessness of the poem and ask if I were okay,
(it sure seems as though someone’s not okay)
ask if I needed prayer, offer an encouraging word,
or a word of wisdom.

(I, personally, don’t like missing
a chance to offer a word
out of compassion, sympathy,
or just empathy when someone
seems in despair.
I do miss chances, but don’t like it,
especially when due to my own neglect)

(I at least thought someone
would comment on the work itself,
for I judge it one of my best works
of lyrical poetry. Ahhh, well . . .)

After all, everyone wants to be

noticed,
attended to,
comforted,
consoled,
cared for,
defended,
liked,
loved,
understood,
commiserated with,
shown concern,
cared about,
soothed,
encouraged,
accepted,
included,
shown sympathy,
stood up for,
identified with,
rescued,
shown kindness,
and/or
shown just a touch of human tenderness.

Everyone – at least at some time during their lives,
whether they admit it or not.

It’s all right!  I’m not in despair!
So how did I write “Cold” as though I were?
I wrote from a place I have been before.
Why did I risk going back to “that place” to possibly get stuck there again?
Why should I want to expose myself to those feelings again?
Because I’ve been saved from them. My despair has been redeemed!
I have no fear of it!
I wrote “Cold” mainly for those who haven’t been saved.
For them, for me, and for all of us.
I wrote it in memoriam for what once was, but is not now.
“Memoriam” = memory of I AM.  (Ha! Yes!)

I write for those who live in despair, and fear, and hopelessness,
and who don’t yet know redemption.

So, you might ask, who is the missing “you”, the metaphoric one
to whom those desperate pleas are addressed?
Is it a lost love? Is it love itself?
It could be.
Is it “the one” who was never found, though constantly dreamed of?
The “one” deemed the answer to all problems, trials, and pain?
Is it a relationship? Is it a soul-mate, a friend, a heroic rescuer?
Is it a long-sought, ever longed-for but unknown lover?
Is it about bad decisions; wrong paths followed;
misplaced trust; looking for answers in the wrong places;
believing in
a false Lord, or none at all?
It could be any or all of those.
The reader must decide.
(I’ll leave it to you to unravel the mystery of the “tapestry
of the Elven loom”.)

From my viewpoint, all the right answers, solutions;
the trust, love, belief, and salvation needed
are embodied in one person.
Jesus Christ, of the manger.
Jesus Christ, of the cross.
Jesus Christ, Lord of all.
Jesus Christ, who fills all the above human needs,
and with whom a relationship gives a joy
which covers sorrow and despair,
and which throws a rope of solid hope to anyone
mired in the quicksand of hopelessness.

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Thank you, dear reader!
Your reading and sharing of my stuff
means more to me than you might be able to guess.
Thank you!

In closing:
“Just remember, every heart holds its sorrows,
yet every heart which knows The Highest Savior
also knows the hope that brings the upwelling of  joy
that comforts sorrow and brings an exciting kind of peace.”
Gloryteller, 1-21-2014

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Cold Without You – Song of Despair


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φ

Cold Without You

( Vaerse 1 )

What cold, hard stone where I lie,
What bitter womb is this ice,
Bears me down into despair,
The colder that you’re not here,
Don’t seem to be anywhere,
So . . lonely . . . cold.

( Chaurus )

Oh! Have I been a hope-struck fool,
To wait for you,
To make me whole,
Be everything,
To warm my soul,
Thaw my heart –
Make it sing?

2.

How hard the isolation,
I always thought that you’d come,
To take me into the sun,
Before my time is undone,
I can’t endure alone,
So . . broken . . . cold.

( Chaurus 2 )

Here I lay naked on this stone,
My tired bones,
Count all the loss,
Dark, empty cold,
Where have I gone?
What have I done?
Why won’t you come?

3.

Oh! Once I thought I had you.
Soul’s Joy! Just knew I had you,
Was close, but not the real you . . .
Left with nothing all too soon,
How I suffer without you.
So . . shattered . . . cold.

(Chaurus 3 )

I dream it’s warmer where you are,
Won’t you come take me there,
The real you,
The depth of you,
The joy of you,
The weight of you,
I’m . . fading . . . ( soon . . . . ).

