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.

* * * *
^ ^ ^ ^ ^

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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Momentously Graced

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Grace comes moment by moment,
Abiding until the next.
Life, a momentary comment,
By grace is momentously blessed.

L< Gloryteller
7-28-13

Therefore, I Must Write

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Write, write, write!
Must write, must write. 
Must write uniquely,
as uniquely commissioned,
or die an invisibly unique
and uniquely individual,
empty. . . living. . .  death.

I write, therefore, I yam.

I write, therefore, I yam, therefore, I . . .

 

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Seeing A Scene Between The Lines — Another God Nod !

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It happened completely unexpectedly on my birthday,  while reading a major novel.
I have never experienced this particular peculiar “special effect” while reading,
so I’ve been trying to assemble the right descriptive words with which to relate it:

I was reading, and I’m still reading, a “real”, hardcover, paper-and-ink version of the classic “Atlas Shrugged”.
As I was reading along, eyes moving along at a fast clip, my attention was drawn to the space above the line which I was reading.
I noticed something materializing there.
Without slowing down or stopping, I noticed a three-dimensional scene beginning to appear above the line.
It was as though I was driving at highway speed, watching the scenic countryside “moving past” as I watched out of my side window.
It was only a second before I reached the end of the line and thought, “What in the world was that?  What’s going on now?”
(It seems I hardly ever have to wait long for
something anomalous
something amazing
something astounding
something bizarre
something “coincidental”
something “crazy”
something epiphanic
something exceptional
something extraordinary
something mysterious
something remarkable
something super-natural
something surprising
something  unconventional
something unique
something unusual
and/or
something whimsical
to occur).

So, I immediately returned to the beginning of the line and read it again, scientifically, looking for a cause for this effect, a connection, or an explanation.
There was nothing special about that particular line nor the sentence which it was a part of.
The “effect” was still there, fence posts in the foreground zipping by, green hills farther out “moving” more slowly, and the mountains and clouds on the horizon not appearing to move at all.  As I kept reading, the background scene expanded to fill all the spaces between several lines as though I were actually there at that particular time and place.  Then the scene began to fade quickly and was gone in a few short, but pregnant, seconds.
I thought:
“What a thrilling thing!”
I wondered:
“What are You trying to tell me?”

“He’s gone hallucinatory”,  you’re thinking.
Over the edge,
Delusional,
Imagining things,
Lost his mar……
You get the picture — I know what you’re thinking.
Yes you are!  I know it!
Well, maybe you have a point, but I don’t think so, and even if you do, God can still work with it.

You see,
It’s another instance of grace —  a most-undeserved nod from God timed perfectly,
tailored uniquely for me, a personal revelation prepared for my use in my personal testimony and my personal ministry.
It’s typical that I should get a God Nod — my term for a message from God —  while reading a book authored by a pro-abortion atheist (Ayn Rand, a very, very talented, enjoyable, and skillful writer/novelist), but what do I do with this?  How  can I use it?  What do I write?
Reveal yourself, John Galt!
Hmmm, The John Galt Line…..
It came to me…
The scenery between the lines reminds me of pieces I have written about reading the Bible as a living text.  It’s about what’s in the lines, and what’s between the lines, but it’s more than that.  It has a depth of scenery that appears to be whizzing past the moving reader, yet it is still and stationary.  The trick is, I gather, to stop, turn ninety degrees, and look past the lines, deeper into the page.  I did, and as I did, the faraway, unmoving Mountain began to draw toward me (and also get larger)  as I approached It, just as it would happen if a driver turned directly toward his/her desired objective.

“Line upon line, precept upon precept” is, to my mind, a good thing — a good way to build.  The lines are stacked in two dimensions, the precepts in three, or more!  The Word of God has layers and unfathomable depths to be explored.
Turn into it when it seems everything is whizzing past.
When you seek to move closer to Him, He will move closer to you, dear reader.
My trust in our Lord has led me into the most amazing life I could have imagined.
I wish you even more than you can imagine, and pray that you, too, will get unexpected Nods from God
as you read, write, and travel through the scenery of your life.
Bless you!
L<  Gloryteller
P.S. – I would be very interested to hear of your God Nods!
Has anything remotely similar ever happened to you?
Join the discussion, or start one.  You are appreciated!

