A friend of mine posted this observation: “Christmas is over and it’s time to move on from celebrating the birth of Jesus to following the life of Jesus.”
I get his point. (I don’t think He intends to minimize Christmas) For one thing, it is all too easy to become fixated on this one aspect of Jesus’ incarnation, thus missing the importance of His whole life, and the purpose of His presence here. I think my friend wants to emphasize the importance of following Him in trust, and in obedience, above all else. To do that, it’s crucial that we “move on” and take Him from His manger bed, (even though there is nothing like having a new baby to hold) to love Him and watch Him as He learns to talk, and then to walk, as He grows in wisdom and knowledge, as He learns to use His hands to build and to heal, as He becomes an adult who teaches, preaches, and ministers to His people, as He carries His cross to a culmination of crushing sacrifice, as He conquers death and is resurrected. And not only lovingly watch, but lovingly participate in these things with Him as He enters, invited, into our hearts. Understanding Him, and following His life and His Word are the priority for a believer.
I must be true to myself, on the other hand, and say that I disagree that “Christmas is over”. The seasonal celebration may be over. The secular holiday may be over, but my heart’s celebration of my Savior’s birth will never be over. The upwelling, unrivaled, unquenchable joy that my Lord’s arrival brings will never end. I will not be moved. His birth is the culmination of all the pre-Nativity preparation, planning, decision-making, and the very character, the nature, and the acts Of Father God, and of His Son, who is the Word, the Creator, the Sustainer. Jesus’ birth is the beginning, on earth, of something so miraculous, so mysterious, so remarkable, so astounding, so important, so world-changing, so life-changing, that I cannot, and I will not be moved from it. Its implications bring me to worship in a special way. The story of His birth pulls me into a deeper relationship with Him. The story of His life brings me to better relationships with people. The story of His sacrifice on the cross, and His resurrection, and the gift of His indwelling Holy Spirit allow me a deepening relationship with our Father God. It’s my hope, and my desire, to celebrate His birth, His whole life, everything He was, and is, and will be, every day. That’s a tall order, I know, but I have a beginning point that The Father provided in this one amazing birth; “the birth that shook the earth” – “the birth that shaped the earth”- “the birth that saved the earth”. Without this one birth – Jesus’ birth – there would be no controversial Nativity Scenes, no Santa Clause to argue about, no Christmas trees, no carols, no Christmas parties, no brightly wrapped gift packages, no rampant commercialism, no Christmas vacations, no decorating, no pretty lights, NO LIGHT IN THE WORLD AT ALL, no Savior, no hope, no real love, no GOD WITH US. Imagine a world, a life, without the birth of Jesus in it . . . That would be a nightmare. That is why I won’t be moved, nor lightly “move on” from it. The beginning of His Story is the beginning of so much! That is why I hold close the holy celebration of Jesus birth. That is why I celebrate His whole holy life from birth to ascension. Even what He was before that. Holy! Even what He is and will be beyond that! Glorious! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Have a Happy Joyous Christbirth Celebration All Through The Year!
Blessings, dear reader, from me, your gloryteller.
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! * ** *** * * * * *
“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.
*
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!
“The Godsend” is already two years old!
It was written to bring forth the message of Christmas in a new way.
It also brings messages about adoption, belief in God, and belief
in Santa Claus, all interwoven in an inspiring, Christ-centered story.
Please understand that I don’t deem myself an exceptional writer,
and I don’t think “The Godsend” is going to be award-winning literature,
but I do know that it is God-commissioned, God-ordained, and God-given.
The mission of this book, like most of what I write, is to tell the story of Christ,
present His grace, mercy, and love within a new kind of story, to reveal His glory,
to help people come to know Him, and/or to lead the reader into a new, deeper relationship
with our Highest Lord and King.
Needless to say, it’s all for His great glory, not my own.
I’m only the messenger . . .
The first version was posted here, on Gloryteller.com, in December, 2011:
Its late posting date, relative to Christmas, 2011, was unfortunate
because not many people had time to read it during that busy time.
I hadn’t intended to pursue the little story any further, . . . then God intervened . . .
