Daily Archives: October 14, 2014

The Ride of Your Life

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Have someone tie your wrists to the tail of a powerful horse.  Now strike the horse with a stick or the sting of a whip.  You are about to encounter the ride of your life.

Tie a rope around your waist and connect the other end to the bumper of a car.  Select a careless teenager and let him drive.  At the moment of your word, you are about to encounter the ride of your life.

So it is with all who give themselves to the will of the Holy Living God.  As you have bound yourself to him, so will your life be changed.

By His Grace

God is First

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Some men are given to love this world with all their heart and mind and soul.  I cannot help them more than to say, “God is first”.

Some men are given to love His Holy Word with all their heart and mind and soul.  I cannot help them more than to say, “God is first”.

Some men are consumed with the world’s idea of aliens on other planets, or perhaps with nothing but prophecy.  I cannot help them more than but to say, “God is first”.

The living God is more than this world.  The living God is more than the written word. The living God is more than conjecture.

God is first.  Nothing counts but faith expressing itself in love.  And our faith is firmly grounded in the Holy Son of God.  Eternally, it will not be otherwise.

By His Grace

Willoughby Wallaby

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A poem for my grandson Danny.

Willoughby, Wallaby, Sneaker, and Snore, cast off in two boats t’ward an elegant Shore.

Leaving behind their frail  hopes and weak dreams; risking it all to pursue The Great Scheme.

Willoughby Wallaby soon took the lead, flexing their muscles like white stallion steeds.

Sneaker and Snore barely took up their oar, considering labor a venomous bore.

Said Sneaker, “This work is is to hard for us two.  Let us hitch to your stern.  What say Double U?”

But word was sent back with a scowl and a snort, “Row as you can!  We’ve no time for your sort.”

Soon came a Breeze, gainst their bows, to drive back.  But Willoughby, Wallaby gave work no slack.

Sneaker and Snore soon rested their oar.  And let the breeze blow them straight back to their shore.

Back to their poverty.  Back to the stench.  Elegance not being worth muscles wrenched.

While Willoughby, Wallaby soon came in sight, of an elegant castle perched high on cliffs white.

A rope was found dangling on which they could climb.  Their great oar born muscles began t’ward sublime.

Reaching the summit, they were welcomed with good, and welcomed into their fine brotherhood.

The moral is sure to escape none who read:  You get what you pay for; you reap from your seed.

By His Grace