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.

~ ~ ~
^^^^^

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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He Returns On Fire In The Third Person

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Gloryteller has returned in the third person, on fire to write.   (Who even missed him or noticed a lack of recent posts?)
He was “on retreat” in The Mountains once more.
He is, once more, humbled.
He is humbled beyond his usual daily state of  humbled-ness.
Unexpectedly.
Surprisedly.
Hiking and climbing  joyously with his youngest son, “College Guy”,
who is such a one that there should be no surprise at being humbled by him — by him and of course by Creator God, Who lets Gloryteller,
and indeed helps him,
do what he can’t do,
go where he can’t go,
see what he can’t see,
and be what, and whom, he can’t be.

As the mountains caught fire, he did too, in the spiritual sense.
Humbled, yet on fire?  Yes, like the lightning-sparked blazes in the forests, it was completely natural.
Fire is a muse to him.
So is driving.
So is hiking.
So is lightning.
And thunder-like-a-cannon is a muse to him.
And sitting on a peak, and watching the clouds, and living a life.
So are many writers a muse to him.  (You might be one of them)
So are extraordinarily ordinary people, and not so ordinary,
like Tim The Waiter, who most likely will never read about his genuine, inspiring self here.
Sources of inspiration —
Muses.
Nothing more than types and shadows of The One Source of his true inspiration.
He’s back, yet still away.
Humbled.
Emboldened.
Muse in his own right.
Blazing with ‘musement.
‘Mazement.
He contemplates.
He ruminates.
He wonders.
He ponders……..

What fire burns there?
What does a muse muse about?