Only a month after it appeared here, my friend,
William, told me of the “The Godsend’s” impact on him. “The whole time I was reading”, he said, “I was seeing something special in my spirit. It was the image of a mother reading your story aloud to her child. It was having an effect on them both. I had the impression that they had a lot in common with the Christopher family,
and that their family was led closer to God, and His peace, all because of your story. You must publish this,” he insisted.
And insisted. And persisted. And insisted.
I felt the tug of the H.S. on my heart, and I thought, “Yes!
If for no other reason than for that one mother and one child, I will expand and publish it!”
So I set out on the LONG, difficult, journey into digital publishing.
I studied, I rewrote, and, as God gave me more and more each day, I edited, I re-rewrote, and re-re-edited again,
and I formatted, and re-formatted. Over and over. Like all writers must.
Then I had to learn how to make a virtual cover – oh man!
Hours, days, and months of painstaking labor (a labor of love).
In the process of making the cover, God led me to, and I became acquainted with, an artist, a woodcarver, and a Santa. Each of those Christians had an impact on my walk of faith. A wonder occurred: The Santa, (Santa Cliff ) “God-incidently” shares my last name, but is not directly related to me!
On November 26, 2012, I announced the premiere of the E-book “The Godsend”.
I was a little discouraged, though, about the low sales volume that season, even though I offered the book for free on an introductory basis.
I corresponded with one of my writer friends, Lizzie, who had written on her website about how The Great “I AM” worked in her circumstances. God used her writing for my encouragement, and healing:
” Dear Lizzie,
After hour upon hour of revision, proofreading, and formatting, I published “The Godsend” on Amazon and Smashwords. Out of the 400+ people in my church and in Facebook friends, I sold six units. Discouraging, right? I keep forgetting that I told Him that if I can help one person to know Him, the hours of work would be worth it. I keep forgetting that I AM is faithful even when I am not. I keep forgetting that, in His hands “The Godsend” cannot fail its purpose. I keep forgetting that He never gave up in the face of crushing discouragement and suffering. Thanks Lizzie, for reminding me in your lovely post that I’m not alone as a writer nor as a believer. You and I are so much alike in spirit. Finally, I’d like to report that I, too, am constantly experiencing His restoration, love, healing, peace, and forgiveness. Let us continually be aware of the miracle of the Great I AM, not only standing beside us, but occupying us with His presence!” Thanks Lizzie!
Finally, I’d like to promote the reading of this book by pledging my donation of ALL its proceeds (not just profit) to three worthwhile ministries: “The Call” , who facilitates the much-needed adoption and foster care of Arkansas children: http://thecallinarkansas.org/about-us/
“Seed money” is already on its way to these organizations. I intend to make nothing for myself from sales of this book.
So, there you go – a chance to entertain yourself and help others. That families and children who need peace might be led closer to the Lord and find His peace; that children be adopted, cared for and loved; and, that children in stressful and distressful circumstances be gathered under wings of protection and love. Give it to someone for Christmas – It’s a win, win, win, win, win, all because God told me about the plight of Davey Christopher and Nick Smith, to reveal more of His great glory.
The Godsend is also available on Smashwords, for PC (in PFD format), Sony Reader, Nook, Apple I-Pad, Kobo, and most e-reading apps ( including Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions, others) here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/256725
Many thanks, dear reader for your help by reading, helping to promote, or reviewing “The Godsend”. Blessings be yours!
Sincerely,
Gloryteller
χ My Christbirth **tree isever-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 theStar 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
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!
* * *
I like to kick off the Christmas season with this astonishing
act of worship and public proclamation of the glory of Jesus.
* * *
Jesus is born!
Jesus lives!
* * *
He is worshiped and adored even inside the huge Macy’s store in Philadelphia. This highly organized flash mob sings along with the world’s largest working pipe organ.
The “sounding joy” — the full, immense amount of joy served-up is overwhelming!
In the fullness of time, every knee will bow to Him, and
“He shall reign for ever and ever.”
“The Godsend” is already two years old!
It was written to bring forth the message of Christmas in a new way.
It also brings messages about adoption, belief in God, and belief
in Santa Claus, all interwoven in an inspiring, Christ-centered story.
