Showing posts from January, 2013

The Song "Worn"


Too often I regret that contemporary Christian music paints a picture of struggling believers barely able to hold on but for the keeping power of the Saviour. It is true that the doorway in is often a "doorway of destitution" as Oswald Chambers has said. God has special regard for broken things.

But let us not forget the joy of having this Elder Brother Jesus in a "felt" relationship and assurance. We have Eternity to realize the dividends and a transformed and redeemed planet on the horizon.

I want to post a particularly honest song about the dark times. Performed by the group Tenth North Avenue. Heard it this morning in the early darkness and was greatly moved.

"I wanna know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life."

(Painting by Van Gogh)

Mountain God

Not changing

With shifting wind.

Cupping the sunrise

As a thing

Flashing forth

By your consent.

Source of waters

Highland streams

Where small

Scampering things

Greet new day’s warmth.

Seeming source

Of thunders

Arsenal of bolts

Of shocking power.

Singer of haunting

Night wind’s tunes.

There in place,

Your place

Long before the fathers.

Halting our present breath

With steep inclines,

Testing the might

Of leg and limb.

Pausing to cradle

Dwarfish alpen blossoms

Hidden thawing beauties

Delighting, perhaps,

You alone.

We look up to you

And seek understanding.

Mountain God

Our God…forever.

(Psalm 48)

Double-mindedness...What's that?

To listen to God in one ear and to the trends and wanderings of a hell-bent world in the other; to be consistently unsure of self; to miss the Lord’s smile; to sense the pollution of traitor in one’s being; to dodge repeatedly any serious considerations of the end game; to lack the revivifying dynamic of righteousness; to be miserable.
James 4: 8-10

Psalm Sixty-three


Just such a sunrise

I’d head to the Place

Where priests and Levites

Launched their day

The crackling of fires

The bleating of lambs

The worshipers keen

On their way.

For me it was song

That opened the heart

And beckoned sweet thoughts

Of your love

The lute and timbrel

The pounding of drum

The cooing of small

Birds above.

And now an exile

I run from my son

With treachery’s price

On my head

A stark camp protects

A quick chill awakes

And sun-up, my hope

Is near dead.

But Glory I’ve seen

In your Holy Place

You can’t shut me out

For too long

A day comes and soon

To cherish your face

And thrill once again

In the song.

1.O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is;
2. To see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary.