The Mist of Dawn


The Morning Sun is coming.  How do I know?  I know it by the faithful promise of repetition.  I know it by watching the morning mist escape it lowly bounds.

Soon the Sun will rise and burn it from its hiding place.  What it thought it did in secret will be openly proclaimed.  “This land is mine!”  Says the Sun.  “I have come to claim what is rightfully mine.  Away with you before my presence.”

The Morning Son is coming.  How do I know it?  By watching his faithful promise of repetition.  I know it by watching rebellion escape its lowly bounds and creep across the land.

Soon the Son will rise and burn it from its hiding place.  What it thought it did in secret will be openly proclaimed.  “This land is mine!”  Says the Son.  “I have come to claim what is rightfully mine.  Away with you before my presence.”

Winter


Holy Father I thank you for your majestic wisdom.  You tell us truly, that we are all without excuse before you.  For the things you have made, and the place where we live, testifies brilliantly of your Holiness.

You have caused all men to consider these things.  Not one man lives, but that he considers the nature of the place you have caused him to live.

You have written this way in unmovable stone, and it will not be taken out of the way.

Sovereign Father, by the mercy of your Holy Son, I come to you for explanation.  In your righteous expectation we are to understand and to obey.  So I am right to expect an answer.

In all that you have done, creating this place. you have made all things as they appear.  You are righteous Holy Father.  Therefore what you have done is what must be done.  But I have failed to grasp the meaning of Winter.

I understand that you are pure and pure light; the Light of righteousness, life, holiness and eternity.  And so you have made the snow to fall pure and white, virgin and innocent.

Your righteousness is deadly to all that stands against you.  For sin cannot appear before your Holy Throne.

In my imagination I perceive that the heat of our judgment to be burning and endlessly hot.  Yet with all that could be we find things as they are.

My mind is betrayed by a lack of understanding.  How is purity that appears in the coldest and deadliest of times?  Yet it does not appear in the time of heat.

It is not possible that this can make no sense.  It is therefore the weakness of my mind to fail to understand.

————–

In the purity of winter man is forced to rest on the previous days of labor.  It is a time of extensive difficulty.

If he has prepared well, survival is guaranteed, but for the weakness of flesh in disease and sickness.  But if he has failed to provide, during the time if necessary labor, difficulty will increase even unto death.

To venture into the purity provided, a man must be properly clothed.  Anything less then what is appropriate will surely demand too much.

It is a time of forced rest.  The time of preparation is past.  It is the severest season of testing.  And brilliant purity will force it on all.

————

You are Holy and true.  You have set a place which is unavoidable to all men.  You will command and we will appear before you.  The labors of our days will be tested.

If we have prepared in your Holy Son, we are dressed in his pure clothing to protect us from the onslaught of your judgement.  But who can stand that day without your loving compassion?

It is a time of abject horror for those who have not considered its demands.  And no man can provide for himself the things that are necessary.

————

Hide me in your majestic shadow Sovereign Father.  Dress me with the strength of your Holy Word, even Jesus your Holy Son.  Have mercy for my weakness.  I appeal to you by your promises. 

You are True, Holy, Righteous, Pure, Eternal, and your compassion is endless.  I run to you, that you may burn away to things that are displeasing.  That what remains may live.

All my letters are signed, “By His Grace”.  You taught me to do this many years ago.  May my soul appear before you with that signature.  For salvation belongs exclusively to God the Father and God the Holy Son.

The Salve


I am always amazed when it appears.  For the greater part of my life I never even knew it was.

It is a pain that does not have words, even from the one who has it.  Instead it is audibly expressed in sighs and moans.  There are no words given to men to describe its origin.

The heart aches, and there is no medicinal cure.  The pain remains, though there is short lived relief.

Doors are barred shut!  Pride takes his stance against humility.  Wounded and hardened hearts refuse the salve that can heal them.

This remedy I carry.  Yet who will even ask?  And when it is offered it is refused without thought.  An up right palm says “;No”.

If even one asks and receives there are billions more waiting.  So it was with the Lord, so it is with him now, so it is with me.

Foster Child


In the language of men there are the words, “Foster Children”.  The meaning of the phrase is to embrace, teach. love and include. 

Ideally such children are brought into a family because they have been considered as human trash.  Their prior value was nothing more then to be disposed of on a heap of hatred and abuse. 

With all hope, they are included into a new family and caused to prosper.  With all hope, in time they will forget that they were hated by the very ones who ignored their obligation to love them.

So it should be with our love and craving for God. 

Waiting


God IS.

Everything that He desires to give to man, IS.

Sorrow “IS” from “waiting”.

Everything that we fail to desire, from the things He is willing to give, remains “waiting”.

And so, the Holy Will of God among men, remains “waiting”.

Who is “waiting” to receive?

Who is busy “waiting”?

The former are a well spring of “Pure rain”.

The latter stop the “Pure rain” from reaching the crop.

His desire withers in the field.

All the while, the withered consider their condition “life”.

Who will fill their container with Living Water that they might water God’s crop?

 

 

The Impending Wreck


One by one he connected the couplings.  Moving forward then backing up.  By the length of his day, 200 loaded cars stretched out behind.  To rest and prepare, he bid his eyes sleep.

Just before dawn the engine roared again.  This time not for idle speed.   Black smoke billowed toward 70 miles an hour.  His mind focused on what must be done.

It is too expensive to waste time fretting; what loss may come along the way.  Evening, and he will reach his destination.  He sets his mind like steel.

Doing all he can, the wheels pounding, whining, whirling.  A blast of noise pierces the air:  “I’m coming through and you can’t stop me!  Let all who bleed beware!”

Heed is taken normally.  But this time life’s awry.  There’s someone stuck upon the tracks.  This someone’s about to die.

What happens next is not worthy of words.  The judgement has come for one.  And in his wake great tears will flow.  What justice can be done, with words written here?

—————

O’ man, you are like that train.  You couple your days together with sin.  All day long you do what you think is best.  You have believed the lie that every man does as is right for himself.  Come morning you push the throttle full, mindless of what comes next.

“There is danger.  Yes.  But I am here, and I will do the best I can.  Competition demands my excellence.  And I will give it to them in spades!”

You do not let God guide you.  You do not submit to His Holy way.  Therefore you speed, with all intensity, toward the gates of hell.

Who will stop you now.  And how long does it take to stop the train?  Would it not be wise to stop as soon as you can?  Would it not be wise to slow down and consider?

“I do not have time for your nonsense!  I have babes to feed and clothe!  Away with you!  You distract me from my goal.”

What do you think the engineer would give to allow his prey to live?  What precious thing might he own that will dry up the wells of tears?  What repair can he make to put salve upon regret; that his ruptured heart may heal?  All the while you believe it will not come to you.