Please understand that I don’t deem myself an exceptional writer,
and I don’t think “The Godsend” is going to be award-winning literature,
but I do know that it is God-commissioned, God-ordained, and God-given.
The mission of this book, like most of what I write, is to tell the story of Christ,
present His grace, mercy, and love within a new kind of story, to reveal His glory,
to help people come to know Him, and/or to lead the reader into a new, deeper relationship
with our Highest Lord and King.
Needless to say, it’s all for His great glory, not my own.
I’m only the messenger . . .
The first version was posted here, on Gloryteller.com, in December, 2011:
Its late posting date, relative to Christmas, 2011, was unfortunate
because not many people had time to read it during that busy time.
I hadn’t intended to pursue the little story any further, . . . then God intervened . . .
Only a month after it appeared here, my friend,
William, told me of the “The Godsend’s” impact on him. “The whole time I was reading”, he said, “I was seeing something special in my spirit. It was the image of a mother reading your story aloud to her child. It was having an effect on them both. I had the impression that they had a lot in common with the Christopher family,
and that their family was led closer to God, and His peace, all because of your story. You must publish this,” he insisted.
And insisted. And persisted. And insisted.
I felt the tug of the H.S. on my heart, and I thought, “Yes!
If for no other reason than for that one mother and one child, I will expand and publish it!”
So I set out on the LONG, difficult, journey into digital publishing.
I studied, I rewrote, and, as God gave me more and more each day, I edited, I re-rewrote, and re-re-edited again,
and I formatted, and re-formatted. Over and over. Like all writers must.
Then I had to learn how to make a virtual cover – oh man!
Hours, days, and months of painstaking labor (a labor of love).
In the process of making the cover, God led me to, and I became acquainted with, an artist, a woodcarver, and a Santa. Each of those Christians had an impact on my walk of faith. A wonder occurred: The Santa, (Santa Cliff ) “God-incidently” shares my last name, but is not directly related to me!
On November 26, 2012, I announced the premiere of the E-book “The Godsend”.
I was a little discouraged, though, about the low sales volume that season, even though I offered the book for free on an introductory basis.
I corresponded with one of my writer friends, Lizzie, who had written on her website about how The Great “I AM” worked in her circumstances. God used her writing for my encouragement, and healing:
” Dear Lizzie,
After hour upon hour of revision, proofreading, and formatting, I published “The Godsend” on Amazon and Smashwords. Out of the 400+ people in my church and in Facebook friends, I sold six units. Discouraging, right? I keep forgetting that I told Him that if I can help one person to know Him, the hours of work would be worth it. I keep forgetting that I AM is faithful even when I am not. I keep forgetting that, in His hands “The Godsend” cannot fail its purpose. I keep forgetting that He never gave up in the face of crushing discouragement and suffering. Thanks Lizzie, for reminding me in your lovely post that I’m not alone as a writer nor as a believer. You and I are so much alike in spirit. Finally, I’d like to report that I, too, am constantly experiencing His restoration, love, healing, peace, and forgiveness. Let us continually be aware of the miracle of the Great I AM, not only standing beside us, but occupying us with His presence!” Thanks Lizzie!
Finally, I’d like to promote the reading of this book by pledging my donation of ALL its proceeds (not just profit) to three worthwhile ministries: “The Call” , who facilitates the much-needed adoption and foster care of Arkansas children: http://thecallinarkansas.org/about-us/
“Seed money” is already on its way to these organizations. I intend to make nothing for myself from sales of this book.
So, there you go – a chance to entertain yourself and help others. That families and children who need peace might be led closer to the Lord and find His peace; that children be adopted, cared for and loved; and, that children in stressful and distressful circumstances be gathered under wings of protection and love. Give it to someone for Christmas – It’s a win, win, win, win, win, all because God told me about the plight of Davey Christopher and Nick Smith, to reveal more of His great glory.
The Godsend is also available on Smashwords, for PC (in PFD format), Sony Reader, Nook, Apple I-Pad, Kobo, and most e-reading apps ( including Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions, others) here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/256725
Many thanks, dear reader for your help by reading, helping to promote, or reviewing “The Godsend”. Blessings be yours!