4.

Where is the place that you are,
How sad I dream it’s not far,
I sometimes feel you are near,
Cry out, but you never hear,
I’m entrapped in frozen tears,
So . . stranded . . . cold.

( Chaurus 4 )

The warm, rich tapestry of you,
From Elven loom,
My grasp eludes,
Cold, mocking moon,
His chill exudes,
What aching doom,
Rescue . . me . . . soon . . . .

5.

How numbing is this north wind,
How cutting through my pale skin,
How sharp, it pierces my heart,
This winter gnaws me apart,
Once was light, all is now dark,
So dim . . .
So . . . cold . . .

( Chaurus )

Oh! Have I been a hope-struck fool,
To wait for you ,
To make me whole,
Be everything,
To warm my soul,
Thaw my heart –
Make it sing?

6.

Oh! Solitary misery,
This hungry wind devours me,
Your loss and lack I mourn,
All else I could have borne,
How thin my fabric has worn,
So . . deathly . . . cold

( Chaurus )

The warm, rich tapestry of you,
From Elven loom,
My grasp eludes,
Cold, mocking moon,
His chill exudes,
What aching doom,
Rescue . .
me . . .
soon . . . .

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© Len Snider, Gloryteller.com, 1-18-2014
All Rights Reserved

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He. Came. Down.


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He Came Down

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He came down.
Mary said YES,
then He came down.
Born like us.
Born with us.
Born for us.
Born to us.
Born unto us.
Born into us.
He came down from His Glory,
Leaving Holy Home and Father, to become a creation, in a real sense, just like us . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
To be born most humbly into the broken, reeking mess that we, mankind, had made of the world.
To be born into the shameful, smelly mess that I had made of my own wretched heart . . . . . . . . . . .
The defenseless egg of God,
having scarcely a shell.
A tender shoot,
a tiny lamb,
he came down naked,
to be born covered
with another’s blood,
mother’s blood.
Born to be pierced,
and poured out,
and to cover all
others with His
pure, holy blood.
He came down
with only Love as a defense.
Double-sided love.
He came down to the dung heap,
the lowest, the basest of places,
a place of no honor; of ignobility,
because that’s where I was,
I and my neighbors,
hiding under the
layers of dirt.
He could have said
“No, not again”.
He could have said
“To hell with this” . . .
He didn’t have to
rise from His manger
to knock on my
heart’s door.
To clean it all,
just like new,
from ceiling to floor,
window, to wall,
and spend His life,
His all, for me,
to bear away my sin.
Yet, He would be
the first to admit,
if He weren’t so humble,
that He did have to.
Someone had to
do something.
But no-one could
except Himself.
I didn’t deserve
His coming down, this
Wonderful Counselor,
this Mighty God,
Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.
This Immanuel.
Savior Lord.
JESUS CHRIST!
But, He came down,
out of love,
bearing light,
carrying forgiveness,
sowing grace like seeds,
ready with a cool drink,
gentle hands to wash our feet,
with tears of compassion,
where sin and mercy meet,
and I’m so glad,
so happy,
so joyously thankful
that He did,
that my glory goes up.
I send it up.
I glorify His name,
Who was born into many names,
and into ONE name,
and that name is
The-Name-Above-All-Names.
He came down,
and now He reigns
King of My Heart.

Glory to God in the Highest Heaven!
That

He.
Came.
Down!
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The Happiest Christbirth to you, today!
LS< Your Gloryteller
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A Gift of Musical Joy, Peace, and Hope, Just For You

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A Children’s Christmas Carol for Everyone

I lift up Keith and Kristyn Getty and I thank them for this beautiful song.
Remember,  JESUS is the subject of Christmas, and the object of Christmas is US.

LS

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“The Perfect Christmas Gift”,
written and performed by Sandy Howell.
Uploaded by Bob Marshall.
Many thanks to you both.
My friend, I give you the gift of a song; music with a video.  It speaks for itself.

