Decisions - Part 1

When no way out shows,
When no parachute pulls,
When the line goes cold,
When the tale seems told,
When the day seems old,
When the player should fold,
And hope stands dulled,
Just a grope for gold,
That's when faith gets bold,
That's when belief takes hold
That's when doubt gets pulled
And dice get rolled.


Watching at the crossroads and waiting for a sign
To shine and set up house in his mind,

To hand him a directive to plod on either side.
But, he waits with no response; the message never arrives.
With a silence so deafening his heart suffers surprise,
The demise of a prize captured in midst of his mind's eyes.
To death, put his momentary hope, in the sky,
Fly away. Leaving him ruminating all day, "Why?"
He knows the reasons seem shy, evading all reply,
But the priority for intimacy between them is too high,
"Come!" moans the seeker, "Don't leave me to die!"
But stillness is all he gets, the silence begrudges a cry.


So through the struggle of uncertitude, though certainty's sure,
He crouches, sniffs the air, and then walks away from one door
Toward the other that promises nothing but still calls to his core.
Though poor, there's no treasure in store,
For the seeker to keep moving, but he's still hoping for more,
Of what, he doesn't know, though clear about who he's doing this for.
Even if that seems untrue if explored,
The seeker knows in his selfish fear to appeal to the Lord.
Many times past it's to Him he's implored,
Then questioned responses as if there'd been a questionable word.
He knows that wasn't right, because the Word is insured,
By His own blood that He poured,
To give the seeker life through the cross He endured.

With his faith re-secured and the path no longer blurred,
Now fixed on not a way, but the Way, with his troubled-heart cured,
The seeker presses forward, to wherever He sends him to go,
Finding satisfaction in the Sender, and so enabled to sow.

When peace comes down, again.

Calling out for peace,
Holding hope for tomorrow,
O that the strife might cease,
But all that returns is sorrow.
Where to turn to now?
Whom to cry to for help?
How long can we hold out
Until the sky falls down on us?

We're calling out to You.
We need a miracle,
Pure and true,
To revive our souls.
Make us new.

As the darkness fades and the light beams forth,
We're mesmerized at the all-surpassing worth
Of Your work.
What was once veiled,
And formerly concealed,
In the face of the Son of Man
Has fully been revealed.

So I cry come Lord Jesus,
Not take me home.
But make me home.
Finally the place where You've set Your throne.
But not all will be going,
Because some keep rowing,
Striving against the waves
And God's love's flowing.
Towing the sins they own,
Owing debts full-blown,
Calling out for the mountains to enclose 'em in stone,

But the mountains will flee with the sea.
The sky will rip open to display God's glory.
None will be hidden from His face on that Day,
When Peace reigns full and the wicked are repaid.

So plead for peace quick,
Because the Judge is coming soon,
To lavish us with more love,
To manifest evil's doom.
Put your-self to the tomb,
Turn to our Groom,
Praise the Living One who makes life from death bloom.


Draft.

Update

I'm in the Balkans right now, and I'm super busy with updates elsewhere.  I probably won't post anything new on this blog before mid-August (at the earliest).

Great Post on Time Management

HERE

Did God really say?
It began that day,
The craftiest of the creatures plotted the play
Prodded the prey,
Teasing the feast that he was preparing to slay
..."Stop, Away."
If only it had ended that way,
Instead it continued down a path to decay,
To their utter dismay
Devastated listeners could only hope and pray.

"Then what happened, Moses?" the littlest blurt.
So he continued sharing about Mr. and Mrs. Dirt.
His own brother?! came next,
and then "They all died?"
No, I said God saved Noah and his sons and their wives.
So many lost lives...
Only sorrow it seems,
A bite of a bit of fruit ripped the world at its seams.
And then a single bowl, and other brothers were split.
Trouble and trials, they couldn't see the end to it.

If only there were the means to reconcile this breach.
The enmity must be removed to permit man's reach.
But no man can offer up.
So God offered down.
Sent His only Son to people the kingdom of the ground,
From the Lost to the Found,
He carried the message around,
He had come as He promised so that joy might abound.
But He was rejected and despised just like in the Garden,
Dismissed, but He kept on the mission He had charted.
Unlike men, His heart was guarded,
He would endure the shame.
He was executed and then crushed,
Bearing man's blame.
This is why He came,
To show the greatest love born in the greatest pain.
That's why He's got the greatest Name.
That's why He ever reigns.
He's worth more than the praise from all things
Praise be to Jesus, the Lamb that was slain.

