Showing posts from August, 2012

Diamond Discovery

Consider Psalm 132:

Let thy priests be clothed with righteousness; and let thy saints shout for joy.

A variety of religious thought called Deism compared God to a clock-maker Who created the device we call the cosmos and then simply allowed it to run according to its internal forces. This sounded like good scientific reasoning, according well with Renaissance man. They were also saying that God did not step into the here and now with insight, rescue, comfort, chastening or guidance. This is completely against the Bible view.

The above single verse speaks out loudly. There is nothing good that can be initiated without God. No righteousness. No cleanliness. No praise. No dialogue. He is involved with it all. Today.

He is certainly more than the remote inventor.


Every thought of Him
An act of worship.
Every look upon
That unseen face
A study of calm
Compassion and courage.
The face marred more
Than any man’s,
Taking barbs
And spittle in the streets.
Pressing onward
To Destiny’s Hill.
Dreading it.
Loving it.

The Mission finished
By noblest act of will.
A Father pleased
Though forced to look away
That death might pay
For every trespass
Ever done.
It’s dark, but
Soon the rising
Of the Son.
My Hero.

August, and School Beckons

The milkweed are bursting
They float on the air.
Invisible hands will
Examine them there.

The goldfinches dipping,
With water-pipe cries,
Engage in this banquet
That lazily flies.

The crickets in chorus,
To warm grass resort,
Lamentable chirpings
Of play-time cut short.

The goldenrod brilliant
Like carpets on fire
Supporting the Monarchs
Whenever they tire.

The shade seems more welcome
In summer’s late heat
As geese in formation
Pump practice retreat.

And children just wonder
As strange clouds pass by,
Like marshmallow traffic
Traversing the sky.

Sons of Thunder

He doesn’t seem to hurry. Yet He has told us that many villages must be visited during his allotted time. Allotted? Does that mean that he foresees some abrupt end to this marvelous circuit?

He leaves us most nights, from hospitable quaint home or makeshift roadside camp. It would seem that prayer is so very much more important to him than sleep. But the following day no signs of lagging or fatigue. The crowds never let up. They press in smiling; straining to hear or watch. Becoming almost rude in their eagerness

At the most unpredictable times he will step off to the side, seat himself upon a wagon or boulder and tell one of his stories. Straight out of where they live. Challenging them to forgive, to share, to seek no haughty posture, to approach the Almighty as a father, involved and merciful and in the commonplace.

He knows the prophets, but does not swing such knowledge around as a hammer of condemnation or of authority. The bunch of us try to clear the way for him, village to v…

Liberate Your Prayers

They need it
And I know it
And you’re more
Than can be fathomed
With the answer
Just a simple prayer
I lob it
To the Heavens
With an awkward
Pitch and wind-up
But I haven’t met
These folks for whom
I pray.

Seems pointless;
Names just mentioned
And a hapless
List of troubles;
But I know it’s
Your compassion