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Hope Came Down

He came down so that we could live – really live – with Him and our loved-ones in Heaven.
Forever together.
We need that hope more with each passing day . . .

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Mary, Did You Know?

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Not One, Single Life Can Compare To His . . .

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One Solitary Life

Here is a man who was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman.
He grew up in another obscure village, where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty, and then for three years He was an itinerant preacher.
He never wrote a book.
He never held an office.
He never owned a home.
He never had a family.
He never went to college.
He never put his foot inside a big city.
He never traveled two hundred miles from the place where He was born.
He never did one of the things that usually accompany greatness.
He had no credentials but Himself.
He had nothing to do with this world except the naked power of His divine manhood.
While still a young man, the tide of public opinion turned against Him.
His friends ran away.
One of them denied Him.
Another betrayed Him
He was turned over to His enemies.
He went through the mockery of a trial.
He was nailed to a cross between two thieves.
His executioners gambled for the only piece of property
He had on earth while He was dying—and that was his coat.
When he was dead, He was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave
through the pity of a friend.
Twenty wide centuries have come and gone, and today He is the centerpiece of the human race and the leader of the column of progress.
I am far within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched,
and all the navies that ever were built,
and all the parliaments that ever sat,
and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as has this One Solitary Life.


Dr James Allan Francis in “The Real Jesus and Other Sermons”
© 1926 by the Judson Press of Philadelphia
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As eloquent and powerful as this piece is,
I feel that
even this is inadequate to explain
the full importance of our Immanuel’s life,
sacrificial death, and resurrection on this planet.
–Your Gloryteller

 

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On Using Seemingly Questionable Christmas Traditions For Good

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“What do you think about the lie of Santa Clause?” asked nobody.
“Sure, I’d be glad to weigh in on the Santa controversy,” I replied . . .

It has been said, ad nauseum, that secular traditions such as Christmas trees, Santa Clause, and even the word “Christmas” should be condemned by Christians because they distract and detract from the true meaning of Christ’s birth.
I disagree.
Those many traditions are so ingrained into society that they cannot be reversed nor abolished. They can, however, be used in a positive manner. I’ve previously discussed how the Christmas tree points to Jesus Christ. It is easy for me to tell, as well, how Santa’s (“Saint Nicholas‘ “) life and existence points, to the life and teachings of Jesus.
I only implore you, dear reader, not to foster the lies about Santa Clause, St. Nicholas, or Father Christmas, but tell the factual truth about them. It’s the same for the the gift-giving, the lights, and the joyous celebrating. One can ignore any or all of it, but I believe that we should not only accept, as a fact of life, the secular traditions; the things that have been distorted and perverted away from the original intent of honoring the Christ-child, but turn them back upon themselves to their true purpose which is to celebrate His birth, to point to Him, to highlight Him, and to glorify Him in the unfettered, hopeful, optimistic, rejoicing manner in which the host of angels announced His arrival to the shepherds, and to us.
Those traditions can be used to help us illuminate Him in a darkened world. I believe that is our commission, our duty, and our pleasure, as believers and as beneficiaries of The Father’s miraculously humble, and humbling gift.
The gift of The Savior Child is given to every one of us, but it must be accepted before it can be unwrapped and enjoyed.

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Whatever you do,
Whatever you think,
Seek Him in all things
And have yourself a happy,
Have yourself a joyous,
Have yourself the merriest Christmas!

Above all,
Remember Who is glorious,

Give Him all your glory,
Keep it Christmas-Story-ous!

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O Christbirth Tree, O Christbirth Tree!

 

χ
My
Christbirth
**tree is ever-green**
**With everlasting life**
Its branches are its members
***Clothed in colorful lights***
**Lights reflected by ornaments**
******Of all shapes and sizes******
*****Which shine just as brightly*****
********It’s filled with surprises!********
*******Wrapped ’round with garland*******
*************As a bundling rope*************
************The whole tied together***********
***********With warm faith and hope***********
**************The star at its crown is**************
***************Wreathed in white light**************
***************Can be seen near and far***************
************’Cause it’s clear, pure, and bright************
*****************That’s the part of the tree*****************
*******************That ultimately pleases*******************
**************************You see*****************************
*************For the Star at the point and the apex****************
******************************Is Jesus*****************************
****************And the branches, the lights, and ornaments************
*******************************Are we***********************************
************************For He is the Bridegroom**************************
********************We are His church, bride, and wife**********************
*********************The trunk that stands in The Water,********************
***************************The Water of Life.*******************************
Water
of
Life

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Happy Christbirth!

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IT’S CHRISTBIRTH! I Don’t Like “Christmas”, But I Really Like Christmas.

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Please let me explain my title.
No, I don’t like the word Christmas.
I don’t like the word Easter either.
But I very much love what those two words represent.
Words are only symbols that we use to convey,

or identify, things, events, or ideas. Often, the words
we devise (or, in this case, that are devised for us) are
less than ideal, or appropriate, to represent the actual thing
being described. I believe that “Christmas” is such a word.
I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to delve into the origins,
meanings, and protests concerning the word “Christmas”.
I have been through it, and it’s not pretty.
Some say it’s downright blasphemy, wickedness, and sin to use it.
However,
Nevertheless,
and, Be That As It May,
The event that has come to be known to us as “Christmas”
is the event that shook the earth.
It is the truth of the event that is important, not the word we have adopted to
describe it. To me, the birth of Jesus was, and is, the most momentous
occurrence in history. It is to be celebrated – its story told and retold in truth
to the ends of the earth.
So ( Blast semantics!) I say Merry Christmas, and by that I mean
Rejoice!
Celebrate enthusiastically!
For, to us a child is born! Our Savior lives!

I prefer the word
“Christbirth”
(which I think I have invented, haha, but probably someone beat me to it)
to represent this wondrous, marvelous Event,
but, no matter what word we use in reference,
in His birth, the very Word of God came to live among us, with us,
and in us, so that we too might be “born” into a new world, a world
of faith, of hope, and of love;
born in a new, a wondrous, and a marvelous way.
Happy Christbirth!
Merry Christmas!
Rejoice!

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Happiness Is Being Born TWICE!

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Today is the anniversary of my second-birth day.
My rebirth day.
My original birth was kind of like Christmas;
Without it, there could have been no Resurrection Day.
Without my first birth, I could not have been reborn.
My life could not have been repaired, resurrected and redeemed.
First was my birth day,
Then an Advent of sorts – a long time of waiting and preparation.
(even if I didn’t realize some of that stuff, that garbage was preparation)
Then the great gift of joy in a second-birth day!
Needless to say, for my birth and rebirth
I am extremely thankful!

Happy birthdays to me,

Happy birthdays to me,
For both, I am thankful!
Happy birthdays to me!

Thank you, Jesus,

For making it possible!
For me, and for all people!
Thank you, our Highest Lord!


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The Primal Christmas Tree

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

(One Star and five prime numbers . . . a tree of perfection!)


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The

Star is

on top, sovereign

in His supreme place.

His light illuminates all life

below.  All below Him, made in perfection.

Gathered, enfolded, protected – like a mother hen does – under His wings.


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Is this tree upside-down? Wrong? Distressing? Let it not be so!  It

is made in perfection, for He is still supreme and sovereign.

All lives supported upon His shoulders. Kept

by His strength. Maintained by

His goodness.  Lit

by His

Love.

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Remember, Trust, and Fear Not

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^                ^

I’m like Israel.
I’m always in some stage of forgetting.
Forgetting what God has done for me.
Always in some season of fluctuating lack, or abundance, of trust.
Lacking trust in Him.
Always wandering back and forth in the space between complete remembrance
and idolatry.
Between desperate, abiding trust,
and going aside to find my own way.
Gaining freedom.
Careless with freedom.
Freedom tipping dangerously
back and forth at the edge of destruction.
And so it is with my country.

It is said that great civilizations can’t be destroyed from without,
but easily from within.
I try to fight The Worm inside;
the one who hides its presence.
Insidious.
Parasitic.
Spanning the length of my inner workings.
Feeding, wiggling, waiting.
Trying to poison me gradually,
without my noticing.
But I notice.
I know it’s there
trying to kill the very one who feeds it.
And I try to poison it back.
In anger.
In revenge.
I take poisons to kill it,
or, at least, to drive it out.
But it won’t go,
And that’s killing me . . .