He picks up his flat-keyed ‘pen’ and begins to spark lightning-fires,
His muses prompting, chittering, talking excitedly all at once.

~~~
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Father, Son, Pinnacle

Father, Son, Pinnacle

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A Song To Time

 

 

A Song To Time

"The Wheel of Time" by Cris Ortega

“The Wheel of Time” by Cris Ortega

I write and I rewrite my song to beautiful Time,
Moment by moment.

Seeking not to waste her fleeting love,
I almost capture her essence,
Beat by beat,
But it slips away……
Breath by breath,
She steals the day,
And memories.

Never waits,
Precious, even in her arrogance,
Absconds with everything,
But is never caught in her cruel game.

Once, I held her elusive attention.
Once, I was able to hold her longer.
In elation, I was able to dance her
Fair into the night,
Bewitched by her deceitful spell,
And her flagrantly capricious charms,
Ignoring all the obvious alarms…….

Ahhh, but better choosings of late have left me
Fonder memories of her.
Fewer regrets.
Forgiven-ness wrenched
From her unforgiving airs.
Often, I am left with no regrets at all.

I write and I rewrite my song to her.
Moment by moment.
Even though she never loves for long,
And never, ever, stays……

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.
*
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!

*

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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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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It’s Hard To Dance When You Don’t Hear The Music

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To my friend who is an atheist:

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.

Love to you.
Always.
Gloryteller

Changing Spots

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Aslan and Friends

Aslan and Friends

A tiger cannot change its stripes,
Nor leopard change its spots,
 And no man sets himself aright;
Heart-changes are God’s lot.

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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.

^^^

Image

One Last Mountain

One Last Mountain

 painting by John McNaughton

painting by John McNaughton

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

                                                                                                                                                                                           

I AM, I Must, I Overflow

I, Writer

I AM an artist who has a painting inside,
Begging its colors be seen.

I AM a sculptor who has a statue inside,
Screaming to take form in stone.

I AM a singer who has a song in me,
Shouting to be given a voice.

I AM a songwriter who has a streaming score of notes in me,
Imploring that I arrange them into music.

I AM a minister with a message that wants out,
Pleading to be given life.

I AM an actor with the line of a lifetime,
Prompting me incessantly to be delivered.

I AM a poet, an epic verse within,
Oh, how it longs for its flight into the world.

I AM all the above and too many more to name,
Having gifts within to be shared and un-contained.
Too full!
Alas, it is a cloying form of cruelty,
A pretty kind of pain.

I AM
All the above,
For Real and in Figure,
I AM a writer with untold stories stewing,
Steaming, brewing,
Lines and verses,
Of characters, and plots, and loves, and loss, and joy,
And glories
Ready to burst forth from my heart, and chest, and breath, and pen.

Only a writer could know…..
Especially,
A Writer like God……

Image

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.

*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

Image

One Last Mountain

One Last Mountain

 painting by John McNaughton

painting by John McNaughton

I only recent conquered one
Not so distant past
But each peak now seems harder than
Was climbing up the last

I’m walking so much older now
Much slower than before
It’s time to lay some burdens down
And shoulder them no more

 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

                                                                        

Meet Xian (Christian), Part II

Meet Xian (Christian), Part II

Well, you can’t win them all (said anyone who has written a blog).
My post ( https://gloryteller.com/2013/03/07/meet-xian/) about the genesis of my “Xian” (Christian) character, a.k.a. “Chi” was a big flop. I don’t think anyone even read it, let alone liked, rated or commented on it.
That’s life!
However, I’m not one to give up, even when giving up might seem the prudent-est course.

Perhaps it seemed childish, superfluous, or irrelevant, but I like to branch-out; to write in different styles about different subject matter.  It keeps me flexible, keeps me thinking, helps me focus, helps my creativity, keeps me growing as a writer.  I could go on, but I might get boring.  That’s one thing I don’t want to be, for that would dishonor the One I write for, Who is never boring, always exciting, always awe-inspiring, always creative, and in Whom there is never a dull moment!

So!  There’s more to Chi (and that rhymes with my guy) than meets the eye:

Chiasmus

Chiasmus is a literary figure of speech (and how I love a good figure of speech) in which two or more clauses are related to each other through a reversal of structures in order to make a larger point.  Chiasmus means, in Greek, “to shape like the letter X,* thus the sentence structure looks like this: When read left to right, up to down, the first topic (A) is reiterated as the last, and the middle concept (B) appears twice in succession (Also, the middle concept could appear just once).*
I will try to give you an example:
“I don’t want the symbol ‘Xian’ to be boring, to keep ‘Xian’ interesting is my aim.”

Many long, complex chiasms can be found in Shakespeare and in Greek and Hebrew texts of the Bible.  You knew I would get around to The Bible didn’t you!    I was amazed when I noticed how many ways my study of the letter Chi led me to connections with Scripture.  First, the chiastic pattern shown above is well known as the “criss-cross”  pattern.  The apostle Peter was martyred on an X-shaped cross.  “X” also invokes to me the shape of the cross of Jesus.
Second, the chiastic pattern is also known as the A-B-B-A pattern.  ABBA!  One of the most dear names of God, ABBA is Aramaic for “the Father”, and arguably, is Hebrew for “Daddy”.  It was used as an intimate, yet respectful way to address one’s father, and in a very special sense, one’s Heavenly Father.

The classic Scriptural chiasmic ABBA structure is from Matthew 19:30 wherein Jesus says, “But many who are first shall be last; and the last shall be first.”  

Finally, I say that not only is Xian a most interesting little “guy”, but delving further into “his” origins has yielded a wealth of interconnected knowledge, knowledge which touches the very origins of my faith,  all begun by a little drawing of a “guy” I call Xian (Christian).

Did you see what I did there?  😉

*From Wikipedia

Kneeling Among The Perhaps

 

Kneeling Among The Perhaps

 

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

Image

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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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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