Today's ten thoughts

1. The Lord has sent and answer to that last post. I will not be pursuing the further graduate school education I was considering.
2. Thanks be to God all the time.
3. This winter break is fantastic-ness in the making - I have put together a strong regimen of reading, listening to lectures, writing, physical fitness, and house organization.
4. Serving others makes you stronger and is evidence of wisdom.
5. Wait to know more of a matter, never rush into conflict.
6. Encouragement from one you respect is incredibly motivating and satisfying. To think we have encouraging words of God: Why are we not more satisfied?
7. Wisdom is more desirable than pure gold or diamonds or rubies, yes? What are you spending your days acquiring?
8. This thought is actually from yesterday: will the holy angels be "made new" in the resurrection?
9. "Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits."
10. "who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth"

More will come, my friends.

New way

I have been generating a huge word count this past year. My graduate program has entailed the production of more than ten thousand times ten thousand words. And I'm grateful. Such writing has kept my wits sharp, though I have begrudgingly offered them up at times. But, as I move forward in the program, part of me wants to move on to something more engaging. Don't misunderstand me. I enjoy my program. I enjoy the reading and learning and competitive thinking, but the thoughts aren't deep or hard. Or, that could be me and no fault with the program. This morning, for the first time in a long while I thought that maybe I don't want to go on to another graduate degree after this one, maybe I should just hang up the pen for now. Those thoughts have since passed and I momentarily tried to relive this morning's doubt. I have a hard time conjuring up such feelings, especially transient ones like depression. Life is too full of God's goodness to taste bitterness in the wind. I smell victory. And, smart people have told us that smell is more powerful than taste, and it sure is in this case. In a way, it's like prophecy, for the Promise I have been told is greater than the enemies I see.

I plan on writing more in the weeks and months to come, sometimes posting articles here that I write for the university paper or the city paper. Perhaps the editors will even publish one or two that I can link.

The unsung villan

Discomfort in the crib, little whine will do,
Imbibe in the bottle, cry an hour, maybe two,
Until I'm satisfied that I'm the center of existence,
Cute, but in need of repentance,
Though I'd be praised if I put together a sentence,
Other than the one I owe,
See, If I had the strength of a man, you'd be dead when I lose control
When I spill my bowl,
Without the finger strength to grab the knife and slit a throat.
You're shocked because that's so dark,
But more so are men's hearts,
And mine was just waiting to grow.

In the lunch room, sitting in my class row,
Setting down my tray establishing room for my elbows,
Stomach impatient, in the middle of throes,
Telling me get going and have no respect for the slow,
Skip the prayer, let go, and take the last roll,
Remark back to the other kid who wanted it also,
But I'm not giving this, fair is my foe,
And I took and kept that roll with the strength of my soul
This is the nature in all men preparing to grow.

Drop the task, let the moment relax,
Quit the activity, just let it pass.
Too much stress, unblessed
Because you're willing,
Striving to find life
In that which is only killing.
Billing happiness by the minute,
Never letting go until you won't let go,
And when you won't let go, you've given up all control.
This was your life, without Christ as lead role.

Elusive

Smack, splash!
That's the sound of fear raining down and the boy dropping cash
As he jets through the alley like it's a forty-second dash.
There's no time to reason, his instinct says run.
His body only seeks to evade the sights of another man's gun.
Death is no fun, it's a dish you don't want,
Evil from its origin, always on the hunt.
With the riches in his arms, in his bag, and pockets,
Eyes straining for light, but the enemy blocks it
And catches up like a homing rocket.
But he will not get the boy just yet,
As first the boy thinks his enemy forgets.
He doesn't see a tail and thinks he's free at last,
But then he checks his loot and it withers in his hands like grass.
Dreams broken like glass, cries bouncing off brass,
And at the end of it all, the enemy appears to harass
And laugh at the boy who thought he had what no man can keep.
Then to double death went the broken boy to sleep.