Being mastered

Just some quick thoughts

Have you ever wondered why most rappers don't publish their lyrics (and when YouTubers do, the song suddenly stuns you with its graphic nature or stupidity)? My guess is they realize how foolish their messages sound when spoken without the aid of trance-inducing harmonies and deafening bass rhythms. "I'd pop a 9-milli off my hip, and let it emit." That's inspiring. Not. And yet, that crass music is shaping our culture - or should I say destroying it...poisoning it. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying that all music with great harmonies and deep bass are bad. I'm talking about lyrics, lyrics which ride on the coattails of auto-tuning and take advantage of ignorant youth. These lyrics are poorly written, immoral in most matters, and just plain dumb. Perhaps there have been a few sophisticated rappers in the genre's history who have cleverly engaged political, social, economic, and religious issues, but they are exceptions. I believe that a fundamental shift is occurring in the genre. Whereas in past days the best rappers were secular and they offered color-commentary on the racial divide in the States along with goofiness and fun-loving street stories, today's secular leadership raps about demonic possession (Eminem's new song as well as Jay-Z's self-glorification in hijacking the transliterated name of the Hebrew God prove this point), illicit sexual immorality, and all other forms of iniquity, today's best rappers are Christian, trading places with those of yesteryear. Whereas the old-school Christian rappers were rather laughable in ability in comparison to their secular counterparts, today's Christian rappers are both adept in skill and provocative in their message. They have something NEW to say to this people-group, and they're sharing their message much better than everyone else is sharing theirs. Now, to be sure, I'm talking about a small group of the overpopulated genre bloated with money-chasers and fakes, but that's how all categories are often defined - by the group that becomes large enough and visible enough to determine whether there is something good or beautiful for others to desire or enjoy. When an art form reaches a point at which it's respected, that's when people begin listening. With Christian rap, that point is being reached. With secular rap, that point may be lost - I can only pray. You can too.

It's not "just music" my friends. Just like the hijacked planes on 9/11/2001 were not "just planes." Vehicles can cause real damage.

To make the imagery as vivid as possible, the smutty rap that's being shoveled to my youth these days is like a sexually transmitted disease that these fame and ephemeral glory hounds are spreading like male cult prostitutes for Baal seeking satisfaction by means of darkness. And the heinous nature of this disease is that as my youth have spiritual intercourse with this trash, they begin reproducing it in kind. They bear the fruit of this darkness.

Whereas good issue (Biblical terminology) brings forth good life, these prostitutes spoil good waters with their filth.

Low profile preacher, with a lion-fire heart,
Wouldn't equivocate with truth, but just obeyed it from the start,
His knowledge wasn't power, but it fueled the fire,
Inspiring his worship of the God he admired.
Though weak and tired,
God's presence desired,
Waiting on his Hope to light the Liar's pyre.

to be continued

end time

His gait was paced and his muscles tight,
You could isolate him in the crowd as they split left and split right.
He tried to be a normal guy on any normal night.
But it wasn't a normal night that night.
It was the end of their time.

He called out like a man possessed, a man obsessed,
Loud shouts with his words, terse at best,
Calling for a city-sized hearse to wrest,
Our lives from our grips.
That judgment would shut our wicked lips - no more quips.
It was the end of our time.

For a few days he didn't stop, he just kept on,
Calling out over and over, as the truth started to dawn
On us, that his words weren't wrong, no fuss
Would resist, as our hearts started to insist
That his words did consist of all we had missed.
And it was the end of the time.

So from east to west, we broke and wept,
The power of the Almighty swept
Over and made us fear,
That the judge man was coming near,
The coming judgment was clear,
And it was the appointed time.

But God showed great patience,
He didn't do away with the wrath, but reserved it for the Ancient.
That in our stead would stand one day on That Occasion,
The King would die for enemy-subjects, Amazing!
So why wasn't the judge man more elated?
It was the end of that time.

He thought God's judgment was already too belated.
But, God had known that the man and they were related.
The judge man sulked, but God's word wouldn't be debated.
God is good, all the time, too great to be graded.
His mercy in Christ, would you degrade it?
Just be-aware that we near the end of time.

God wins.

Ill-dippin', cloud-equippin', sight-spittin' phenom,
Squelchin' waves with a blaze that doesn't die with the dawn.
He makes wolves lie with the fawns,
Brings back the dead when they're gone,
Flexing His brawn, crushing all injustice,
Yo, He's never been wrong.
Even His weakest is strong,
The meekest wait, for His coming is never too long,
By the word of His power upholding this planet we're on,
Until it's time for the song,
As from the hearts of the saints His praises prolong.
No more cries for judgment will spawn, It's done.
Like a theft, with the offer withdrawn,
He was but casting for a moment, but now His show goes on. He won.

