Previews, Glimpses, Sips, And Samples

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At a food show, the chef fed us morsels from each course of his famous ten course gourmet dining experience.

The wine steward poured us sample sips of his oldest vintage.
But the actual meals and drinks were beyond our means,
Our ability to fully appreciate,
Beyond our wherewithal…

We were left with our dreams and ‘air-filled’ beans,
Not that beans aren’t good, mind you…

At the homemade ice cream store, the clerk gave us delicious samples of exotic frozen wonders, but there were too many and we had to decide upon one or two…

We watched the trailer – actually a teaser – of the new blockbuster movie.  We could have watched it right then, but it was a month from release in theaters…

We looked at paint swatches, but they were too small to get the full visual picture of how the whole room would look with those colors…

We saw photographs of architectures and landscape designs for our new home, but each was more beautiful than the last and we couldn’t wrap our head around them, couldn’t decide…

We saw photographs of paintings, which, of course, couldn’t do justice to the real works of art…

We heard samples of music which we knew were not a fair representation of the complete recorded songs, which, themselves, failed to convey the complete experience of watching and hearing the artists play and sing the music before us “live”…

Perfume samples faded too soon…

The smell of lilacs.
We just want them to keep blooming all year
So that we can have the real thing
And not just a pleasant memory…

We saw the digital computerized results of the collisions of subatomic particles moving at nearly the speed of  light.  The pictures are digital because the particles are traveling so fast, their trails are very short, and their “lives” are less than flashes.  The researchers are reasonably certain that they have found the elusive Higgs Boson — the “God particle” — that confers mass upon all matter.  Those particles border upon the unreal in our local timespace, but their effects and their existence is, in a sense, eternal…

So it is to live here in the world of the created universe.
We see but a glimpse of the immense and the miniscule.
Of the quick and even the slow.
Of the true hues and created colors.
But we’re glad to have eyes.

We hear but a whisper of the eternal symphony.
But we’re glad to have ears.

We get only a momentary, fleeting taste of a magnificent feast.
But we’re glad to have the sense of taste.

We are thankful to have senses, but
We’re left with a longing for more,
No, not just more, but a longing for The Real Thing.
The big, full, complete, Real Thing.
All of it!

The thing is:  that God gives us the capacity to experience Him through His created works surrounding us here in our temporary home, the incompletely restored universe.  We have sensory organs, limited as they are, and we have minds which seek to understand, all the while knowing that the completed “big picture” will not be ours.  The complete fullness of God’s Mind, His Power, Majesty, and Glory is beyond our ability to experience.  Not here, not now, not yet.

What is it like to chase an electron?

What is it like to see all the countless wavelengths and hear all the countless frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum?

What is it like to hear the choir of all the stars in all the galaxies singing at once to the Risen Creator-King while all the angels’ voices soar in counterpoint?

What is it like to taste a ten-million-course banquet assembled by a host of angel chefs while the Persons of the Trinity dine at the table with us?

What is it like to see Your face,
Oh, Lord?

We likely will not know these things while alive on this world, but we have faith that we will know when we all hear the worldwide trumpet note that accompanies His returning shout as He comes at last to finish the redemption of all creation and all His people.

Until then, we are blessed, privileged, and gifted
With all of His
Sips,
Hints,
Nudges,
Samples,
Glimpses,
Whispers,
Previews,
Foretastes.

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Now we see a blurred image in a mirror. Then we will see very clearly. Now my knowledge is incomplete. Then I will have complete knowledge as God has complete knowledge of me.  1 Corinthians 13:12 

Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. 1 John 3:2

But as it is written in the Scriptures, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined the things that God has prepared for those who love him and wait for Him.”  1 Corinthians 2:9 
[ There are things God hath prepared for those that love him, and wait for him, which sense cannot discover, no teaching can convey to our ears, nor can it yet enter our hearts. We must take them as they stand in the Scriptures, as God hath been pleased to reveal them to us. –Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary]

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Evil Tries, Good God Triumphs

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Nowhere, Nothing, No-One, Never —

Of Trial and Triumph

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There is nowhere
Evil can go
that Good can’t reach.

There is nothing
Evil can touch
that Good can’t redeem.

There is no-one
Evil can take
that Good can’t release.

There is not one life
Evil can chain
that Good has not the key.

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Oh, Heart! Seek Happiness? Accept Joy!

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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.

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© 4-29-13 Gloryteller – L.S.
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Defending His Words With My GPS

Photo of TomTom Go 500

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A GPS plays a special role while traveling strange roads.  It tells us where we are, where to turn to reach our destination, how far we have come, how far we have yet to go, what the speed limit is, and where the landmarks, restaurants, and gas stations are.  It keeps us from getting lost!  It also increases our overall understanding of areas unfamiliar to us.  A GPS can greatly enhance the enjoyment of a trip.

It occurred to me that I, as a writer (and we writers, collectively), have a special role, since our craft is expressed through use of our language.    It matters how we use our GPS……..  GPS?  I see the questions in your eyes.

Grammar, Punctuation, and Spelling! 

GPS!

It’s a matter of words – how we string them together in a proper, coherent manner into phrases and sentences.

G,P, and S are our tools –  the paint on our canvasses which color our written thoughts.

They are the instruments by which we give tone and texture, pitch and resonance to the songs of our printed voices.

They are the rich furnishings that embellish an empty house (blank page) and transform it into a home (poem, article, story).

Without the order furnished by the use of good grammar, punctuation, and spelling, (and, here, I must add vocabulary) there is confusion and chaos.  There is reader discomfort.  Instead of the stream flowing smoothly, their cognative canoes encounter obstacles which impede progress.  Instead of the intended float-trip through a beautiful landscape of understanding, there is a laborious detour through a swamp of lost meaning.

Today our language, (both the written and the spoken) is under attack by laziness, carelessness, apathy, ignorance, and lack of meaningful use by the general public. It seems few people actually care anymore about The Queen’s English  (meaning the standard, correct, conventional, most easily-understood-worldwide form of the language).  It is dying a slow death – even in the “media” – even in schools.  Our language is undergoing a deliberate “dumbing down”.  It seems to me that bad grammar, punctuation, spelling, and vocabulary are somehow becoming more socially acceptable to many people than good grammar, punctuation, spelling, and vocabulary.  To me, that is a very sad circumstance.  The consequences are tangible, for example, when thousands of job applications are rejected for not having been written properly.  It is essential to be able to express one’s thoughts and ideas clearly, concisely, and in an intelligent manner.

As writers, we find ourselves in a unique position.  We have a responsibility, and an obligation to make proper use of our language, not only for our readers’ benefit, and our own benefit, but for the benefit of the English language itself, and Society itself.

I must now state that I am not a journalist, nor an English major.  I’ve never had a creative writing course; the way I write is God-given.  All my knowledge of reading and writing came from grades one through twelve in public school, way back when “reading, writing, and ‘rithmetic” were considered very important, and were taught classically.  There was no “dumbing down” back then, only “smartening up”.  That being said, this post may still contain some GPS errors, but it’s not for lack of trying, and it’s not for lack of caring about English.  I’m no expert, but whatever my shortcomings, I’m still a writer.  Writing is my passion, my delight, and, most importantly, my calling.

As writers, we find ourselves the appointed guardians, supporters, and defenders of  The Language, and not only our language but God’s language;  His words.  HIS WORD.   Writers and readers alike should gain proficiency in GPS and vocabulary, especially if they happen to be reading or writing about The Bible, God’s people, or King Jesus — The Word of God, Himself.

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Metaphor Mountain

 

I “love” mountains, and I “love” The Mountains.

(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 believe in 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.

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Rejoice! Rejoice! With All Your Might, Rejoice!

Rejoice! Rejoice! With All Your Might, Rejoice!

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!