Presence made clear

It's been over a month again.


It's that white-hot feeling of knowing that God is near,
Distance once gaping has been closed with tears,
But the dilemma is still pressing, though with only stillborn fears
Trying to tempt me to believe that the truth ain't clear.
But He's standing right here.

A best friend dead with sisters pleading in dirt,
O Master if you were here you could have prevented our hurt,
If only you were here, had been, or never left,
We wouldn't have had to put our brother into the rock's cleft.
But the Master wasn't deaf, He knew all that was occurring.
He even planned it to show the Father's glory, alluring.
They were murmuring, see how He loved him.
He loved them all so much they got to see how He loved them.
Bleed how He loved them.
On a tree till it was finished, the greatest deed done for them,

It's that white-hot feeling of knowing that God is near,
Distance once gaping has been closed with tears,
But the dilemma is still pressing, though with only stillborn fears
Trying to tempt me to believe that the truth ain't clear.
But He's standing right here.

Blind man waiting for a whole lifetime,
Never saw a thing, until it was the right time
And then, in a moment his eyes were opened,
When the Lord did a work so eyes would be opened
Dragged to the synagogue testifying of hoping
And how hope met grace after decades of groping
Seeking what he couldn't find, finally found him,
Testifying till it hurt, and then his eyes were opened again.
For Who he sought was standing right there,
And so he worshiped on the spot, the Lord's presence was clear.

It's that white-hot feeling of knowing that God is near,
Distance once gaping has been closed with tears,
But the dilemma is still pressing, though with only stillborn fears
Trying to tempt me to believe that the truth ain't clear.
But He's standing right here.

A Distraught woman with a stain-filled life,
Burdened by past relationships intensifying her inner-strife,
Until she met at man, at the well, a new acquaintance, see,
Another man who rubbed her wrong, pointing our her delinquency,
She fought back a bit with some quick quips,
He shared the greatest grace in silencing her lips
Showed her that the well wouldn't free her,
Showed her that He was the only One Who could see her.

It's that white-hot feeling of knowing that God is near,
Distance once gaping has been closed with tears,
But the dilemma is still pressing, though with only stillborn fears
Trying to tempt me to believe that the truth ain't clear.
But He's standing right here.

Angry --> Grateful

Lies increase the anger, and anger solidifies the lies.
Who ever thought that illusions could blind?
Anger says you were wronged,
But you've been so wrong.
You've believed you deserved differently.
What planet are you on?
What did you receive that wasn't given to you?
What didn't you receive that was surely your due?
What sacrifice was made to put the payment through?
And you think you deserve and so have a right to be angry?
You think you were wronged and are owed an apology?
Just remember that you were once an enemy,
And were only justified because God acts sovereignly,
Had you remained blind, you would have remained dead.
Because he opened your eyes, you could rightly dread.
Waked to truth, you repented instead,
Understanding your predicament, deserving Hell,
Understanding thankfulness is the only attitude that suits a man well.

faith in bleak times

No, it's another no, another silent walk home.
Another day, another day closed, in the same clothes
Another "we regret to inform you" over the phone,
So how am I to act, and react to this bad news?
It's been so long since I've felt glad, what am I to do?
A simple answer, a formula is just too trite,
I need a revelation of Jesus, filling this darkest night.
I need to see the cross He bore for me and what I was.
That nothing can separate us from the love of God's own Son.

And so in the darkness, in the sorrow, in the mourning song.
I'll trust in God and His power to finish what He's begun.
Only He can change this road and lead us to life and peace.
Only He heal our wounds as our King and God's High Priest.
So bless the Son Who knows our struggles and bore all our grief,
Give Him glory by trusting fully, enduring all with firm belief.

His ways are wisest and full of health, directing away from death.
From God the Father, to us, His children, has come all good, even life and breath.
Never pleased in the wicked's dying; He disciplines to bless,
Let none charge God with question as if God's intentions needed test.