Alas! I have forgotten, once more,
that I can’t, and never could, by myself.
That there is The Saving Promise,
and The Trust in its Maker
that I let fade to my own harm.
I’ve only to remember that He has defeated that Worm.
Has His foot on its neck.
It knows it’s finished, yet
it writhes and thrashes,
and spews its poison,
Attempting to inflict yet one more wound inside.
But it is harmless as long as I remember to trust Him;
to keep Him precisely between myself and that monster.
Remember and trust.
Oh, Israel!
I can’t, even for one moment, forget,
Nor let trust fail.
Nor neglect thanking Him for what He has done, is doing, and will do.
To keep me safe.
And to keep me free.

~So it is with me.~
~And so it is with my country.~

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That “Thin Place”

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Sometimes,
Writing a message from My Light,
Or reading one,
Hearing His music,
Kneeling in His worship,
Sitting at His feet,
Or under His cross,
Or walking with Him in this thick here-and-now,
In wonder,
In humility,
Gratefully,
I approach that thin place.
Gracefully,
He allows me to perceive it,
To touch its elusive, wispy certainty,
Delicate, like a hint of misty fragrance,
Even to weave my fingers through it
To sense where The Father is.~
~That holy thin place which, so lightly,
So fleetingly, separates;
So gently lies between
This weighty place,
Where I am,
And eternity.
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Friendship Matters

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^ ~ ^

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(I like a title that can be read two ways.)
(I like how, together, words can play.)

^ ^

A week ago, it came “to light” that:
“Our friendship has made a difference.”
That difference, not just to us (and for us),
although that is very significant to me,
but to the various communities to which we belong.
And not only because we completed a worthwhile project together,
but in the larger sense, in which a 1+1 relationship, when blessed, can equal “3”.
In the matter of friendship, “blessed” is the key word,
for I had been relatively alone, friend-wise,
for many years, in this city,
before He saved and transformed me,
and blessed me in many ways.
Now I have many meaningful Christian friendships.
I understand something of Christian love,
and the love of Father God which surpasses full understanding.
I hadn’t known what I had been missing!



~A treasure greatly precious, and rare,

is the time spent with a close friend.
Life spins and circles smoothly there,
Where, on a bond, one can depend.~

I’m reminded of how Jesus called the unworthy disciples
His friends,
and of how he calls us unworthy believers
His friends.
(We are unworthy by ourselves, but with Him,
our friend IN us,
we are made worthy.)
He taught His friends.
He showed them the Way, the Truth, and the Life,
through His companionship,
through showing them Himself –
His true Self.

He knew this verse:
Proverbs 27:17    “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.”

~As crystal dust polishes crystal,
so one believer polishes another.~

His brother knew something astute about errant friendship:

James 4:4   “. . . don’t you know that friendship with the world
is hatred toward God?
Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world
becomes an enemy of God.”

Undoubtedly, Jesus is THE best friend that any and every person could have.
(What A Friend  We Have In Jesus)
All that He hears from the Father, He shares with us.
I am His personal friend, and He is mine!
That friendship made, makes, and will make,
the greatest difference in the whole world,
of all time,
for everyone,
forever.

Remember that a friend is more than the condition of having access to someone’s social media page.
It takes more than accepting a digital request to be a real friend.
It takes precious time to be a companion,
~and companionship is the jelly on the bread of friendship.~
To anyone who is “a friend of the world”,
and not a friend of Jesus, you are like I was –
you don’t know what you are missing,
and I say that in the kindest, most compassionate way possible.

The best friendships are based on a mutual relationship with God.
David and Jonathan come to mind as Biblical best friends.
“Let God be between us,” said Jonathan, who had everything to lose,
yet, because of his love,
was loyal in saving brother-in-law, and close friend, David.

Friendship makes a difference! 
And not only to the friends involved,
but in an expanding sphere
which engulfs all creation.

