Proclaiming God's Glory Through Posts and Short Stories ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
24 Dec 2016 Leave a comment
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 poignant video clips are from The Nativity Story, upload thanks to Peperamico.
Merry Christmas from Gloryteller.com
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23 Dec 2016 Leave a comment
My
Christbirth
**tree is ever-green**
***With everlasting life***
Its branches & its members
***Clothed in colorful lights***
*Lights reflected by ornaments*
*****Of all shapes and sizes*****
***Which shine just as brightly***
*******It’s filled with surprises!******
***Wrapped ’round with garland****
**********As a bundling rope**********
*********The whole tied together*******
*******With warm faith and hope********
**********The star at its crown is**********
***********Wreathed in white light**********
*********Can be seen near and far**********
******’Cause it’s clear, pure, and bright*******
************That’s the part of the tree***********
**************That ultimately pleases*************
********************You see*************************
*******For the Star at the point and the apex*******
************************Is Jesus*************************
*****And the branches, the lights, and ornaments*****
**************************Are we*****************************
****************For He is the Bridegroom********************
************We are His church, bride, and wife -*************
*************The trunk that stands in The Water,***************
****************************The Water of Life.***********************
Water
of
Life
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Happy Christbirth!
von
©Gloryteller.com
21 Dec 2016 Leave a comment
We must remember this,
Amidst the noise and fuss,
JESUS is the subject of Christmas,
And the object of Christmas is US.
*LS*
Merry Christmas from Gloryteller.com!
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21 Dec 2016 Leave a comment
Zu meinen Deutsch sprechenden Freunden in Österreich, die Schweiz, Deutschland, die Niederlande und überall, wünsche ich Ihnen frohe Weihnachten und glückliches 2017. Mag Gott Sie und Ihre geliebten segnen.
Len bei Gloryteller.com
(To my German-speaking friends in Austria, Switzerland, Germany, the Netherlands, and everywhere, I wish you a Merry Christmas and a happy 2017. May God bless you and your loved ones.)
Len at Gloryteller.com
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04 Dec 2016 2 Comments
He writes poems.
He writes fantasy fiction stories.
But can he write a “romantic” Christmas story?
We shall see . . .
To my own
Morning Star:
All is calm, all is bright. “Just for us”.
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 greeting 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 languished there, regretfully, because of circumstances better left buried. Complicated days, those had been. He had needed to address some personal problems. He had been a fool. Yet, in the months of the following new year, he and Mary had worked their way through those problems with love, respect, and with indispensable Divine help. He gave her the card the next Christmas, when it could be sincerely and wholeheartedly given.
In spite of all their years of experience in the Church, even now, the responsibilities and demands of the season had once more come between them; kept them too much apart yet again; highlighted their differences; hampered communication; brought frustrations, and 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 images, like that of binoculars which refused to stay in focus. How he longed to have everything right and perfect between them.
So it was only right tonight that he remember that first Christmas card, for reading it together had become one of the centerpieces of their unity during many joyous Christmases . . .
“Because You Mean So Much”,
it said, above pine branches and a sprig of holly complete with red berries. He pictured it in his mind and 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. He was almost through the bedroom door when 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 possessed 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 Mary!
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. Her pretty brown eyes seemed moist. Had she been crying? “Our moon is perfectly full tonight of all nights!”
“Mary.” He kept his voice soft and low. “Wow, it sure 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. “Just for us, do you think?” 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. Our closeness hasn’t been as close as I would like.”
“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. Dave and Mary could feel them near.
“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 twelve 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 twinkles and brown sparkles swirled as their eyes shone . . .
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.
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Peace, Love, and Hope
Beyond your understanding,
Be yours tonight.
Merry Christmas, 12-24-2012 (updated-2015)
Footnote:
I have been watching the night sky, as is my habit,
and I have been anticipating that there might be a real
full moon . . .
And sure enough! A rare Christmas full moon!
Tonight – Christmas eve – the night of December 24
and morning of December 25, 2015!
I’m delighted, for part of my story is fulfilled,
even though I wrote this years ago!
I ‘looked up’ the details and found that
this phenomenon hasn’t happened for 34 years,
and won’t occur again for another 19 years.
I thank God for His continuous wonders!
(One of which is you, dear reader! You are a gift from God!)
Thank You!
Your gloryteller, Len
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© Copyright by Lenn Snider 12-24-2012
02 Dec 2016 2 Comments
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Today is the anniversary of my second-birth day.
My rebirth day.
My original birth was kind of like Christmas;
Without it, there could have been no Resurrection Day.
Without my first birth, I could not have been re-born.
My life could not have been repaired, resurrected, and redeemed.
