The Twilight


​Two things matter.  But each in its proper place.  The things of Heaven and the things of this world.


We struggle through the day.  (Think me now, about both.)  There is the daylight of this world and there is the daylight of Heaven.  Each Place demanding and delivery what is useful to its own.


The articles of each place have their proper usefulness in the life of a man.  Though each is distinctly, radically, and eternally different.


So easy it is to allow our eyes to see the grass and nothing more.  But when your eyes have seen the things of Heaven, the things of grass fade to oblivion.  You endure them out of necessity, but your yearning is somewhere else.


The things of this world are nothing but shadows; tempting, beckoning, distracting, drowning.  But the things of Heaven release into perfect freedom.  The one who lives by the eyes of this world is a slave to a cruel master.  But the one who sees with the eyes of Heaven is set free to really live, by the One who lives forever.  Everything the world gives you, it also takes away.  Not so with the things of Heaven.


What I’ve said here is absolutely true.  Have you been to the place of divide?  There is a place a person can stand, the twilight between the two.  God can show you where that is.  And once you have stood there to witness the difference between night and day, sleep and waking, understanding and ignorance, permanent and passing, you will never be the same again.  You will become “A Believer”.


The majority of people never leave this darkened place of transient shadows.  At best, most people turn to religion and consider this as satisfactory.  The majority of people don’t even know there is a place of twilight reality.  That’s why so many are consumed with the passing glimmer of hopeless bobbles and trinkets.  (Do not be deceived, science is a religion.  It is the pinnacle of satan’s achievements.)


I can’t tell you how to get there.  Somehow God transports us in our soul.  But I can tell you, humbling yourself before God in prayer is a good place to begin.  And I can tell you the journey is not easy or quick.  But it is worth every moment of your time.  And when you are there, the difference between lies and truth is as obvious as noon and midnight.


The place I’m speaking of is real.  And there are many variations people offer, calling it the same thing I’m describing.  But understand this: the place of twilight between this world and Heaven can only be inhabited by those who call on the Living God by the name of his Holy and Righteous Son Jesus.  And no one will ever stand there unless God himself allows it.


There is a righteousness of this world, and there is a righteousness of Heaven.  Seek out the place that lays in between.  Then you will know the difference.


You will not believe or understand what I have said here unless the Lord opens your eyes to SEE.

Storm


I sat in a darkened corner of the bar.  All alone and stupefied by the things I’ve seen.  Nursing my fourth drink, my mind was nearing numbness.   Ah, that familiar and welcome place.

My eyes were obliviously staring toward the front door.  The door opened and the shadow of a ragged man filled its frame.  “Ah, something to watch”, I thought to myself.

He walked straight to my table, and just stood there.  It takes a little longer for a fuzzy brain to process information.  Eventually I stop staring.  The blurry figure took focus.  Since he appeared to be in no hurry, and nowhere to go, I let a moment pass before I offered him a chair.  With lazy movements he sat down.  So the tone was set, an easy-going lazy, easy conversation.

He put his arms on the table, not taking his eyes from mine.  With an Indescribably steady voice he said, “What are you doing here”.  I told him I was drinking to numb the pain of life.

“Do you know why it hurts?”  Kind of a curious question.  It made me reach a little deeper than the surface.  I told him no.  “I really don’t have the slightest clue.”  But he didn’t offer anything more.  No answers, no reflections, no Nothin.  So we sat there in silence for a few minutes.

I was the one to break the silence.  “It’s like I live in a hurricane.  Everything I do, everything I am, everything I say, gets blown away and tore to pieces.  And I can’t seem to find shelter.  So I come in here to numb the pain of being tossed against the wall.”

He looked down thoughtfully.  It didn’t look like he had anything to say.  It seemed he was just waiting for my mind to listen to his words.  Like getting used to silence just before the Big Bang.  He started speaking before his eyes began to rise.

“Life is a storm from birth to death.  Most people prefer the depths of a cave.  But there are some who dare to wander about.  These are better fed.  These are far stronger and more able.  Frankly, these are more useful.”

He had set the tone so, again, I followed what he did.  I lowered my head and watched the top of the table stay still.  I thought about what he said.  I thought about how odd it was that he opened the door and came to my table to say these things.  I thought about the storm of my life.  Then I thought about my weakness; how he came to me in my cave.

“If this is the storm that comes into my cave to batter me against the wall, what is it like outside?”  I was sincerely curious about these strong people.

