”He just keeps saying the same thing over and over. We know about the gospel.” Now they don’t say it, they just do it. They just ignore me.
I’m not looking for your pity. Like all of you should be doing, I’m bringing the words of our God to the table.
You know what seriously funny about that? Among all of you, I am the most unworthy. What would our world be like if the people who are well accepted in this world began to speak these things?
But I fear their estimation of the power of God is infinitesimally small. “If we start speaking about these things they will come and take away our place.”
Now there’s a thought worth pondering.
Author Archives: hiwaychristian
Astounding
Cutesy words. Captivating stories. Murder, mayhem, chaos, violence, vengence, Intrigue, lies mixed with truth, and every other unholy thing, these draw the attention of Man.
But lay the gospel of Christ before their eyes and they turn away in disgust.
You say that’s not true?
The Good Die Young
Some say there is no God. Others doubt that God cares. Some think there is a God and that he cares, but they are left to fend for themselves in this place until they reach heaven.
Then can you explain why there is any good in this world at all? What is it about the world that gives you the impression that good can triumph here? A bad man succeeds, while a good man is shot down in the street. And isn’t there a saying among us that the good die young?
The proof that there is a God remains in his faithfulness to deliver survival to a people who despised him so vehemently, and glorify violence and death.
You think you’re in control of your life? Think about this:
A man in India, one single man, will do a single task today. What others have done before him, throughout the world, will dictate what he does today. Another man in Saudi Arabia will do something today. He’s single action will reach you or your children sooner or later. Are you really in control of your life?
People will do what they do. They will say, or not say, what they want. A handful will give glory to the Majesty of God among us. But most will live their entire life giving no glory to God at all. They may respect him and fear him but they refuse to speak of His Holy name in public.
Yes God cares, in spite of the fact that we don’t. God is beautiful in Jesus the Christ. Man is a mucus mold on eternity. Still God holds out his hand to us.
18 “Come now, let us settle the matter,”
says the Lord.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.
19 If you are willing and obedient,
you will eat the good things of the land;
20 but if you resist and rebel,
you will be devoured by the sword.” (Isaiah chapter 1)
The Sickness
I can speak of this personally. What the world calls madness has fallen upon me. And much like the madman who’s drool becomes a beard, I am oblivious to their concern.
“He is not like us. He does not prize the things of wealth. He does not show proper concern for sickness and trouble. He does not protect his property. He does not show regard for proper education. He makes a mockery of what is important to us. He thinks every man is a liar, he doesn’t honor the necessity of political compromise. We would call him paranoid, but he does not display the fear associated with that bend of mind. No, this is a sickness called obsessive religion.”
And they are right. I am obsessed with the Holy and Righteous Son of the Living God. Worse than that, I am not ashamed. Didn’t they accuse my God of the same thing when he walked this Earth?
It has been said I have lost my Humanity. Yes I’m have. Have you looked around and defined what humanity is? And am I supposed to take that saying as an offense?
“If he were truly from God he would have a great following.” How many is 12?
“Passion for your house has consumed me,
and the insults of those who insult you have fallen on me.”
(And I am made greatly glad.)
The Fabric of War
A man sits pleasantly
In his overstuffed chair.
Happily he stares out the window,
At the peaceful world out there.
I see it too.
Like all the rest of you.
But I also see something more.
I see the fabric of War.
The tapestry of nature;
Love, Hope, Faith, sure.
But I see through to the other side,
Those things to which those three are blind.
Engaged against a cunning foe,
Who employs the joyful and much more.
He sits and lurks among the leaves,
Watching, waiting, peace to deceive.
Be at peace old man and be there till,
Your Sun goes down and your body lay still.
You’ve escaped the blood you’ve escaped the Valor,
But what will you say when your skin is clay pallor?
White hot seduction screams contentiously by;
Tracers cutting air, in a bloodthirsty line.
Till one of them strikes through my vulnerable thigh.
Then angry, YES, am I!
Who is to blame?
It’s not you, it’s not me.
It’s the fabric of War!
Why, old man,
Can’t you see?
The time of repose is not in this life.
This is the place of blood, death and strife.
I’d rather be wounded, approved and endure;
Living strong in “The Faith of HE who is Sure
But do rest and enjoy the picture you see,
Whether stillness of beauty, or the warring disease.
Do not let your soul be caught shaken my friends.
But fight, oh do fight, to the promised strong End!
The Legend Waits
You’ve seen it in the movies, how someone is running away from a crumbling building. For the sake of theatrics, they always manage to miss the last piece by inches.
Isn’t life like that? What we build always seems to fall apart. But by some fortunate circumstances, we are always inches ahead of the last falling peace. The noise, the dust, the sparks that fly, they are always behind us, or just brushing our shoulders.
But just as curiously, there is collateral damage. Many are caught in the wake of catastrophe from our mistakes and mishaps. And we, ourselves, are victims from the work of countless hordes of fools. Death is the place where we emerge from the smoke and dust.
I wrote a poem called “Sorrow”. The poem is the offspring of this realization. With all sincerity, I desire that death should come. Let it come and put an end to this catastrophic event called “My life”.
I don’t desire death because I’m lazy. I desire death because of Jesus. (The very same reason I’m still living.) I desire death that there may finally be peace in the place where all I could bring was horror. I desire death that his work may find completion.
How precious then are these words he has led, inspired or incited me to write. Though they cause upheaval, it is for the better of every soul. And as I have written before, as long as I live here these words remain concealed.
They are concealed because of the pride of Man. As long as he can attribute an errant human to these words, he will not find them nor seek them out. But take away the man and the legacy sprouts wings. “He was ten feet tall. He was the epitome of muscle and brain. His heart was forever in the right place. He was a saint among us!”
How wrong they will be. But how useful is their error. May God be glorified in Jesus His, Holy and Righteous Son for the sake of what He has done in this fool.
Words From There 