Let God’s blessing be between us, as well,
as it has been,
as He has seen to it that friendship
has indeed inspired this message,
and it matters.

Yes, our friendship has made a difference,
is making a difference,
and will make a positive difference,
just as Jesus’ holy friendships
Have always,
are now,
and always will
make THE BIG difference.
All the difference in the world.
All the difference in His everlasting Kingdom.

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Reviewing My Past As I Look Forward To Leaving Time Behind

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^ ^ ^ ^ ^

My life is being read back to me
by a speed-reader becoming more adept
with practice; soon a master,
fading lines racing,

the pages turning faster,
the rate of turning accelerating,
quickly, inexorably revealing my story, 
which, hopefully, was, and is,
And will be, all to Jesus’ glory.

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^ ^ ^ ^ ^

You’re right, those of you who say I spend a lot of time reliving my past,
reminiscing in nostalgic reflection,
Recalling recollected memories.
That’s not such a bad thing is it,
considering there is much more of my past behind me
than there is of my future ahead of me?
(Of course I’m speaking Earthily and physically, not spiritually.)

Jesus, my saviour, knew that feeling, I think.
In His early thirties.
Lines racing.
During His ministry.
Pages turning inexorably.
A man (Man) of time – living in time.
A fellow victim of time?
A fellow captive?
A servant of time?
(If a victim, a captive, or servant, He was a perfect one)
At least, a subject of time, bound by its rules.
Hardly as old as I am.
Half my age, His time was running out.
Time leaks away, as lifeblood from a relentlessly-dripping wound.
Yet He knew He was going to live “forever”
(was there a moment of horror when He thought He wouldn’t?)
in a place where the words “past”, and “future”,
and “before”, and “after”, and “forever”
have no meaning except in the context of life in the world
– the physical, materially-created universe.
In Heaven, there is only “now”, I reason.
(Even then, a special and unique kind of now.)
(Some say, even here, that “now” is all that exists)
But time is only for The World, even though
God is able, I think, to move in and out of this time-ridden world at will.

Things have happened.
Other things will possibly happen . . .
Yes!  This next line happened!
Sequence!
Time has kept all my lines from happening at once!

As I draw closer to my last line here, literally, in this post, and here, figuratively, on Earth,
I reflect upon the time of my birth,
childhood,
teen-hood,
adulthood,
the time of my re-birth,
a new, different, more real childhood,
and all the times between all the “hoods”.
Then the time after.
In comparison, the time I’ve been blessed with after having been born-again
is like living with one foot – like the frozen, anticipated, next step – in the joy of the timeless place
with Jesus and Father God.

A part of me has become rather fond of time, though it is a capricious master.
Reliable and steady, yet inexorable, unrelenting, and unforgiving.
It flies.
It waits for no-one.

It certainly is not waiting for me.
But God is. 
Patiently, forgivingly,  (which are, indeed, “time words”),
and lovingly (which is a timely, and an eternal word.)

“Reliving”, or thinking about the past is interesting and useful.
Living “in the now” is also important,
but to live in the “eternal now”,
to live with the Highest Lord, is what I really want.

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Beauty Never Gets Old

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Beauty never gets old
In the eye of its beholder.

~ ~

For it is already old,
And the beholder’s eye sees more
Than it ever expected to allow inside:
The Light of The Eons.

~ ~ ~

__________

A mere wondrous thought of the Ancient of Days.
An idea from His creative mind.
An image of His character.

~ ~ ~ ~

Beauty — an attribute of His Word and Son.
At once ancient, timeless, and present.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At once, fresh, and young, and new, and most pleasing.
A joy to behold,
Beauty never gets old.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hold it!
Embrace it!
Behold . . . Him!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Beauty never gets old
In the eye of its beholder.
For it is already old,

And the beholder’s eye sees more
Than it ever expected to allow inside:
The Light of The Eons.
A mere wondrous thought of the Ancient of Days.

An idea from His creative mind.
An image of His character.
Beauty — an attribute of His Word and Son.

At once ancient, timeless, and present.
At once, fresh, and young, and new, and most pleasing.