He didn’t pause this time.  “Outside is death.  What is it like inside?”  It seems like my answer came from somebody I didn’t know.  But I was sure it was my own lips that said this, “It’s useless, it’s mundane, it’s tedious, it’s insane.  In short and in truth, it’s a slow painful death.  But somehow it seems equitable, to be distant from the rest.”  (A poem?  Really!)

Now the conversation took a bit of a faster pace.  Without the slightest hesitation he shot back, “Do you want to work?”  I really don’t know how, but I understood what he meant.  My stomach convulsed and made me say, “Yes”.  (Alright, I thought, we’re having a conversation, and I’m really weirdly involved.)  “Then go outside and die with me.”

I know my eyes got wide.  I could feel it in my soul.  Could this man be the answer?  There wasn’t a shred of apology in his voice.

“No one has ever stayed with me.  How do I know you won’t take me outside and abandoned me in a worse place than this?”  His reply shut my mouth.  “Because I said so, and I cannot lie.”

Why should I believe him?  But look how strong my want-to is.  I looked down and thought again.  What’s the difference?  Die in here or die out there, what’s the difference?  Then I knew what to say.  Then I knew what to do.  I didn’t say anything.  I simply got up and put my coat on.  Within a few moments we were silhouetted against those in the cave.  We left.

I’m writing this, aren’t I.  Yes I’m still alive.  I have weathered the most magnificent storm my mind could possibly imagine.  He has never left me.  He has guided every step I took.  He has healed my wounds.  He has taught me how to fight.  He has encouraged me to take risks that men in their caves don’t even know exist.  And there ain’t no way I’m going back!

By the way.  His name is Jesus.

Love -VS- Fear


Love has a name.  So does fear.  The first is referred to as Light.  The second is utter Darkness.  Where there is no light, the darkness muses like a toxic fume.  But even a lantern can dispel enough for a man to work.

Food for thought.

The Rocks Will Cry Out


I wake to consider the things of the Living God’s Holy Son.  No matter where I look among the things of God’s Holy wisdom, I find no fault.  Yet why should this amaze me?

To the things of man I look, and I find no righteous faithfulness.  And isn’t this the cause of my amazement?

Consistency abides in the Living God, toward life and all things good.  Consistency abides in the camp of Man’s horror, toward rebellion and all things wicked.

What has God done but we should despise him so?  What has Man accomplished that we should revere him in fear? 

How is it that the people who call themselves Christians suppress the beauty of the One who offers them life; those who give God praise in secret yet seal their mouth when they walk among the dead.

“I have riches”, they say.  The faithfulness of God in his promise is that sure, yes.  But don’t the rocks along the Way of Glory also have the blessing of God to lay unmolested?  There they are lay, prepared to do his will. And surely if the people had not given praise to the Living God’s Holy Son, the rocks themselves would have cried out the words.  Are we no better than rocks strewn along the path of life?  Are we like rocks which adorn a valley of death, fruitless and simply a nuisance ( dressings which mark the barren land).

“If God will touch us, we will serve him.  If God will drive back the wicked we will speak and walk among them.  If he will drive them back beyond a stone’s throw, we will proclaim the words of life.  As long as there is no threat we will be brave.  Yet if he will not cause the wicked to recede, we will continue to praise him in secret.  I will leave the fearsome work to those who desire to die.”  Is this what we say by our actions?  Will not God protect those the march ahead in faith?

But clean yourself.  Primp and prune your feathers.  Lining every hair in its proper place.  let every thread of clothing be presentable and immaculate.  Let your life be dressed with all the things that cause Man to nod in appreciation.  If you hide the Light of Christ,  you are no different than the rocks along the Way. 

_____

Is it too much to ask? 

Is it unjust to require us to join Jesus in his suffering?

Is the shame of righteousness too much to bear? 

Is the Cross of Christ too heavy to share? 

Then what can possibly be our lot? 

When we appear before He by whose Blood we are bought?

The Missing


image

I see,
In great clarity,
The missing of “The Mark”.

Exactly why,
I just can’t tell,
The “missing” is so stark.

Can others see?
Why hide from me?
Come greet me in the Dark.

Think it Through


Distraction:  a riddle, what does it mean?
____________________
Marvel at the beauty of shadows.

But stay you too far from the light.

And the shadows will overcome you.

They will strip you of all your might.

The soul is like a chameleon;

Dressed in black or brilliant colors.

Of the black ones there are billions.

While the number of brilliant is smaller