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He Returns On Fire In The Third Person

22 Jun 2013 4 Comments

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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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You’re Living On The Surface

01 Jun 2013 6 Comments

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I don’t remember what mood or incident triggered this rather “different” drafting;
rather more outspoken, and opinionated, and, maybe, judgemental than my usual.
It is almost a rant – a departure from my normal voice, but I feel
that it was put in me for a reason; that it is a rant against the enemy,
and that a special someone will benefit by hearing it, and I pray
the Holy Spirit sends it where it should go:

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You’re Living On The Surface

I see you up there where my own self once languished,
Pleasure seeker.
(Never think that I deem myself better than you,
For I have been you
And am you)
But at the same time,
This is how the Endteller said it would be;
That most would not see past their hands
Feel past their skins
Think past their morning coffee
Their all-day coffee-chased pills
Their evening intox
Giving themselves away in so many imaginative ways
Their narco-laced, caffeine-based,
Red-saffron blood-fed
Self-stimulated gorge
And surge
And purge
And urge
Huge, insatiable appetites whet
Tiny, urgent, skimming lives.

Food, drink, pleasure, weep;
Slather, blather, rinse, repeat.
Rat-race to anxiety,
Retreat into a fetal sleep.

Where Me, Myself, and I is a
meaningful relationship.

Loving only love is false.
Where the tee-vee is the mirror
And the mirror is queen,
Where desperation-devastation has the taste of sinn-amon
Sin-ammonia
Sin-pneumonia
Stinking poison
Sin euphoria
Where life’s meaning wades in a shallow, muddy puddle
And no new taste
(sing this part to your favorite tune)
No new place
No new clothing
No new feeling
No new art
No new wine
No new toy
No new noise
No new bauble
No new ring
No new car
No new poem
No new scenery
No new skin
No new lie
No new anything can satisfy for long.
No new association is a satiation anymore
And even the plaintive inside voice
That says “there must be something more”
Is fading.
This is how the Endteller said it would be
Oh, Beautiful,
Oh, sad, lost, desperate pleasure seeker.
Oh youthful, doomed, nightmare dreamer.
And there’s no way out but more of the same
More of the same
More of the shame
More of the same…

The elusive answer is hiding in plain sight:
Awaken from surface sleep,
For morning awaits with gifts in her hands.
Transforming and new
For there is much more than you have seen or imagined.
Dive deep beneath the flotsam of an empty existence,
Dive deep to where Love Himself waits well beyond the shallows
Though you may not love Love yet,
There, in the depths where you are loved so intensely,
Is a start
Is your ransom
Is your beginning
Is your only hope
Dive deep, drown in Love
Oh, Beautiful, becoming, emerging seeker.
Astound the Endteller.
Dare the depths and be saved from the nowhere-place
The nothing-time
Of a surface-self existence.

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I Shared My Everything

30 May 2013 4 Comments

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With you

Not only some cash

Not only some time

Not only my past

Nor pain

Not only my failure and success

My love

True, and again, yes

But most of all I shared my faith

Spurned or embraced

That is all I have that really matters

Even Faith-So-Small

My everything and All-In-All

My joys and my sorrows

To make a difference

THE Difference in hope for your tomorrows

A deposit with endless interest

Awaits you there

When and where

And if you will accept the prayer

Of faith

Of everything with you I gladly share.

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Evil Tries, Good God Triumphs

20 May 2013 1 Comment

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Nowhere, Nothing, No-One, Never —

Of Trial and Triumph

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

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

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

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

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Oh, Heart! Seek Happiness? Accept Joy!

29 Apr 2013 3 Comments

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

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

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

To have happiness and Joy together,
oh, Heart, is a precious gift.
But,
take heart,
Joy persists even in sadness.
No one can steal your Joy
unless you let it be taken.
There is unhappiness,
But there is no unjoy,
Joy wells up from deep inside,
Overflows to the outside,
is a living, life-giving, sustaining thing;
is abundant, noticeable, contagious;
is independent of external forces.

As happiness is precarious,
Joy is precise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

24 Apr 2013 Leave a comment

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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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Changing Spots

17 Apr 2013 Leave a comment

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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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Lie

15 Apr 2013 1 Comment

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Who has not said
“I love you“,

But later said
“I’ve changed my mind.”

“You liar; you lied!”

“I never did; I meant it at the time.”

A lie
lies
In the reddened eye
Of the beholder.

A lie
Lies ancient in
A liar’s blackened heart.

A lie may be admitted,
Explained away, or hidden,
But love is not like that.
Love can’t lie.