Sincerely,
Gloryteller
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.~
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!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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!
He told my heart that someone is having trouble with absolutes, that someone needs to hear this.
I dedicate this exclusively to you, dear reader.
~~~
Please pardon my use of absolutes, But the world will always abuse Its own. And God won’t ever fail to soothe His own. He makes all things work together For our good. Everything good comes from Him Alone!
~~~
This is the only context where absolutes are valid,
For everything is beneath His feet.
The Highest Lord is the one Trust,
The one Truth,
The absolute I AM,
And He is all yours if you only ask to be all His.
I don’t remember what mood or incident triggered this rather “different” drafting; rather more outspoken, and opinionated, and, maybe, judgemental than my usual. It is almost a rant – a departure from my normal voice, but I feel that it was put in me for a reason; that it is a rant against the enemy, and that a special someone will benefit by hearing it, and I pray the Holy Spirit sends it where it should go:
^~ ~ ~ ~^
You’re Living On The Surface
I see you up there where my own self once languished, Pleasure seeker. (Never think that I deem myself better than you, For I have been you And am you) But at the same time, This is how the Endteller said it would be; That most would not see past their hands Feel past their skins Think past their morning coffee Their all-day coffee-chased pills Their evening intox Giving themselves away in so many imaginative ways Their narco-laced, caffeine-based, Red-saffron blood-fed Self-stimulated gorge And surge
And purge And urge Huge, insatiable appetites whet Tiny, urgent, skimming lives.
Food, drink, pleasure, weep; Slather, blather, rinse, repeat. Rat-race to anxiety, Retreat into a fetal sleep.
Where Me, Myself, and I is a meaningful relationship.
Loving only love is false. Where the tee-vee is the mirror And the mirror is queen, Where desperation-devastation has the taste of sinn-amon Sin-ammonia Sin-pneumonia Stinking poison Sin euphoria Where life’s meaning wades in a shallow, muddy puddle And no new taste (sing this part to your favorite tune) No new place No new clothing No new feeling No new art No new wine No new toy No new noise No new bauble No new ring No new car No new poem No new scenery No new skin No new lie No new anything can satisfy for long. No new association is a satiation anymore And even the plaintive inside voice That says “there must be something more” Is fading. This is how the Endteller said it would be Oh, Beautiful, Oh, sad, lost, desperate pleasure seeker. Oh youthful, doomed, nightmare dreamer. And there’s no way out but more of the same More of the same More of the shame More of the same…
The elusive answer is hiding in plain sight: Awaken from surface sleep, For morning awaits with gifts in her hands. Transforming and new For there is much more than you have seen or imagined. Dive deep beneath the flotsam of an empty existence, Dive deep to where Love Himself waits well beyond the shallows Though you may not love Love yet, There, in the depths where you are loved so intensely, Is a start Is your ransom Is your beginning Is your only hope Dive deep, drown in Love Oh, Beautiful, becoming, emerging seeker. Astound the Endteller. Dare the depths and be saved from the nowhere-place The nothing-time Of a surface-self existence.
I used to think somewhat as you do, so I know something of “where you are”.
“Late in life”, I discovered something that “works” infinitely better. It is said that those who dance are considered insane by someone who doesn’t hear the music.
Like many older men and women who were, unlike me, actually brilliant and talented,
I began to hear The Music. It became clearer, and then it began to move my limbs.
It’s like not being able to hear a dog-whistle, but you can tell that a dog does, because you can see its reaction when it is used.
God’s music is like that, and what complete and utter JOY there is in dancing to it!
My hope is that you will hear it, whether it begins faintly or thunders suddenly.
Whether in a voice, a birdsong, an orchestra, windchimes, or simply an inner tune that won’t be denied.
Once you hear the pureness, the truth, in its melody, you will know what I mean, and your heart will begin its joyful dance.