First came my birth day,
then an Advent of sorts – a long time of waiting and preparation.
(even if I didn’t realize some of that stuff,
that garbage was preparation)
then the great gift of joy in a second-birth day!
Needless to say, for my birth and rebirth
I am extremely thankful!
♫Happy birthdays to me,
Happy birthdays to me,
For both, I am thankful!
Happy birthdays to me!♫
On this day a few years ago,
I caught Him!
He had been chasing me
harder and harder,
faster and faster,
for about two months.
He chased me until I caught Him!
The lost was found!
The blind saw!
Fear fled!
The enemy ran!
That moment was the perfect meeting of the physical
and the spiritual.
The perfect arc between
the seen
and the unseen.
Grace touching flesh.
Faith bathing a heart.
Salvation invading a body of being.
It was instant, yet time seemed to stretch
into the infinite – into veritable eternity.
One moment, I was slowly dying in a hopeless world,
the next, I was delivered into Heaven!
I was like sea glass –
all the rough, broken edges smoothed –
I was remade from refuse into a beautiful gem!
I was a new creation and I felt it!
It was transformation – metamorphosis!
My cocoon dropped off!
I was free!
A newly adopted child
with a newly granted citizenship
including new customs, traditions,
benefits, privileges, responsibilities,
and a new language!
I wept!
I overflowed!
Needless to say it was a moment of pure JOY!
Joy so intense that it remains to this day.
Thank You, Jesus!
In a sense, I was born with You in that stable.
O, how can I ever thank You enough
for making that possible?!
For me, and for all people!
Thank You, our Highest Lord!
YOU ARE Wonderful!
Counselor!
Mighty God!
Everlasting Father!
Prince of Our Peace!
Happy Birthday to You, dear Jesus,
and because of You,
to me too!
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01 Dec 2016 Leave a comment
To make a poem,
I set my sights,
On thankfulness for joyous delights.
For gifts undeserved
Like family and home,
For gifts in the past
And for any to come.
The meter I chose is simple and light,
It’s the pulse of a heart,
The tempo of life.
It’s the rhythm of music,
The cadence of time.
It’s the light
It’s the sun
It’s my sight
It’s a rhyme.
~~~It’s her eyes
her form
her laugh
her smile
her hugs
her kiss
her running a mile.
the flowers in Spring
a gold wedding ring
a child who can sing
the love of our King.
the giving of gifts
a smooth quantum shift
a much needed lift
repair of a rift.
the colors of fall
the green of the grass
a huge mirrored ball
a trout and a bass.
it’s numbers
it’s paintings
it’s fractals sublime
it’s this state of wonder
so much of the time.
(And the stream murmurs love to the sycamore tree,
The tree tells a cloud, and the cloud tells the sea.
The moon hears them all, and he chuckles with glee,
And he sparkles the stream by the sycamore tree.)
~~~It’s my feet
a trail
a treat
a sail
a hike
a bike
some sand in a pail.
a lawn
a lake
choc’late icing on cake
a fawn
a yawn
sacrifice for my sake.
a dress made of lace
a calm peaceful place
winning a race
happy tears on my face.
the music of life
an end to all strife
the cosmos so big
a lucrative gig
a rope down a rock
a warm cotton sock
an arrested fall
a tick of the clock.
(And the stream murmurs love to the sycamore tree,
The tree tells a cloud, and the cloud tells the sea.
The moon hears them all, and he chuckles with glee,
And he sparkles the stream by the sycamore tree.)
~~~It’s a star
the moon
a par
a dune
a birth
the earth
a warm evening in June.
a choir
a band
an orchestra grand
a voice
a song
a run in the sand.
green
or red
a blanketed bed
an egg
a pun
a horse that can run.
a heart
a soul
a cinnamon roll
a sigh
a laugh
fresh pineapple from Dole.
a love
a mind
a person who’s kind
our girls
our boys
our comfort and joy.
good starts
good ends
an egg-laying hen
abundant life
it’s neighbors and friends.
(And the stream murmurs love to the sycamore tree,
The tree tells a cloud, and the cloud tells the sea.
The moon hears them all, and he chuckles with glee,
And he sparkles the stream by the sycamore tree.)
~~~It’s the clouds
a quest
adventure
a nest
a wonder
rejoicing
It’s acing a test.
a manger
a stable
a mother
a birth
an angel
a message
it said “Peace On Earth”.
the love of God
the hope in His Word
His grace
His glory
His armor and sword.
it’s truth
it’s faith
an eagle
a dove
my Savior lives!
It’s His love!
It’s His love!
It’s His love!
It’s His love!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Keep going, this refrain is different)
(And the stream murmurs love to the sycamore tree,
and she sings to her friend, “There is music in me!”
The tree tells a cloud, and the cloud tells the sea,
“There is music in me!” “There is music in me!”
Wise Moon hears them all, and he chuckles with glee,
And he *sparkles* the stream by the sycamore tree.)
~~~♫~~~ϔ♫~~~Ѡ♫~~~≈≈≈♫
~~~☺♫~~*~~*~~*ϔ♫~~*~~*~~*
©Len at Gloryteller.com 12-01-2015
All rights reserved
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30 Nov 2016 Leave a comment
Every December, I like to start the Advent season by posting the video of this enormous, soaring, amazing, heart-warming event. I try not to use the word “love” lightly or frivolously, but I absolutely love this composition from Handel, this immense pipe organ, this crowd, this choir of believers, and the Subject of this song!
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Jesus Lives!
Let Him Be Worshipped
And Adored At All Times,
In All Places,
By All Willing Hearts!
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Worship is not a matter of the place,
no matter how commercial, or secular, or even “holy”.
It’s not a matter of the crowd,
no matter its composition, from the faithful, to the skeptical.
It’s not a matter of the means of praise,
no matter how lofty and soaring, or off key and humble,
nor how vocally and instrumentally technical.
It’s not a matter of numbers,
no matter if a large gathering,
or a single off-key voice,
singing or speaking,
with a clapping beat,
or no beat at all.
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Worship, it seems to me, is a matter of
the condition of each worshipper’s heart.
Only God has full estimation of that;
however, in this retail store there seems to be a crowd of
like-minded, like-hearted, worshippers
setting commercialism aside for an eternal moment
with one great-big, majestic, musical instrument
All led and kept together by one amazing conductor.
How analogous to our God and His people!
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There might be examples of all the above conditions of worship in this video.
He is worshipped and adored here – yes, even here – inside the huge Macy’s in Philadelphia – a worldly, consumeristic, retail marketplace where materialism and money normally are king. But not today!
This highly organized flash mob sings along with the world’s largest working pipe organ, the massive Wanamaker Grand Court 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.”
Hallelujah
Written by George Friedrich Handel
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
For the lord God omnipotent reigneth
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
For the lord God omnipotent reigneth
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
For the lord God omnipotent reigneth
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
(For the lord God omnipotent reigneth)
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
For the lord God omnipotent reigneth
(Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah)
Hallelujah
The kingdom of this world;
is become
the kingdom of our Lord,
and of His Christ
and of His Christ
And He shall reign for ever and ever
And he shall reign forever and ever
And he shall reign forever and ever
And he shall reign forever and ever
King of kings forever and ever hallelujah hallelujah
and lord of lords forever and ever hallelujah hallelujah
King of kings forever and ever hallelujah hallelujah
and lord of lords forever and ever hallelujah hallelujah
King of kings forever and ever hallelujah hallelujah
and lord of lords
King of kings and lord of lords
And he shall reign
And he shall reign
And he shall reign
He shall reign
And he shall reign forever and ever
King of kings forever and ever
and lord of lords hallelujah hallelujah
And he shall reign forever and ever
King of kings and lord of lords
King of kings and lord of lords
And he shall reign forever and ever
Forever and ever and ever and ever
(King of kings and lord of lords)
Hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah
Hallelujah
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11 Nov 2016 4 Comments
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Jesus.
Gets.
My.
Vote!
My vote belongs to Him.
I see His name at the top of every ballot,
and because He is there, I know all the sickness,
all the deception,
all the selfish ambition below that holy name,
will be reversed, repaired, and made right.
Chosen, groomed, and nominated from birth,
His campaign for leader of countries, worlds,
and all Creation, has been flawless.
Jesus runs on the platform of truth,
whereas His opponent relies upon unceasing lies and deceit.
Today, it seems, lies and deception are the easier, more appealing,
ideas in which to believe.
The Constitution must be protected.
Jesus’ covenant with us is His Constitution –
and its protection should be our priority.
When our earthly elections are finished,
Jesus will still be leader of all the people he has made.
One shining day, all people will bow before Him.
Sadly, those who have embraced the party of Death will be sent
to join their leader – the aforementioned opponent, the prince. of. lies.
The party of Eternal Life must and will prevail.
He is our Savior,
our Shepherd,
our Pardoner,
our Guide,
our Defense,
our Victor in battle,
our Benefactor,
our Blesser,
our Physician,
and our Unifier.
He is the only leader who:
has the power to save each of us,
to make our country great,
forgive us,
keep us from debt,
defend us,
give us purposeful work,
give us abundance,
heal us,
and bring us together.
Today, the collective nation has gone farther away from God
than ever in our history.
We have, as a country, lost our way.
The nation’s foundational document, the Constitution, is in danger.
We are becoming a people of, by, and for, the Government
instead of the intended opposite.
Our dignity and traditional way of life is fading.
We are being overrun by evil from the inside out,
and from the outside, in.
He can save it all if we turn back to Him as leader.
He is the Servant King.
We need to choose Him as Leader,
for He chose us first,
loved us first,
appointed us first.
He alone deserves highest accolades for serving our nation.
He alone can make us great again;
make us a righteous country;
Put us back on the right path;
Set us apart as a people,
not perfect, but differing from the world
because of the Leader we serve.
As for me and my house, we will vote, first,
for Jesus.
He is the ultimate Winner,
the consummate Head of State,
the absolute, highest Lord and Glorious Leader.
In Him
is
a beacon of freedom,
a bastion of security,
a sanctuary of safety,
a fully fulfilling life.
Jesus has my vote.
He alone is absolutely faithful and trustworthy.
He alone knows the way,
and leads us true,
when we would rather stray.
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This piece was meant to be published before voting day, Nov. 8, 2016,
But technical difficulties kept it from you until now.
Apologies.
However, as He has told me many times,
“Better late than never,”
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10 Oct 2016 4 Comments
The boxes were heavy as I trudged repeatedly from the house to the brush pile – the pyre where reams of history would soon be torched. Along with the boxes, my spirit, too, possessed a heaviness. The boxes contained hundreds of my son’s saved pages of schoolwork, many notebooks filled with homework notes and lecture notes from high school and beyond through the college years.
The “burn pile” was large; at least ten feet in diameter and more than six feet tall. It contained branches and limbs trimmed from the many trees gracing our well-kept landscape and the yard around the farmhouse. I placed the boxes carefully on top, in the center where the fire would burn the hottest. If you’ve ever burned stacks of paper or books, you know it requires a very hot fire to heat them through to the point of combustion.
“It has been many years since my son and I weren’t together at the burning of a brush pile,” I thought. It didn’t seem proper, somehow, having a big fire without him there to help control the blaze, to enjoy the sights and sounds of the flames, to share comments, to discuss random things like politics, science, sports, and God.
“The Burning” is a tradition we have observed together for years, four or more times a year, with good reasoning behind it: Two are better than one for fire control, like I said, for keeping everything pushed together in order to burn it all, and also for experiencing together the exciting roar, leaping flames, and unbelievable heat of a large bonfire. (Yes, dear reader, I know I’m repeating; I’m bad about that, and also good at it)
The companionship was always foremost, but not today, for he has moved to “the big city” to attend medical school in pharmacy.
I’m missing him worse today.
I need to get used to single-handed fires,
but I don’t want to,
but I must.
Heaviness of spirit drags at me even though spirit is life.
The fleshly burden of the grey generality of death tries to press upon my bones.
Concentrating on the task at hand helps me ignore it.
He is not one to save a lot of extraneous stuff, so I was surprised at the large volume of heavy paper and notebooks he had left in his closet. I, (with his permission, of course) with urging from his mom, who dislikes clutter much more than I, took up the job of disposal. But his saving all that material makes sense when I think about it. He has been an excellent student. He worked unbelievably hard to maintain a 4.0 GPA for many years; his name was never absent from the honor rolls and Dean’s Lists. He graduated Summa Cum Laude. He has the desire, the motivation, drive, and work ethic to excel in everything he does, including sports, music, and even video games!
He put a lifetime of effort into those boxes of papers. He has thousands of hours invested therein. They represent something important to him – and to me. I was reluctant to strike the match to light the accelerant I had poured in the center of the pile, but I let the muscle memory of old ritual accomplish the action. Dry leaves and twigs caught and quickly the whole pile was burning nicely. Soon, fiercely. Soon, so hot that there was little smoke. Cardboard caught and gave way, spilling papers and notebooks outward and downward. The flames were all-consuming, devouring all but the memories.
I thought of all the times our son and I had sat at the dining table doing math homework. I had actually needed to relearn subjects like geometry and trigonometry in order to help him. He said it helped him learn, when he had to teach me some of the material. We helped each other and thus moved forward together, frustrated when correct answers would not come and excited when they miraculously did.
When the pile had settled and flattened like it always tends to do, the burning papers became ashes moving and stirring in the updrafts and currents of super-hot air. As I watched, a sudden, surprising, synchronized dance began. Although there was no breeze, ashes began to rise quickly skyward like reverse confetti; like a snowfall of large, fluffy flakes returning to the place from where they came. The flakes of ash confetti were uniform; about one inch to an inch and one half square, and all were grey/white.