With love,
Your Gloryteller

 Resurrection Sunday,  3-31-2013

 

The Expense of Safety

A Good Friday Offering

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.

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Meet Xian

Meet Xian
AKA, Chi – My Kind Of Guy

He has shown up twice in my latest posts.
Who is he?
Reader, meet Xian.

This is his story:

When I first started reading Christian-oriented material, “Our Daily Bread”, for example, I used symbols to mark and highlight passages that were important and inspiring.  I used the five-pointed star: It is easy to draw without lifting the pen, but it has pagan connotations, so I went to the six-pointed star:

Two triangles, voila – a Star of David.  But that takes a little too much time to draw, so I went to the asterisk:Three quick, simple lines that intersect.  My ODB, and books, and Bible are full of them.  However, for some reason, (who can explain ME) I recently began to take the X out of the aster, and just use that.  I may well have been led to do it:So there it is. X .

You knew I would get around to this, didn’t you…..I began to think about how the X in Xmas stands for Christ.  I found that the X is actually Chi, the first letter in the Greek word, Χριστος.  I hope I got that right, because, hey, it’s Greek!  Anyway, that Greek word means Christos – the Anointed One – which is a translation of the Hebrew “Messiah”.    The X in Xmas is derived from the Chi (pronounced “Ki” which rhymes with “my”, or “guy”) in this word: Χριστος.  X came to denote “Christ” sometime in the sixteenth century.  Xmas is often misinterpreted as a modern secularization of “Christmas”, thinking that it is an attempt to remove religion from the holiday.  If it is, it has backfired!   “Xian” has been -used as an abbreviation for “Christian”, as well.  These are merely abbreviations, not to be used in formal writing, and words are symbols, so maybe it is much ado about nothing, but the things words stand for, especially when they stand for people, and God, and Godly concepts, are important.  But I diverge.

One morning, I looked at the X and saw a figure with hands raised.  I don’t know what made me put a head on it, but that’s what I did.  A trinity of lines.

It came to life!  Xian (Christian) was born!  (You can surely tell that art comes naturally for me).
Xian has since become just slightly more than a symbol to me, more than a stick man.  He is naturally worshipful.  You can see how he surrenders his all to the Almighty.  His hands are raised in surrender and praise.  He somehow expresses “giving glory to God in the highest”.  Sometimes I call him “Chi – my kind of guy”.   Three simple lines with a lot of heart.

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An Expanded Prayer To My Father In Heaven

 

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 The Living Bread, and The 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!
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.
In Jesus’ most holy name.
Amen, and Amen.

 

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No One Doesn’t

No One Doesn’t

One can push the fact away. Deny it.
Ignore it.
Refuse it.
Reject it.
Decline it.
Or flat turn it down.
The fact is this:
No one doesn’t want love.
Everyone wants love.
Whether they know it or not.
Even needs it, to my mind.
It feeds the soul.
It quenches her thirst.
Shelters her.
Clothes her in glorious splendor.
No one doesn’t long for love.
No one doesn’t!
Like breathing.
You can’t breathe properly, nothing seems right.
Some accept that, many deny it.
But it remains, beyond denial.
Beyond refusal.
Beyond all rejection of the idea.
As nectar remains deep inside the flower.
As life is encased inside the hard, dry seed.
The longing lives in us all.
A smoldering coal.
Unquenchable.
An unreachable itch.
Unscratchable.
We search a lifetime to reach, to quench.
I know that in myself.
Ahhh, to love and be loved…
Then sometimes we get close to the true thing.
Happiness, found and satisfied.
Love, at last!
It lasts a lifetime, sometimes.
But even then, a tickle, deep inside a hidden part.
Says, even that was just a shadow behind a veil.
A distant blurred image in smoky air.
The old longing still murmurs and rubs.
But WHYYY?  We rail. This has to be it, or all is lost.
Then we cry out against the One who put it there.
Wait……… The One………
Could there be a reason?
Something more?
A Truth I didn’t see before?
A seed of longing meant for me?
To search and find the one true thing?
God’s everlasting love for me!
The Love that always satisfies!
The Good News of the Prince of Peace!
The perfect Love that makes one free.
It’s the Love by which all other loves are seen.
It’s the Love inside which all other loves exist.
It’s the light by which our souls are lit.
No more itch, no more inner burning.
No more chafing, murmuring.
Except in the longing for more of Him.
Which, we need but ask, He gladly gives.
No one doesn’t long for that.
The proof  is in this overflow.
The love that’s pouring from this pen.
This here, this now, this absolute joy!
From Him, back to Him.
For me, for you.
Deny that, be ignorant of it, refuse it,
Push it away, reject it,
We still need it, want it, live for it.
It’s so deep and wide,
That because of it, out of it, and for it,
Jesus was born, and lived, and died, and arose.
No one doesn’t long for that kind of love.
Not in the soul, one doesn’t.
No one doesn’t long for Love.
No one doesn’t.
No one.

