Category Archives: Praise

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God The Father. Jesus His Righteous Son.  

Faithful, glorious, beautiful, Good, first, last, and every good word.  


Nothing, nothing matters more.  


Those who speak on his behalf are not to be admired. They have done nothing more than is right to expect from every man.  


He moves. And who sees Him do his doings? He sustains His own Holy Name. He causes the dead to praise Him. He causes the unrighteous to love Him. He causes rotted trees to rise and walk.    


He brings Life to be as He desires, and no one gives Him counsel in His Holy work. The dead cannot perceive the life around them.  


None, of this world’s rabble will love His people, whom Himself has raised up. As they hate the Lord’s commands, so they will despise His work among them.  


Let such things be. It has been so from the beginning, it is so now, it will even be so when God gathers all souls together in the valley of judgment. As a man is, so he is sealed at death. So be it.  


Popularity belongs to God alone, but see how Man usurps God’s right to judge importance and honor.   


Love belongs to God alone. See how twisted, dishonorable, and wicked is the tongue of Man to associate every wicked lust with Love.  


Righteousness belongs to God alone. See them praise the work of slaves as if they should rule nations by their charitable deeds. They did their master’s bidding with the wealth of their master. Even their very lives belong to someone else. Why praise a flea for leaving your body?


May your Holy will be done forever, O Blessed and Faithful One! Even the shadows honor You by their rebellious ways.  


By His Grace in Christ Jesus.  

Amen.  

Do you hear what I hear?

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“When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart.”

Do you hear what I hear?


“A child, a child, 

shivers in the cold 

let us bring him 

Silver and gold.”


What good is our profit 

When the cross is in sight;


When he strained so hard 

That glorious night?


Let his body be covered 

With bleeding sweat.  


Father’s will to be done!

And yet.


The pageantry of Christmas.  

Some shiny toy, a new dress.  


Does this keep warm 

The Word of God?


Does this help the message

Be cast abroad?


Or is it something deep within;

Someplace that’s hidden

From our sin.  


_______


Do you hear what I hear,

Whispered in the streets?


The silver and gold 

He desires so

Cannot be carried 

By feet.  

________


Believe! Believe!

Deep down in your soul.  


Let the seed of Word

Have a place.  


“Come in, come in.  

Come out of the cold.  


Let me taste 

The meaning of gold.”

The Difference

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The one who loves 
God’s Holy Son, 

Receives 

The glaring 

Difference.  


Accused without,

Accused within,

Accused by doubt,

His strength is in

A Heaven borne  Surety:

The Hope from Him.  


AMEN!


No longer is he dressed 

As those 

From whom he came, 

As is supposed.  


But now his heart sees better things;

A Raging land where Truth is King.  

A land where lies are not allowed.  

Where all old ways are disavowed.  


A Jealous hand has dressed him so. 

Sealed strong with promise, 

“I’ll not let you go”.


And so,


The echo sounds within his soul.  

As better things he’s seen.  

Yet through his loving urging,

He’s only seen as mean.  


As one step leads 

To the next one planted,

From love to love 

His heart is challenged.  


To speak?  

He must. 

To do?

He’s thrust.  

By virtue of 

Grand Love Within.  

No opposition’s 

Strong enough,

To lightly challenge Him!  


“Forgive them,

For they do not know

The damage that they do.  

Though all day long

We sing Your song.  

It’s not us they hate. 

It’s You.”



The Road

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The materials we use to build a road are worthless, and we consider them worthless. Except for the expense of labor and machinery, there is no value in asphalt. It’s just a mixture of tar and rock.  

But come with me in your mind. Look at the streets of heaven. God is the living God. And in his kingdom there is no worthlessness. Everything is of him. Even his streets.  I surmise that everything in heaven is living.  And that there is no such thing as worthlessness.  


What do we know about such a place as this? We travel all the roads without a single thought to the surface we are riding on. We throw trash out the window not the slightest concerned that we are making the road filthy. And every inch we travel is forgotten before we get to it.  


Let me make a leap in thought. If this is the condition of difference between our world and the kingdom of heaven, what do we know about God’s righteousness? If we can’t even conceive the nature of God’s streets, how can we hope to understand the nature of his glorious sacrifice?


Like our roads, we know about Jesus. But isn’t it true that before we experience one moment of his glory, it is forgotten in the chaos of the day?


If we try to think on these things to deeply our brain just gives up. The best we can do is give him the best place of honor in everything that we are.  


I’m not going to go into the contrast between how the world treats Jesus and how we should treat Jesus. But I sense how radically astounding the difference is.  

Compulaion

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I am an ox in an open field. The yoke upon my neck is made from things I have never seen.  

It was placed there in the night without my consent or desire.  

I am compelled by joy to pull.  


The smell of success is in the air.  

It is the harvest soon to come.  

It is the smell of grass and trees.  

It is the dirt beneath my hooves.  

So I pull with joyous vigor!


The strength of my bones is beyond words to say.  

It is more than an Ox should have.  

For there is no whip to urge me on.  

There is no carrot before my face.  

It is the sound of his voice that drives me forward.  


Lovely,

Soft,

Tender,

More sure of his way than the hardest of steel.  

“Pull”,

He whispers. 

AND PULL I WILL!

The Plead is Challenged 

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Desire lay soft upon the sea.  
Desiring life for you and me.  

Joy abundant thrashes about;

Celebrating what’s come to be.  


The joy dispels as the predators come.  

Each back to his business,

To where he is from.  


Still Desire continues unpraised.  


Praise to the fins.  

Praise to the gills.  

Praise to the waves,

Which for now run still.  


Desire desires to hold and protect.  

But hark to the fishes,

“We consider guile best”.  


Down to the bottom,

Scattered about,

Perplexed, disassembled,

They answer the shout.  


The whisper forgotten.  

Their joy turned to gloom.  

“Better living with trouble 

Than to turn to the groom.”