Truth matters

This discussion has ignited the zeal (good and bad) of some and is revealing the positions of many.

1. Why do we defend people before defending the truth? Which is more valuable in God's eyes: His name and the truth, or men? Are they always/never/sometimes mutually exclusive?
   
2. Jesus said He is the truth, and so when we suggest the truth matters, but not enough to separate people, we must then ask if we're also saying that not standing with Jesus and thus opposing Him would result from standing with men who teach what Jesus did not and especially teach that which Jesus opposed.
3. If facts about one's teaching have already presented themselves from which a man will not separate himself, shouldn't that be admitted evidence that what a man will teach about on the same subject can be surmised until proven contrary? If not, why not?
   

Who

A man is small, weak, and wears out like a garment.
His bones break, his skin sags, and his eyes fail.
Sound eludes him, the earth shakes him, life flees him.
Gone is his vigor, his insight, his power.
Death approaches, the sun sets, man's love fades.

God is great, strong, and eternal.
He is Spirit, He is from everlasting to everlasting, and He knows all.
He hears all, He is God and there is no other, He is life.
He strengthens the faint and weary with infinite supply, wisdom is His whose power is abundant.
He has approached death and done away with it, and He deals justly with this creation, as He makes all things new.
His love endures forever

C.S. Lewis - Miracles

Miracles

Only lightly quoted for the first reading

Page 62

A nation’s moral outlook is just so much of its share in eternal Moral Wisdom as its history, economics etc. lets through. In the same way the voice of the Announcer is just so much of a human voice as the receiving set lets through. Of course it varies with the sate of the receiving set, and deteriorates as the set wears out and vanishes altogether if I throw a brick at it.

Page 131-132

Pantheism certainly is (as its advocates would say) congenial to the modern mind; but the fact that a shoe slips on easily does not prove that it is a new shoe—much less that it will keep your feet dry. Pantheism is congenial to our minds not because it is the final stage in a slow process of enlightenment, but because it is almost as old as we are. It may even be the most primitive of all religions, and the orenda of a savage tribe has been interpreted by some to be an ‘all-pervasive spirit’. It is immemorial in India. The Greeks rose above it only at their peak, in the thought of Plato and Aristotle; their successors relapsed into the great Pantheistic system of the Stoics. Modern Europe escaped it only while she remained predominantly Christian; with Giordano Bruno and Spinoza it returned. With Hegel it became almost he agreed philosophy of highly educated people, while the more popular Pantheism of Wordsworth, Carlyle and Emerson conveyed the same doctrine to those on a slightly lower cultural level. So far from being the final religious refinement, Pantheism is in fact the permanent natural bent of the human mind; the permanent ordinary level below which man sometimes sinks, under the influence of priestcraft and superstition, but above which his own unaided efforts can never raise him for very long. Platonism and Judaism, and Christianity (which has incorporated both [only the undiscerning have taken the whole system of Plato - D.S.]) have proved the only things capable of resisting it. It is the attitude into which the human mind automatically falls when left to itself. No wonder we find it congenial. If ‘religion’ means simply what man says about God, and not what God does about man, then Pantheism almost is religion. And ‘religion’ in that sense has, in the long run, only on really formidable opponent—namely Christianity.

Cup standing straight, power tower, take a drink,
Of the lust that world is swimming in to sink.
Not aware, to think, that we're skating the con's rink.

Madness that the lie will perpetuate a truth,
A man's heart cannot earn what it's never been due.
Naive because its allegiance has been squandered on fools.


Conned men nurse the lie that they have what they want,
But instead of sweet endings they settled for the means at the front.
Con men nurse the lie that they will get what they want,
But instead of sweet endings they'll wakeup where devils haunt.

Subtle snares: mistaking means for ends

C.S. Lewis: The Great Divorce

Page 73-74

There have been men before now who got so interested in proving the existence of God that they came to care nothing for God Himself...as if the good Lord had nothing to do but exist! There have been some who were so occupied in spreading Christianity that they never gave a thought to Christ. Ye see it in small matters. Did ye never know a lover of books that with all his first editions and signed copies had lost the power to read them? Or an organizer of charities that had lost all love for the poor? It is the subtlest of all the snares.