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Kathryn and Alan Scott – Engaging!

 

 

During the past three days, my fellow believers and I were greatly blessed to worship under the leadership of Alan and Kathryn Scott from Northern Ireland.
Their messages and their passionate praises of our Lord are outstanding!

Parents.
Published worship singers.
Pastors.
Church planters.
Anointed by Authority.
Royally called.
Radiantly inspired.
Engaging.
Inspiring.
We want more of Him, and they show us there is always more.
People were healed and set to healing.
The broken were lifted up and given hope.

I am happy and humbled to say, “I was one of those”, and I am also one of those who remember Alan’s words, “Life is hard–and God is good”.
Thank You Jesus, for redemption and healing, and thank You for sending the messengers, Kathryn and Alan.

He Follows Patiently. Your Turn.

 

 

 

In the book of your life,
Jesus follows you closely, quietly,
As you walk your path.
Turn the pages, He walks with you.
If you run, He runs.
Lie down, and He lies down nearby.
If you try to outrun Him,
Or get away,
He effortlessly stays right behind.
Veer right or left,
He is faithful in the turning.
Stop, and He stops.
Continue in your way,
He continues with you.
But turn around and look back,
He does not turn around.
Not ever.
He looks into your pleading eyes.
Always.
Turning to Him is all He wants.
Asking Him to take the lead
Is all you need.
To write your new page.
To fill the complete book of your Life.

Carrier!

Carrier!

 Do Not be alarmed by what I have to tell you.
How do I phrase this? ……………………… I’ve been infected.

Years ago, I was exposed. The infectious agent was introduced into my heart through an opening that had not been there before. It was my own doing that it was left open, though. I meant to do it because I had made a choice. I had chosen to invite Salvation in, and thus was exposed to The One Truth, and The Only Life. I was immediately overwhelmed and taken over! Infected! Much like a computer is “infected” by downloading a foreign program that takes over its operation. Much like a human virus that, once inside you, replicates inside one’s cells, not killing, (although I did die to my old self) but changing the DNA. Thus I succumbed.

As a side note, do you know that some scientists propose that nearly 10% of the human genome (the entire “code” of human genetic information) is composed of leftover viral DNA that humans have carried around in their own genes for many thousands of years?

In a like manner, I have been carrying “Heavenly information” left within me by the infecting power of Holy Spirit. I am a Carrier! I have been imparted, and implanted, with belief in the Good News of Jesus Christ! Being a Carrier of information this important, and because of the nature of this glorious infected state, I have a driving need, a compulsion, a commission, to pass it on to others. That’s not so difficult since it’s airborne and contagious.  Those who have developed resistance through long exposure to the enemy’s anti-Body, may take longer by varying degrees.  But, sharing a few words of my own testimony, of the wonder of my own infectedness, or of Jesus’ great love for the prospective infectee often has the desired effect. The agent I carry is so infective that the mere sight of me carrying this Life, this Joy, is sometimes enough to transfer it. Often, I share a gift of food, or supply needed materials that I’ve liberally infused with Holy infectedness, and they catch it.  Other times I have to leave seed and spore of the Good News where the Spirit bids, and He sees to it that it infects and grows in His good time.

