Tag Archives: Christianity

Warning From the Season

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Snow

Snow (Photo credit: Amir Nejad)

The trees are losing their leaves.  A sure sign that the snows and ice of winter are approaching.  Even so, men are aware of the coming danger in life.  You will either clothe yourself and prepare for what is coming, or you will suffer the consequences through sickness and death. 

This set of signs, in the fall of each year, have been a clear sign from the beginning of creation.  Every generation has seen them many times in their lives.  There is a “falling” happening all around us now.  Few see what is coming.  But those who know Jesus, the Christ of God, know this is appearing as a warning.

Clothe yourself in the sacrifice of Jesus.  Obey what God has set for us to observe in the way of holiness and service to the Most High God.  Prepare yourself through Bible reading, prayer, and proper worship of the Lord, or encounter the purity of what is coming with foreboding.

There is a clear and ever-present message which comes from the Lord’s people.  “Repent and accept the leadership of the Living God, or perish with the ungodly.”  Hiding your head in the sand of society’s unholy behavior will offer you no more protection than if you plan to encounter the coming winter with the clothing of summer.

I Stand by the Door

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door 212

door 212 (Photo credit: Aunt Owwee)

I Stand at the Door

An Apologia for my Life By Sam Shoemaker (from the Oxford Group)

I stand by the door. I neither go to far in, nor stay to far out. The door is the most important door in the world – It is the door through which men walk when they find God. There is no use my going way inside and staying there, When so many are still outside and they, as much as I, Crave to know where the door is. And all that so many ever find Is only the wall where the door ought to be. They creep along the wall like blind men, With outstretched, groping hands, Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door, Yet they never find it. So I stand by the door.

The most tremendous thing in the world Is for men to find that door – the door to God. The most important thing that any man can do Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands And put it on the latch – the latch that only clicks And opens to the man’s own touch.

Men die outside the door, as starving beggars die On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter. Die for want of what is within their grasp. They live on the other side of it – live because they have not found it.

Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it, And open it, and walk in, and find Him. So I stand by the door.

Go in great saints; go all the way in – Go way down into the cavernous cellars, And way up into the spacious attics. It is a vast, roomy house, this house where God is. Go into the deepest of hidden casements, Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood. Some must inhabit those inner rooms And know the depths and heights of God, And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is. Sometimes I take a deeper look in. Sometimes venture in a little farther, But my place seems closer to the opening. So I stand by the door.

There is another reason why I stand there. Some people get part way in and become afraid Lest God and the zeal of His house devour them; For God is so very great and asks all of us. And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia And want to get out. ‘Let me out!’ they cry. And the people way inside only terrify them more. Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled. For the old life, they have seen too much: One taste of God and nothing but God will do any more. Somebody must be watching for the frightened Who seek to sneak out just where they came in, To tell them how much better it is inside. The people too far in do not see how near these are To leaving – preoccupied with the wonder of it all. Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door But would like to run away. So for them too, I stand by the door.

I admire the people who go way in. But I wish they would not forget how it was Before they got in. Then they would be able to help The people who have not yet even found the door. Or the people who want to run away again from God. You can go in too deeply and stay in too long And forget the people outside the door. As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place, Near enough to God to hear Him and know He is there, But not so far from men as not to hear them, And remember they are there too.

Where? Outside the door – Thousands of them. Millions of them. But – more important for me – One of them, two of them, ten of them. Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch. So I shall stand by the door and wait For those who seek it.

‘I had rather be a door-keeper So I stand by the door.

http://www.silkworth.net/aa/istandatthedoor.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NuYczvp-Kzo

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Grace for Fools

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English: Hay meadow near Dolanog Freshly mowed...

English: Hay meadow near Dolanog Freshly mowed hay meadow seen in early evening light, seen from the B4382. Dolwar Hall farm SJ0714 can be seen in the middle distance. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the country side I walked; timid through the night, but stronger in the dawn.

No fear at horror’s sounds; screeching through the air, or growling in the grass.

Bolder steps turned to confident strides; a willingness to leap within these tired bones.

Then a city appeared over the crest of a hill.

 

Through its gates I walked; upright back and confidence from the respite from war.

No one checked for weapons; that invisible proof of salvation hidden in my heart.

How should they suspect or investigate; no one here carries the mark I bear.

Past all stores and temptations I moved.

 

Then, from nowhere, a stabbing; my back was turned and I did not perceive attack.

My weakness exposed; vulnerable was I and did not prepare, distracted by the wares.

Sinking deep the wound was great; a sin appeared and the blood of man soaked my cloak.

I staggered through the alley.

 

Knowing nothing but the Gospel; my knees pounded the dust with sudden thrust.

A crying out to the One Who Is; a healing balm, nursing hands.

Even while the blood still flowed; legs found strength, beginning to run.

The exit gate in view came quickly.

 

Fools will step with careless stride;  the way of simple man open to attack.

Less is the weakness than the power of hope; that marvelous Grace He wields so well.

The night’s embrace outside the gate; humiliation abounds while healing starts.

I stagger through the field once again.

 

By His Grace!

Do Not Fear Fear

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English: Fear God... Religious text on a metal...

My days have no divider.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow all meld into one.

Pining for what was pleasant is the consuming desire of each moment.

Hope remains, but it is obscured by daily tasks.

Sleep is deep and sweet.

But the day evaporates into obscurity.

Does this indicate that His promise has been breached?

Has my sin caught His Holy eye so that His lovely eyes no longer look upon me?

Did not those who “would never enter His rest” live out the rest of days before His promise came through death?

We are but to believe and be saved.

Yet it is He who provokes that saving belief.

What shall be said when a man finds troubles yet sleeps soundly as one forgiven?

Guilt is not present.

Though fear of repeat is like a cloud of rain on a cold day while I stand naked in the open field.

What was said?

Can you recall?

“But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after the killing of the
body, has power to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him.”  (Luke 12:5)

I do not fear the present turmoil deep within my soul.

It is the slighting of Jesus’ Royalty that captures my attention.

And isn’t this as it should be?