(I’m using quotation marks because I’m trying to teach myself to use the words “love” and “hate” appropriately, that is to save them for situations in which their true meaning applies)
What I really mean to say is that I like mountains intensely. In my book, one can only love living entities that one can have some sort of relationship with, like God (especially Him), a person, or perhaps a pet. Of course the words love and hate can be used metaphorically and that’s the way they are most often used. You hear it umpteen-zillion times a day. (Wink) I, myself, hate that. Oops, I dislike that. It is so common we don’t even notice the frequency of “I love it when”…., or, “I hate it when”. It’s annoying when I hear “I just love your hair, and that purse, I just love that, that’s to die for!”. We all do it, but how did we get so far from the true usage? Love God with everything you’ve got. Love your neighbor as yourself. That’s a tall enough order for the word “love”. Hate the sin, love the sinner! Another mighty tall order, yet, in those two sentences are found the true meaning and usefulness of the words love and hate.
I’ve gotten slightly off the trail. Let’s get back on it: If there were inanimate objects I could love, however, they would be “the mountains”. I have had, and am having, some wonderful real and metaphorical relationships with them, a few notable individual mountains in particular. If I had a “bucket list”, being in the mountains would be on it right after being with my people.
Mountains have real and metaphoric value in my life because they emphasize several opposing concepts:
Ascending and descending.
Higher and lower.
Danger and safety.
Climbing and falling.
Struggle and peace.
Beauty and desolation.
Heaven and Earth.
Spirit and flesh.
Good and evil.
And the awareness of the proximity of life and death.
I could expand this list almost endlessly, but you get the point.
Recently, the subject of death has been on my mind. My post, https://gloryteller.com/2013/03/25/one-last-mountain/, uses ascending a mountain as a metaphor for death. Perhaps it will become more than a metaphor. Perhaps I will “meet Death” on the slopes of a real mountain. Most likely it will be a metaphoric mountain that will claim my bodily life.
When I was transformed into a believer, my many and various fears were either taken away completely or were significantly diminished. My almost obsessive fear of death was one that was removed. All that is left is the natural, instinctive, compulsion to preserve my bodily life. Death, to me, is the necessary step I must take to reach Paradise, Heaven, and eternal life in the presence of my Lord and my Heavenly Father. Yet, it dawned on me that perhaps I’m taking death too lightly. Is it really a natural part of life? Is there nothing that can be done about it? If it is normal and natural, should anything be “done” about it?
I subscribe to the school of thought that death is a corruption thrust into a creation that was perfect before selfishness turned into sinfulness and spoiled the whole plan. I also believe that there is something that should be, and can be, done about death, and that is to believe, and believein the Savior, who was sent to vanquish it. Death is the consequence of our sinful nature, but He accepted true death in our places, so that we would not have to face the permanent consequences of our selfishness. Jesus defeated selfishness with selflessness! Everything that should and could be done about the problem of death has already been done! Problem solved! Done! Over! Finished! But only for believers in the One who did it perfectly and died for it perfectly! (I’ll leave it to you to discern and comprehend the larger, more complex, concept of death beyond the relatively simple death of a body.)
So, that being said, perhaps I still don’t really know enough about death, nor the process through which it will take me. Perhaps when the moment comes, I’ll be unprepared and I might succumb to fear, or find out that everything I thought I knew was wrong. It only happens once, and, although there are those who claim to have returned to their bodies, or returned from Heaven or Hell after they died, I suspect that death is an individually unique occurrence to which the testimonies of others have little value. There is only one person I personally know who has returned from death – my Lord and Savior, Jesus. I only trust what He said about it. That is recorded in the New Testament.
To climb a mountain, it is vital to be prepared. It’s interesting that the word “vital” comes from Latin roots meaning “relating to life, or the quality of being alive”. In my case, it means being able to preserve my life and my ability to stay alive throughout the whole journey; until the adventure is completed. I must pack the essential food, water clothing, and first aid supplies. I must have a map of the area and the route to the top either in my “head” or in my pack. I must be in good physical condition. I must have a positive mental attitude. I must have skills and knowledge, and be able to use them wisely. I must read extensively about the subject. I also must know how to pray and talk to the only One who will be my companion all the way. There will be only one chance to “get it right”.
Preparing to summit a mountain is like anticipating both bodily and metaphysical death – knowledge about what will kill you, makes you stronger. The stronger you are, the more likely a good outcome. The Bible says every person will die, then live again in an eternal body. The only question is “ which of two eternal ‘places’ will a person exist in after that”. I choose life – abundant life – with God.