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He Colored My World — I Wrote Some Blues

12 Apr 2013 1 Comment

Copyright © LS Gloryteller 4-12-2013
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Country Life

10 Apr 2013 2 Comments

DSCF0673

Oh, the poetic beauty of country life.
If I had slept ten thousand nights,
I could not have dreamed the like
Of birdsong sounds,
Of visual delights.
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Image by Gloryteller

Metaphor Mountain

04 Apr 2013 6 Comments

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

(I’m using quotation marks because I’m trying to teach myself to use the words “love” and “hate” appropriately, that is to save them for situations in which their true meaning applies)

What I really mean to say is that I like mountains intensely. In my book, one can only love living entities that one can have some sort of relationship with, like God (especially Him), a person, or perhaps a pet. Of course the words love and hate can be used metaphorically and that’s the way they are most often used. You hear it umpteen-zillion times a day. (Wink) I, myself, hate that. Oops, I dislike that. It is so common we don’t even notice the frequency of “I love it when”…., or, “I hate it when”. It’s annoying when I hear “I just love your hair, and that purse, I just love that, that’s to die for!”. We all do it, but how did we get so far from the true usage? Love God with everything you’ve got. Love your neighbor as yourself. That’s a tall enough order for the word “love”. Hate the sin, love the sinner! Another mighty tall order, yet, in those two sentences are found the true meaning and usefulness of the words love and hate.

I’ve gotten slightly off the trail. Let’s get back on it: If there were inanimate objects I could love, however, they would be “the mountains”. I have had, and am having, some wonderful real and metaphorical relationships with them, a few notable individual mountains in particular. If I had a “bucket list”, being in the mountains would be on it right after being with my people.

Mountains have real and metaphoric value in my life because they emphasize several opposing concepts:

Ascending and descending.
Higher and lower.
Danger and safety.
Climbing and falling.
Struggle and peace.
Beauty and desolation.
Heaven and Earth.
Spirit and flesh.
Good and evil.
And the awareness of the proximity of life and death.

I could expand this list almost endlessly, but you get the point.

Recently, the subject of death has been on my mind. My post, https://gloryteller.com/2013/03/25/one-last-mountain/, uses ascending a mountain as a metaphor for death. Perhaps it will become more than a metaphor. Perhaps I will “meet Death” on the slopes of a real mountain. Most likely it will be a metaphoric mountain that will claim my bodily life.

When I was transformed into a believer, my many and various fears were either taken away completely or were significantly diminished. My almost obsessive fear of death was one that was removed. All that is left is the natural, instinctive, compulsion to preserve my bodily life. Death, to me, is the necessary step I must take to reach Paradise, Heaven, and eternal life in the presence of my Lord and my Heavenly Father. Yet, it dawned on me that perhaps I’m taking death too lightly. Is it really a natural part of life? Is there nothing that can be done about it? If it is normal and natural, should anything be “done” about it?

I subscribe to the school of thought that death is a corruption thrust into a creation that was perfect before selfishness turned into sinfulness and spoiled the whole plan. I also believe that there is something that should be, and can be, done about death, and that is to believe, and believe in the Savior, who was sent to vanquish it. Death is the consequence of our sinful nature, but He accepted true death in our places, so that we would not have to face the permanent consequences of our selfishness. Jesus defeated selfishness with selflessness! Everything that should and could be done about the problem of death has already been done! Problem solved! Done! Over! Finished! But only for believers in the One who did it perfectly and died for it perfectly! (I’ll leave it to you to discern and comprehend the larger, more complex, concept of death beyond the relatively simple death of a body.)

So, that being said, perhaps I still don’t really know enough about death, nor the process through which it will take me. Perhaps when the moment comes, I’ll be unprepared and I might succumb to fear, or find out that everything I thought I knew was wrong. It only happens once, and, although there are those who claim to have returned to their bodies, or returned from Heaven or Hell after they died, I suspect that death is an individually unique occurrence to which the testimonies of others have little value. There is only one person I personally know who has returned from death – my Lord and Savior, Jesus. I only trust what He said about it. That is recorded in the New Testament.

To climb a mountain, it is vital to be prepared. It’s interesting that the word “vital” comes from Latin roots meaning “relating to life, or the quality of being alive”. In my case, it means being able to preserve my life and my ability to stay alive throughout the whole journey; until the adventure is completed. I must pack the essential food, water clothing, and first aid supplies. I must have a map of the area and the route to the top either in my “head” or in my pack. I must be in good physical condition. I must have a positive mental attitude. I must have skills and knowledge, and be able to use them wisely. I must read extensively about the subject. I also must know how to pray and talk to the only One who will be my companion all the way. There will be only one chance to “get it right”.