I was infected by a Christ-follower. That’s the only way it can be spread, but it can spread fast when fellow carriers each do their part to make more carriers.

The thing is, once this infecting Agent is fully established in the heart, in the very DNA, it is there for good. I mean that in every sense of the word.  I have never heard a person say they wish it hadn’t happened.  Truth, Salvation, Life, and His unfathomable Love are infectious like that.

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I Would Rather Live My Life….

I Would Rather Live My Life….

 

I would rather live my life believing there is a God and die to find out there isn’t than live my life believing there isn’t a God and die to find out there is.” – Albert Camus

This statement sounds good at first glance doesn’t it? Perhaps a good starting point for a journey of faith? If one looks more closely, it is, however, lacking. It barely scratches the surface. What about knowing there is a God? What about knowing God personally? What about knowing we are loved and treasured? What about knowing exactly how He wants us to live our lives? What about knowing that Jesus is our personal Savior, Lord, and risen King? What about reading what He has to say about all this in His own Words? What about knowing exactly who we will face when we die, and also what happens after that?

I would rather live my life knowing my Creator God, my Lord and Savior, and what He says about Himself – and me – than to live my life wondering and speculating about Him.” LS<

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An Act of Worship In a Retail Store

Jesus lives!

He is worshipped and adored even inside the huge Macy’s 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.”

Her First Christmas Card

To my own
Morning Star.

Her First Christmas Card

Between. That’s where he was. Dave was between sleep and consciousness. Between clarity and the fog brought about by unbidden change. Between the deep mystery of Christmas Eve and the lambent hope he always found on Christmas Day.

He was warm and relaxed under Mary’s favorite comforter. Although teetering on the rim of the slope leading back down into the pool of sleep, he began to remember. Years of Christmas memories. Welcome, warm ones. She was in them all from the beginning. He remembered the card he had bought her before their first Christmas together. Undelivered that first Christmas, he had left it in his sock drawer under his mother’s Bible. It had remained undelivered, regretfully, because of circumstances better left buried. Complicated days, those had been. Yet, they had worked their way through them with love, and with indispensable Divine help.  He gave her the card the next year, when it could be wholeheartedly given.

Even now the demands of the season had come between them. Kept them apart yet again. Highlighted their differences. Hampered communication. Brought frustrations, then prevented resolution of those frustrations. When he tried to picture them together in unity, in oneness, the image of “One Being” kept sliding apart into two, like that of binoculars which refused to stay in focus. How he longed to have everything right and perfect between them.

So it was right, tonight, that he remember that card, for reading it together had become one of the centerpieces of their unity during many Christmases ……

Because You Mean So Much”,

it said, above pine branches and a sprig of holly complete with red berries. He smiled in the recalling.

Gilded around the edges. Swirling red flower stems and buds as a background for the message. He had memorized the front:

I believe that God brings certain people into our lives for a reason.

Some days it’s to help us see something new and wonderful.
Sometimes it’s to encourage us and strengthen our faith.

And sometimes it’s to remind us that we are never truly alone….”

He nodded in affirmation. Mentally, he opened the card. The same evergreen pine and holly
above a verse:

How natural it is that I should feel as I do about
you, for you have a very special place in my heart”, Philippians 1:7.”

The two tears which began forming in his ever-green eyes testified to the truth of that scriptural passage. How appropriate that the verse was centered on the left-hand page, for it had been the heart of his message to her. He had to pry his attention from it to the continuance of the main message found on the last page:

Whatever purpose God had in bringing us together,

I’m just grateful that He did.

You’ve been a real source of understanding in my life,

and it means more to me than I can ever say

to have the gift of your friendship and caring.”

“Merry
Christmas”

He grinned unreservedly.