Yes, that metaphoric mountain rises before me, and yes, evil will stalk me all the way up, but, before me, Jesus walked, and fell, and died, and lived again on that final mountain so that I would need to fear no evil; so that I would not have to fall, and break, and die before reaching the summit. His Spirit will accompany me and I will rely on His strength as I get weaker on my journey to the top, where He, Himself, awaits my arrival. From this land’s end until The Endless Land, I will trust God and believe in The Son of Man, and that not a moment too soon, for now, day breaks the gloom of night, and I can begin to see my humbling, huge, sobering, mysterious, towering, massif on the horizon.
Re-posted for R. L., a dedicated reader who liked the way this format “walks” across the page.
It’s actually a quirky glitch in the WordPress transposition of the way I really wanted it displayed. 🙂
I only recent conquered one
Not so distant past
But each peak now seems harder than
Was climbing up the last
Perhaps I’m almost finished
My climber says I’m not
My will is not diminished
My body not quite shot
But one can hardly ever tell
When one’s nice trail will end
What waits beyond horizon’s hill
Or ’round next river bend
And there will be that one higher
More fright’ning to attempt
Looming there one last hard climb
Where no one is exempt
Daunting doubts I reckon
Uncertain and unknown
Cold airless shadows beckon
To scale it all alone
You fool you will not be alone
The trail well-marked and lit
The crags will have beginner’s holds
You surely will not slip
Up toward my final peak
The one on which I’ll stay
I’ll wait until He finally speaks
Then lifts my soul away
Thus will it be that in the end
I’ll rest there where He Is
In the beauty of the Endless Land
With Him and all of His
Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think, in some way, about Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection.
Today is no different.
But wait, it is different, for today is the church’s official celebration of that creation-changing, world-changing, life-changing Day.
Today, let there be loud singing and joyous dancing.
Let there be massive celebration over all the Earth, for our Jesus is alive!
Let there be all of that but, most importantly,
let Him be the Lord of your life.
Rejoice, My Soul – All People, Rejoice!
I celebrate this holiest
Of all the days of holiness,
For as the sun appears to rise in the East,
The Son of God did arise
On Easter – Resurrection Day,
The greatest Day the Lord Has Made.
I rejoice and I am exceedingly glad in it,
For my Savior lives!
Oh, Lord, He lives!
Now and forever, He lives!
And because He lives,
So can I!
For my heart, too, was sealed
With hardened stone,
And in that darkened tomb
Dwelt death.
With tender touch He moved
The hardened part away
To let in light and life
So death was put to death.
The Holy Spirit Jesus sent
Was sent to live in me.
As Christ began to breathe again
I felt my spirit leap.
It leapeth still in Heaven’s realm,
So graciously removed from hell
That I can only raise my hands and say,
“Rejoice, all people, rejoice!
Hallelujah, praise God, rejoice!”
For our Savior lives and breathes in us!
He arose!
He conquered bitter death and saved!
He does that still, today!
The sole ferry to safety was ready to depart. Special admission only. One solitary ticket stand. Last chance. I had not the standing, Nor the price of admission. I stood forlorn in fear, I would certainly be tortured and killed. Then a Man stepped up. Radiating such undisguised love, Unveiled compassion. He gave me His own precious ticket with a smile. No hesitation. He paid my price. Dooming Himself. Bewildered, I caught hold of it. I stood astonished, Forgetting even to thank Him in my haste, As they cruelly beat Him down, Dragged Him away, To what fate I couldn’t know, Didn’t want to guess. My fate . . . In horror, I watched As I walked backward And, not nearly grateful enough, Stepped onto the boat.
She kneels alone in her garden as if in prayer Carefully pulling each weed before it can thrive Before it can multiply and hinder her berry crop
She looks up at the cloudy March sky in hope
Perhaps this month This year Perhaps this very day
She bows her head and notices One of the weeds offers a flower Shivering quickly side to side in the cold breeze Like an offering in pink and white Like a sign of something obscure
She kneels in her garden And for the first time this season She smiles
__________
Hold it!
Alone in the Rockies.
Gloryteller 