Preparing to summit a mountain is like anticipating both bodily and metaphysical death – knowledge about what will kill you, makes you stronger. The stronger you are, the more likely a good outcome. The Bible says every person will die, then live again in an eternal body. The only question is “ which of two eternal ‘places’ will a person exist in after that”. I choose life – abundant life – with God.

Yes, that metaphoric mountain rises before me, and yes, evil will stalk me all the way up, but, before me, Jesus walked, and fell, and died, and lived again on that final mountain so that I would need to fear no evil; so that I would not have to fall, and break, and die before reaching the summit. His Spirit will accompany me and I will rely on His strength as I get weaker on my journey to the top, where He, Himself, awaits my arrival. From this land’s end until The Endless Land, I will trust God and believe in The Son of Man, and that not a moment too soon, for now, day breaks the gloom of night, and I can begin to see my humbling, huge, sobering, mysterious, towering, massif on the horizon.

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I AM, I Must, I Overflow

02 Apr 2013 2 Comments

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……

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The Expense of Safety

29 Mar 2013 1 Comment

A Good Friday Offering

The sole ferry to safety was ready to depart.
Special admission only.
One solitary ticket stand.
Last chance.
I had not the standing,
Nor the price of admission.
I stood forlorn in fear,
I would certainly be tortured and killed.
Then a Man stepped up.
Radiating such undisguised love,
Unveiled compassion.
He gave me His own precious ticket with a smile.
No hesitation.
He paid my price.
Dooming Himself.
Bewildered, I caught hold of it.
I stood astonished,
Forgetting even to thank Him in my haste,
As they cruelly beat Him down,
Dragged Him away,
To what fate I couldn’t know,
Didn’t want to guess.
My fate . . .
In horror, I watched
As I walked backward
And, not nearly grateful enough,
Stepped onto the boat.

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Kneeling Among The Perhaps

09 Mar 2013 10 Comments

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

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Meet Xian

07 Mar 2013 Leave a comment

Meet Xian
AKA, Chi – My Kind Of Guy

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

This is his story:

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

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

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

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

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

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An Expanded Prayer To My Father In Heaven

06 Mar 2013 2 Comments

My Father

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, Yours is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory,
For all time, and through unfathomable eternity.
You are my ABBA, my Heavenly Father-God to Whom I pray this prayer.
In Jesus’ most holy name.
Amen, and Amen.

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A Writer’s Prayer

06 Mar 2013 Leave a comment

A Writer’s Prayer

“Lord, inspire me.”

Yes, that’s it.
Short prayers that speak volumes are best for me,
And He has never failed to answer in volumes.

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Writing Is ?

02 Mar 2013 6 Comments

Writing Is?

Writing is not my life,
But the Life I write of
is.
Writing is not my god,
But the God I write of
IS.

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Beyond My Understanding

02 Mar 2013 5 Comments

Beyond My Understanding

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Proverbs 3:5

Way beyond my understanding.
All I know is
It was a miracle that remains
And the miracle was a gift
Delivered to crumbling doorstep
Outside my sagging door locked tight
Nailed shut,
Yet breached,
It sat inside on rotting floor
Shining to be opened.
To be believed past unbelief
By miracle, not my doing.

Gift

It is salvation wrapped in grace undeserved.
The gift of faith to see hope once unseen.
A new heart unchained
Full with compassion
And repentance like a changing wind.
Heart to feel abundant love long unfelt
And mirror eyes to see myself as I am seen
Then others too, the same.
And mercy, charity, a call to pray,
A heart to sing, a heart to praise,
Hands to raise, a Book to read
All unwrapped and taken out,

When gift, upon gift, inside gift, unveiled
Then took away all fears and doubts
Healed my aching soul complete
And full and whole, then more, and more
A heart to tell of gifts and Glory,
Of His Great Love,

Holding out poor offerings,
And gratitude, a heart of thanks,
I thank you JESUS, thank you LORD!
That You should care for me.
To rebuild my house,
To give me gifts,
To give me Yourself.

Oh, Miracles beyond my dull understanding,
Though nothing is beyond Yours,
I can but sit in rejoicing gratitude.
And no better gift
Nor more precious treasure
Could forever enter
Through my splintered door.

Image by Gloryteller

No One Doesn’t

25 Feb 2013 15 Comments

No One Doesn’t

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

Image by Gloryteller