Thousands of them rose and spread out like a cloud of
twisting, spinning, fluttering creatures,
lifting, rising, sweeping upward.
Amazed, I thought, “Wow, that is amazing! There it all goes!”
I began to have an empty feeling.
Then joy began to arrive; epiphany appeared.
“This looks like an offering,” I thought. “I could make this an offering!”
Where had that thought come from?
Then I realized that I could return it all to Him who had made it.
To honor Him who had made us, and given my son all his wonderful gifts.
To Him who had honored me with a son and honored my son in turn.
“Beauty from ashes,” my heart said.
“I lift it up, Lord, I offer it all up to You!”
I offered it up with abundant thanks,
with absolute praise,
with affectionate worship.
The emptiness left. The heaviness of spirit lifted.
“His burden is light.” It is LIFE.
His grace lifts the ashes of the burdens of our lives.
I saw material rising up in the hot updraft and I knew that His grace was rushing down and in like cool wind from heaven to replace it. Right there, in that moment, I stepped through a thin place and was lifted up in the joy of His blessings.
Out of the rising, redeemed ashes, I realized, Lord, that my son would always be with me in spirit, just like Yours!
That is good news – the best news – and I thank you for
paper and pen,
a brain and mind,
a body and spirit,
a son to love and be loved by,
and the unexpected gift of beauty from ashes.
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15 Jul 2016 Leave a comment
Re-posted from three years ago:
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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!”
And 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 this.
You see,
I look at it as 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, an elbow bump from God – while reading a book authored by a pro-abortion atheist, views I strongly disagree with (Ayn Rand, a very, very talented, enjoyable, and skillful writer/novelist, and anti-socialist which I do agree with),
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”…..
wow
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 also 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 the scenery is still and stationary. The trick is, I gather, to stop, turn ninety degrees, and look past the lines, deeper into the page. I tried it, 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 going past turned directly toward his/her desired objective. What a great metaphor!
“Line upon line, precept upon precept” is, to my mind, a good thing – a good way to build a work. 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!
19 Apr 2016 2 Comments
I’m often mystified about my “Gloryteller” situation:
Why me?
Do I deserve the name?
Am I smart enough, or more to the point, wise enough?
Who am I to write of God’s glory?
Moses asked “Who am I that I should go . . .?” when being sent to the Pharaoh,
and God told him He would be with him.
Jeremiah said “I don’t know how . . .“
and God told him He would be with him as well.
King David also asked “Who am I, that You would . . .?”
I am extremely less than those pillars of men . . .
Sure, sometimes I feel unworthy,
under-qualified,
ineligible,
over-extended,
in-over-my-head,
like I bit-off-more-than-I-can-chew,
like a fish out of water,
unfit for the task.
Nevertheless,
Here I am.
He gave me the name Gloryteller and no one else I know of.
He gave me a commission, a purpose, a message, a personal story to tell, and a way to tell it.
I do feel all of it was imparted to me so that I could give my own testimony,
my perception of His glory
in my rebirth, transformation, and salvation.
“What ‘other’ god can even come close to unfastening His sandals?” I ask.
So I will continue for Him; with Him.
I will do my best.
What about His glory? :
It has always existed, as has He, the Godhead,
the Trinity,
– HE,
I AM,
has always existed.
It is said that His glory is fundamentally intrinsic and not external.
Yet, to me, it does seem external in a sense – in Jesus!
Heb 1:3 – “the Son is the radiance of God’s glory”!
In John 17, Jesus refers to the glory He shared with The Father before Creation.
The word “glory”, (or derivations thereof) appears more than 500 times in The Bible.
How can God’s glory be described but by our inadequate words?
Also, does he impart a finite, minor amount of His glory to us?
I think so, in a sense.
He gave us words to explore the above two questions:
There is a certain majesty and magnificence to mankind.
There is certainly an elegant splendor entwined in our souls,
although, in some, it is hidden, latent, or unfulfilled.
Humanity is capable of honor.
We are designed for distinction – raised to eminence at the very peak of creation.
We glimpse glorious greatness and grandeur in our own creations, our activities, our accomplishments.
We, as a people, respect those who earn renown, recognition, and good repute.
We are capable of love, in fact, I believe we are designed to love and be loved.
Regarding the “Human Condition”, all the above attributes are but analogies,
mere metaphors, and meager reminders of the true, absolute, and unfathomable glory of God.
Yet, we fall so far and fail so hard as a people and as individuals to live up to the demands of the concept of His glory.