He had held his heart too close – or maybe not close enough. Missed some chances back then. It took months to recover his balance, but thanks to prayer, God had sent blessings, grace, and miracles.
He was wide awake now. All was calm and all was bright. Too calm and too bright? Moonlight traced a bright rectangle on the carpet as he became aware that her warmth and her steady breathing were absent. She wasn’t next to him in their big bed. Throwing back the comforter, he moved his legs over the edge, put his bare feet on the floor, and stood up intent on finding and joining her. Almost through the bedroom door, he turned back. There it was, right where he kept it under the Bible, behind the socks. He grasped the red envelope which contained his first Christmas greeting to his Beloved.

As he passed the arched doorway to the kitchen, the new stove caught his eye with its bright, clean, modern lines. The old one had been serviceable, but was badly worn. It had had none of the new digital gadgets. It was ordinary. “Kind of like me?” He mused. He missed the old thing.. He was sentimental that way. He remembered all the times they had danced near that stove, especially while meals were being prepared upon it. It had been a place of comfort in the chill of winter. Amused, he remembered the big pots of chili being prepared for company – with large pans of cornbread in the oven. Ahhh, the smells! Ahhh, the dancing in the close embrace of his Beloved…..
Down the hall he turned the corner and there she was, silhouetted in front of the glass doors which opened onto the deck. Looking out upon the snow-covered cornfields, she was radiant even in her white flannel pajamas – the ones with the little candy canes among the faces of angelic-looking sleeping children. Moonlit brightly! The filmy, sheer blue gown she wore over her ‘jams’ added to her mystery. Heartwrenchingly lovely! His Morning Star! Gosh, she was something truly special!

“I knew you would come, I felt it,” she said quietly. Had she been crying? “Our moon is perfectly full tonight of all nights!”
“Mary.” He kept his voice soft and low. “Just for us, do you think? Wow, it
is big! I think that’s the brightest, most beautiful one I’ve ever seen, and so unusually far to the northeast!” Perhaps he was annoyingly analytical at times. He put his arms around her from behind.
“Yes, I’m sure this one is just for us”, she whispered………… “Dave? I was just thinking of my lovely, perfect, Christmas card that you like to read to me every year on Christmas Eve. Would you read it to me later, in bed? I really need that tonight.”
“My love, I have it right here.”
“Wow,” she exclaimed in wonder and delight as he gently turned her to face him. Then he kissed her. It lasted. They paused, and, inspired, he began whispering the words to ‘Silent Night’. She joined him then, and they were softly singing together, for only with him could she truly sing her heart’s song…..And he, his. Only with her.
They sang, began swaying, then began dancing. In close embrace. Rejoicing together by the light of the Christmas full moon.
Angels danced unseen, and sang as well. They could feel them. “Silent
night, holy, holy, holy, night. All is calm, all is bright.”

Right on cue, the grandfather clock began “chiming twelve” as if to say, “Re-joice, re-joice, for-Christ-the-Lord-is-born-this-day!”

He counted the syllables aloud just to make sure, for he was compulsive that way. She giggled happily. Ring-ringing! Exactly twelve chimes – twelve wondrous sounds with meaning reverberating through eternity.
They looked into each others’ eyes and said in unexpected unison, as was their habit and their gift, “Happy Birthday Jesus” ……………. Eyes wide – always amazed when this happened.

Then : “I Love You, always remember that!” In unexpected unison, they had done it again!
Green and brown sparkles swirled as their eyes twinkled……………..

Their images resolved into One.
Under the brilliant full moon,
All Heaven and Earth
celebrated, rejoicing with them.

The angels kept dancing,

And so did they.

***

Peace, Love, and Hope
Beyond your understanding,
Be yours tonight.
Merry Christmas, 12-24-2012

© Copyright by Lenn Snider 12-24-2012

Paul Harvey – The Man and the Birds

 

A Modern Day Parable

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Breath Of Heaven – Mary’s Song

 

Not even one of us can fully understand nor appreciate Mary’s plight…….

Rest in Peace, Donna Summer.  We still have your amazing voice.

These are video clips from The Nativity Story,  upload thanks to Peperamico.