A joy to behold,
Beauty never gets old.
Hold it!

Embrace it!
Behold . . . Him!

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The images above hardly begin to portray, nor depict, the beauty of His created works.
Hardly an iota.
Certainly not alpha to omega.
Because:

It is said that Lord Jesus, The Son of God,
The Word Who Is God and was God,
And was with God, at and before The Creation,
Made everything from nothing.
I propose that He made everything, not from nothing,
But from Himself,
Who is Everything at once!
That is why we have beauty.
It is part of His image,
His attributes,
His wonderfulness.
For He IS Beauty.
Lord Jesus is the one, , , true, , ,
Beautiful One!

Gloryteller
8-9-13

 

 

Oh, Heart! Seek Happiness? Accept Joy!

^^^

Oh, Heart,
is it happiness you seek?
Happiness highly desirable?
Yet dependent?
Elusive happiness?
Happy chasings of things outside yourself?
Oh, frivolous pursuit!
Oh, Fleeting Fates!
Oh, Fickle Muses!
Oh, changing time and seasons!
Oh, whims and peculiarities of others.
Oh, Heart!

The perhaps;
the unhaps.
Ah, to erase,
to replace the un.
Happy-chance relies on happenstance.
The right things need to HAPPEN,
Oh, Heart,
for happiness to come.
Aye, to come, yet it so quickly goes . . .
So often it flees and will not stay in permanence
because something else happened unforeseen,
or didn’t,
or someone loved,
and changed,
or did not,
or lied,
or stole,
or went away,
or stayed the same,
or quit,
or gave up,
or did not last,
or laughed,
or betrayed,
or let chances pass.
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But,
Oh, Heart!
Have you considered Joy?
Joy is different.
It’s beyond definition,
although the world tries to define it,
confine it,
call it an emotion.
The world calls it synonymous with happiness,
But it is far from the same.
Joy is elementally incomprehensible if you don’t have it.
Oh, Extreme,
Oh, Deep,
Oh, Profound,
Utterly overwhelming,
at times,
but not captive of time,
nor whims of others,
nor Fates and Muses,
nor the chase, nor bruises,
save the Great Chase of Christ,
of His children;
His Divine Romancing,
of His bride.
Oh, Heart,
when you slow,
and turn,
and let Him catch your tattered strings,
and you let Him in,
and you see, and touch, and savor
His Joy,
and suddenly it is yours,
Oh, Heart!
Oh, Abiding gift!

Is it, then, Joy you might seek?
Joy so independent of what has happened;
is happening;
will happen?
Joy in knowing,
in enjoying a walk with Jesus,
joining with Jesus,
rejoicing in Jesus?
Great delight?
Rich fullness?
Exceeding gladness, oh, Heart?
Inside your own walls!
Happiness multiplied X times!

To have happiness and Joy together,
oh, Heart, is a precious gift.
But,
take heart,
Joy persists even in sadness.
No one can steal your Joy
unless you let it be taken.
There is unhappiness,
But there is no unjoy,

Joy wells up from deep inside,
Overflows to the outside,
is a living, life-giving, sustaining thing;
is abundant, noticeable, contagious;
is independent of external forces.

As happiness is precarious,
Joy is precise.

As happiness happens to you,
Joy joins with you.
Joy jumps with you!

“Happiness” is referred to about 30 times in the Bible
while “Joy” is proclaimed about 300 times!

Happiness runs through your fingers the harder you try to hold it.
Joy wells up, overflows cupped hands,
and is unlimited at its source.

Oh, Heart!
Let the Lord  remake you to contain
even a small vial of the Joy in His glory.

Happiness comes from what happens, oh, my Heart,
Joy comes from Jesus!

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Listen, Oh, Heart!
Happiness flows in and flows away.
No one knows if it might stay.
But Joy!
Joy, Oh Heart, ever bubbles from its Source.
Welling up endlessly, any time of day.
Happiness depends.
But because He lives in you,
Oh, Heart,
Your Joy will never end.

^^^

© 4-29-13 Gloryteller – L.S.
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Compelling Christian Fiction Reads

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