As a people, we too often forget our citizenship in Heaven. As a group we love our world-born selves more than higher things unseen. We often make an eyesore of our gifts of whatever majesty, magnificence, elegance, and splendor that we have. Mankind, too often, makes a mockery of whatever eminence, greatness, and grandeur we have been given. We are prone to give our respect to people who hardly earn their renown, recognition, and reputation.
In God, there is only brightness and light. In us – humanity – there may be some light, but there is also darkness.
We are capable of being beautiful in the highest sense of the word, but, more often than not, we end up enacting the most terrible and ugly destruction. As humans, we are poor models of His glory, it seems to me, except for the one human who was also God.
And love.
Love!
In my mind, love is the easiest of all the attributes of His glory to understand even though we may not fully understand His perfect love. We want love – desire it – to a person.
But do we love?
Not always.
Not often.
Too often, not well.
We glimpse His glory, but fail to strive toward the God kind of glory.
(Not you and me, of course, but the majority of humanity.
Insert uncomfortable chuckle here . . .)
Can we see His glory?
I think each individual who is curious about God’s glory gets ‘close to it’ in a slightly different way.
Again only in glimpses. Most people probably connect to it in nature. For me, a high mountain scene takes me there – or a flower, any plant, or animal, or bug, showcases His genius creative nature – seeing a baby, a child, a birth, the sky, the stars, life in its diversity, people in theirs.
To be high-up in the mountains reminds me of His high holiness.
His transcendence.
His set-apart-ness.
His mystery.
The lightness of the air takes me close to the heaviness of His glory.
How mysterious, His ability to know what is in our hearts;
to transform our hearts into new ones at the perfect time.
He is the pinnacle.
The Highest Being imaginable.
The Most High Lord.
His glory is elusive, yet we sense it because we are His. If the Holy Spirit is in us, it follows that at least some of His glory is too!
Unimaginable, but isn’t it true?
We may have a smattering, or more, of His glory in us.
We may have glimpses of His glory when observing His creation and when reading His Word.
We may even have personal revelation that points to His glory.
But, I don’t pretend to understand the fullness of His glory.
If we were suddenly exposed to the reality of it, I think our minds would short circuit and shut down, but I do have faith that when He gives us our resurrected bodies and minds in Heaven, they will be able to contain the entirety of the knowledge of all His glory. We will be able to bear the ponderous weight of it and we will be in perfect, resplendent, glorious relationship with Him!
~ ~ ~
To conclude:
I am but a lowly one of a multitude of writers and authors (scribes) for Him –
just a scribe in His service –
a scribe to the Lord –
Psalm 96:8 : “ASCRIBE to the Lord the glory due unto His name.”
Is that not a Godincidental twist of wordplay?
Is that not a remarkable confirmation?!
So, despite my questioning and self doubt, it turns out that I’m intensely thankful for my Gloryteller situation.
It means:
I am loved, and revered, and thought of, by my FatherSonSpirit in Heaven.
I have a special purpose in life.
I have faith in His plan.
I have a story to tell and a way to tell it.
I have (and I am) a mind, body, soul, and heart on loan from Him.
He trusts me to use the above for His benefit and glory,
and for the benefit of others.
After all, when I first said,
“Who am I to write for You, I don’t even know how?!”
He did say “It is alright, I will be with you.”
And He has been, is now, and always will be.
(What did I expect, anyhow?)
I may feel unworthy, sometimes, but I am honored all the time!
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26 Mar 2016 3 Comments
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Rejoice! Rejoice! With All Your Might, Rejoice!
Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think,
in one way or another,
about Christ’s crucifixion, His resurrection, and His ascension.
Today is no different.
But wait,
it is different, for today is His 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 for me
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, 4-5-2015 and 3-27-2016
(re-posted, with edits, from 3-31-2013)
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25 Mar 2016 1 Comment
It is Good Friday. This is the day of remembrance of how my Lord Jesus suffered the agony of torture and death.
Like the criminal on His right, I believe a part of me hung there and died with Him that day – the dark part that needed to be put to death – in order that I might be saved into eternal life with Him. Like He spoke to that wretched, miserable, condemned man, He still speaks to me today through His Word, with labored breath, gasping one painful word at a time as if we are face to face –
“I. Forgive. You.” “You. Shall. Be. With. Me . . .”
When I stood accused of selfish sins and crimes that I knew I was guilty of, He effectively said to me as He stood there weak, trembling, and covered with blood:
“Don’t worry, you’re “good”. Get behind Me. I love you too much to let this happen to you. I’ve got this.”