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Mary Did You Know? (A Mother Just Knows)


Mary, Did You Know?


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Shards

A   FORE-WORD

      I feel very strange.  The day before yesterday I was strongly led to write this unusual piece – “Shards”.  (unusual, for me, in its pain and darkness – I’m more into joy)
Around noon yesterday (Friday, 12-14-2012) I saw the horrible, heartbreaking tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut on the news.

I had not planned to give God much of a part in this poem.  I intended it for encouragement for one individual, that “they” might be encouraged by it and know that they are not alone in their plight of brokenness. However, yesterday morning, as I awoke, I was strongly led to change it, and include His compassionate nature in the final stanzas.
      I hesitated to post this in fear of being inappropriate, but I feel strongly that He wants someone to read this.  I emphasize that this was written before the tragedy.  It is my hope and prayer that it will draw someone to Him and  lead them into his arms.
Today I will post “Shards”.  I have no answers to the usual questions which tend to make people turn away from God in times like these.  “Where’s God?” “Why does God allow innocent blood to be spilled; innocent lives to be taken?”  “Why does He so often allow evil to prevail?”  “Is it because of the rebellious and disobedient nature of mankind?”  “Is it because when we, as a people, decided to ‘go it alone’ without Him, He decided to show us how that would work out for us?” I don’t know.
      This is all I know at this moment:   I refuse to let these questions shatter the faith that I, with His grace, have gone through so much to maintain.  I refuse to be captive to my own meager understanding.  Jesus didn’t come to earth to eliminate murder. He came to comfort the brokenhearted, for one thing.  We still live under the curse of evil and we all face death – old and young alike – but Jesus came here to address death and defeat it for each of us through His resurrection.
I refuse to let evil steal my joy and my hope, for this is what it boils down to, for me — that our only hope to be reunited with those innocent souls is through Jesus Christ.  I am absolutely certain that Jesus’ compassion for innocent souls, those taken too soon, is immense, for, in a sense, He was one of them It is through faith, trust, and belief in Him alone that we will  be allowed to rejoin those beautiful innocents again in full joy, to sing, and dance, and laugh, and love with them forever.

Shards

The countless shards of one shattered heart,
An exploding, expanding sphere of chaos,
Spreading wide and scattering apart,
Across the world, a swarm of loss.
Shards acutely sharp,
Across the heavens, destruction hurled,
Shards immutably hard,
Dark devastation unfurled.

Small flechettes ripping flesh and bone,
Piercing even the fragile membrane
Between the body and the soul,
Replacing joy’s song with despair’s refrains
Shredding the universe into coarse turmoil,

~~~

Unsharded

Where, in the lovingkindness of His heart of compassion,
God gathers them all in His arms, and His hands,
And skillfully, then, He begins to re-fashion
Refitting them back as only He can.

Remaking, shaping, forming, unshattering,
Deftly rounds off the pain and re-tunes –  it’s an art,
He fits them all back, in a shape that’s most flattering.
Then removing the thing that tore them apart,

He creates a new unshatterable heart.
He creates a brand-new unshardable heart.

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The Basic Christian Library

"Mere Christianity" by C.S. Lewis. This is fundamentally what Christianity is all about.

"The Case for Christ" by Lee Strobel. Another converted atheist presents His compelling case for believing in Jesus.

"Left To Tell" by Imaculee Ilibagiza. This profound work is her own extraordinary story of endurance, discovery of the Holy Spirit, grace, healing, and an astonishingly compelling account of the necessity for forgiveness.

Compelling Christian Fiction Reads

"The Circle" 4-book series by Ted Dekker.
A man is the bridge between two very different worlds. Sound familiar? Can he save both? This T.D. work is brilliant in my book.

"This Present Darkness" and "Piercing the Darkness" by Frank E. Peretti. Tales of spiritual warfare from a unique perspective. Stirred a small controversy, but sold millions. What are we Christians afraid of? Hey, it's fiction!

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