His torture and death were my fault in a sense. (My brothers and sisters argue that it is theirs, which may be true, but I maintain I am the guiltiest) He went ahead and saved me anyway. He forgave me that fault – “It’s forgotten,” He said, graciously.
What kind of Love? . . . I can scarcely fathom.
So, I don’t know about the “Good” part of Good Friday.
It is also called Black Friday and Holy Friday, either of which I can relate to, especially “Holy Friday”, but hardly Good Friday, except that good resulted from it.
You can’t have a resurrection without a death, especially THE Resurrection following THE Death,
both of which rocked the foundations of the world.
If anything should be called “Good”, it is Resurrection Day – “Good Sunday” if you will – the joyous day that I lived through Him, and had Life because of Him, and was shown the true meaning of Love.
I once again turn to Stuart Townend, Keith and Kristyn Getty to express with music and images what cannot be expressed with words alone. I pray that every heart that hears and sees this will be broken, transformed, and renewed at the foot of that one horrible, and glorious, cross………..
Thank you victoryinjesus123 for uploading this beautiful video.
Oh, and one more thing – the power of the cross is only the beginning.
The power of His victory over death lies at the doorstep beneath the joyously-open doorway of His empty tomb!
THANK YOU, JESUS!
That hardly seems enough to say,
Yet it is heartfelt.
Father, help me LIVE those three words.
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22 Mar 2016 Leave a comment
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I read in Our Daily Bread today that “our Savior hung between Heaven and earth
to bear every sin of every generation on His shoulders.”
He hung between Heaven and me . . .
What pain it gives me to revisit that scene . . .
But the above statement led me to think deeply about
what He had told his disciples
and us,
only the night before He hung there –
what we must do to remember Him;
to remember who He was,
to remember what He did,
how He did it,
and why.
As I pondered,
and contemplated,
and thought,
“The Lord’s Supper is absolute genius”
is what I concluded.
(not that I think I’m the first, nor the only one, to proclaim that)
(and I know that I foolishly reiterate the obvious,
because of course it’s genius, it’s Jesus! )
He broke the bread and compared it to His body
which would imminently be broken for us.
He poured the wine out and compared it to His blood
which would soon be poured out for us.
“He hung between Heaven and earth.”
He was, and is now, intermediary between us and The Father.
Not as a wall, but as a bridge.
He made a way to raise us to His shoulders,
thus standing between us and the evil one “in the earth”.
As for myself, there is far more here than “meets the eye”.
Have you ever thought about how grains
like corn, barley, rye, and wheat are all separated
from the earth by a woody stem?
The seed head of the wheat plant is the “fruit”, in a sense,
that we use to make our bread.
The same applies to “the fruit of the vine”;
tomatoes, cucumbers, kiwi, guava, and, get this – passion fruit –
and predominantly, grapes.
All grow above the ground on woody or semi-woody vines.
They all contain juice, but grape juice makes “traditional” wine.
(side note: there is great debate whether Jesus’ “fruit of the vine” was unfermented juice, or wine)
I’m in the wine camp because wine stores better, not to mention that the Bible states “wine”.
I won’t even dwell on apple, orange, peach, plum trees, or berry bushes,
each of which produce juicy fruit on woody stems;
but I’m getting off track.
The point is that grapevines, like wheat plants,
produce their fruit “between Heaven and earth” on woody stems,
and the final product of both were used at the Lord’s Supper.
The Last Supper of our Lord!
By now you may be making the connection I’m getting at.
Lord Jesus compared His body to a broken loaf of bread,
and His covenantal blood to the poured-out juice of the grape,
in order that:
“as often as you
eat this bread
and drink this cup,
you will do so in remembrance of Me.”
Connecting His spiritual Self to the physical act of
eating and drinking something specific,
is brilliant in my estimation.
It makes the act sacred, and simultaneously
makes our remembrance of Him sacred.
But for me, it doesn’t end there.
Jesus was always using agricultural metaphors because,
I assume, most everyone in His day knew something of the subject.
Is it a great leap to make that He also connected Himself
with the fruit of the earth?
With harvest?
With life-giving, life sustaining, food and drink?
With saving us from spiritual starvation?
If that connection is only for me to make
in order to strengthen my faith in Him,
to take me deeper into our relationship,
to tell me more of the story I long to know more about,
or to give me insight into something so sacred
that I scarcely can digest it,
Then so be it.
You, dear reader, can make of it what you will.
If it doesn’t do anything for you; if it sounds wrong, leave it.
But here’s the thing:
I maintain that Jesus not only connected Himself to
The Bread and The Cup,
But also to the wheat and the grape.
Rich and ripe,
He stood like a sturdy stalk of wheat
before a terrible threshing,
and He hung like a beautiful cluster of grapes
before a horrible crushing.
He stood and He hung there between Heaven and earth,
between us and oblivion,
between us and eternity,
to intentionally endure the torture of threshing,
and the horrible crushing pain – for us, dear reader. . .
The first and best fruit of the earth,
until the harvest was finished.
He made Himself our everything,
even our spiritual food and drink.
Essential, lifesaving, sacred, and beautiful.
The Lord’s Supper.
The Lord’s Harvest.
Absolute Genius!
Absolute Jesus!
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12 Mar 2016 2 Comments
^^^
❤
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 unjoyness.
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 mentioned about 30 times in the Bible,
Oh, Heart,
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,
Or in any season.
Happiness depends.
It needs a reason.
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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29 Feb 2016 4 Comments
~ ~ ~ ~
“Nothing before, nothing behind;
The steps of faith
Fall on the seeming void, and find
The Rock beneath.”
–John Greenleaf Whittier
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Les, a man – an agnostic man – was conversing on the telephone with a friend. The friend was trying to explain faith to the unbeliever but was having little success. The fifteen-year-old daughter of the friend overheard the conversation and impulsively interjected a comment from across the room.
“What’s that Laura said?” asked Les, “I couldn’t quite make it out.”
“Oh, she is quite the student of poetry – and she has quite a deep understanding of her own faith. She just said this: ‘Why don’t you just tell him what John Greenleaf Whittier said about faith? – Nothing before, nothing behind; The steps of faith fall on the seeming void, and find The Rock beneath.’ “
“I’ll write that down. Sounds a little deep for me. Thank her for the thought, though.”
“Wait, Les, she also wants me to relay another message. She thinks God is chasing you. Oh, that kid! You had better listen, she is a very insightful girl!”
After the call ended, Les got curious and ‘Googled’ the poem. “Yup, here it is, she got it word for word!”
“Nothing before, and Nothing behind.”
“The seeming void . . .”
“Kind of sounds like me.”
“The Rock – finds The Rock.”
Sounds like she wants me to believe The Rock is God . . .”
Curious, he saw a ‘related link’ and clicked it.
Hebrews 11:1: “Now faith is the assurance that what we hope for will come about
and the certainty that what we cannot see exists.”
“Hmmm,” he thought. He went back to the poem. Looked at it harder.
Went deeper – and it was deep!
He went back to the verse even though he had avoided anything to do with the Bible for a long, long time.
He sensed warm breath on the back of his neck.
“Chasing? Yes, I think she used the word chasing. . .”
He found this under the verse:
Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary
“11:1-3 Faith always has been the mark of God’s servants, from the beginning of the world. Where the principle is planted by the regenerating Spirit of God, it will cause the truth to be received, concerning justification by the sufferings and merits of Christ. And the same things that are the object of our hope, are the object of our faith. It is a firm persuasion and expectation, that God will perform all he has promised to us in Christ. This persuasion gives the soul to enjoy those things now; it gives them a subsistence or reality in the soul, by the first-fruits and foretastes of them. Faith proves to the mind, the reality of things that cannot be seen by the bodily eye. It is a full approval of all God has revealed, as holy, just, and good. This view of faith is explained by many examples of persons in former times, who obtained a good report, or an honourable character in the word of God. Faith was the principle of their holy obedience, remarkable services, and patient sufferings. The Bible gives the most true and exact account of the origin of all things, and we are to believe it, and not to wrest the Scripture account of the creation, because it does not suit with the differing fancies of men. All that we see of the works of creation, were brought into being by the command of God.”
Esteeming himself a scholar, a learned man, a lover of art and poetry, he looked and studied and delved into the words and concepts which had escaped him – no, which he had ignored and run from for years.
“How do I catch hold of this stuff? It all seems so impossible. Yet what all this implies is that I need to step outside my blind self more, and into the part of me that can see.”
“Les, let Me . . .”
“I think I need to slow down and let God catch me a little.
But how did Laura know I liked poetry?
How did she know to quote me that one poem out of millions of them?
How did she know that it would touch me – change me?
How did she know to say ‘God is chasing me’ so that I became aware of such pursuit?”
“It’s her faith. Laura knows my love. She is mine.
She wants you to know me as well,
as do I.”
Les called his friend. “Hi! I was wondering if Laura is at home. She is? Are you guys busy? I was wondering if I could come over and talk to you both about the message she had for me. Lunch? Sounds great, be there in an hour.”
Les took the steps of faith; well, a leap of faith, really,
and within two months I,
I mean he,
was HIS as well, and has never had a single regret.
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Wait, never alone!
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Gloryteller 