Tag Archives: fear

Prayer Against Fear

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Mighty and Righteous Holy Lord, You who lives forever by the Righteous Judgement of the Sovereign God.  You are trustworthy and true.  No doubt is born of you!  But by Holy union, you cause us to believe.

There is no fear that shall overtake us, if we will but lay down our pride and accept your glorious gift of life.  The Holy Father himself has declared this to be true. 

Therefore we surrender as we find ourselves able.  We have called our fear humility, and we are in error.   Open our eyes that we may see and believe.

We beg you for strength, simply to believe.  We are weak in our way, please accept our apology.  But grant us wisdom to understand!

For you cannot lie and you have sealed your promise in the Holy Blood of your Holy and faithful Son.  Though our weakness is blatant, we beg you for mercy.  For we have not understood as we should.

Cause growth to our faith!  Let us rise up and believe.  Let us defend your Holy Name, in this place of testing; this by our firm trust and patient doing. 

You have displayed your intent in the greatest of possible love.  Therefore give us the gift of faith.  Do not allow your people to rest in the faith of man.  Rather transform us into The Holy Faith of your Holy Way.

Then you will have what is rightfully yours; a people separated from the wickedness of this rebellion against your Holy Law.

All day long and even into the night, temptation assails, and in our weakness we are tossed about.  Send understanding O’ Sovereign One! 

You lack by our weakness toward fear.  We are bent toward fear as the trees along the ocean are bent by the constant wind.  Holy One, this should not be!

Come among us and give us strength to serve, that your bounty may be evident before your Holy Throne!  Come and  cause to be, what is rightfully yours.

By the Holy Name of your Holy Christ, the perfect and faithful One, grant that we should rise and believe.

Again…….

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Why did you leave in such a great hurry?

It was not that your work called your name.

For once in the door, to your coffee you scurried.

A sigh left your lips without shame.

Did good conscience allow you to taste the small sips?

Did you listen to conscience at all?

While in haste you retreated from my threatening lips,

Your darkness still covers your pall.

Opportunity came and was wasted again.

You had not the strength to ask.

The hope that releases the severest of pain,

Is forsaken for some trivial task.

This Day, the Trembling Rabbit

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This day has never been.  And wicked men wake with fear.  Yesterday is now a testimony both for and against all men who lived it.  It is written in stone; unmovable and sure.

As men slept. their testimony of yesterday was rolled up as a scroll.  It was set in a place unreachable by the desire and hands of men.  It was set among the scrolls of all their yesterdays.  And the living God, himself alone. knows the place.

Men may remember small elements of yesterday.  But they are powerless to affect the testimony, either for good or for bad.  What remains in the hand of men is either regret or joy.

Left alone, regret is quickly covered up.  Perhaps a man drinks himself to oblivion to forget.  Perhaps he dresses his mind with the things he has learned to enjoy.  He says,  “I will cover my regret.  It is too much for me to bear.”

But regret is like a hungry wolf who walks beside you in the woods.  You hear the leaves rustle, just beyond your ability to see through the brush.  The snap of a tiny twig.  The brush of a branch against heavy fir.  The sound of heavy breathing as desire looks your way.  And if you could hear it, your ears would hear a drop of salivation strike the ground beneath his gaping mouth.  So it is with your regret which you hurry to mask as you wake from sleep.

If this is the case of yesterday, what will be today.  You will sleep tonight.  Will the morning see you scramble to cover today’s crop of regret?  Will you spend tomorrow trembling as you walk its path?

WHY?  Why do you live this way?  Why do you allow all your days to hunt you in the darkness?  Is it that you don’t know how to be released?  Is it that you have so well learned wickedness that you think it is normal?  Have you even come to the point where you attribute your own wicked ways to the living God and His holy son?  Do you say with confidence, “There is no way out!”

By this testimony you have no joy!  It is ripped away from the reach of your hand.  And you have ripped it away of your own volition.

How pathetic that men cover their regret with such trivial joy.  How sad that men should even know the word eternity.  How horrible the men should speak the word “joy”.

Black and dark are your days.  Hunted like some terror filled rabbit, you spend your day in useless trivia.  Ignoring the wolf does not quench his hunger for your blood.

Would you be free of this hideous cycle of hopeless behavior?  Or have you come to love the thrill of death?  Do you take joy in your useless life?

Have you heard of the gospel of Christ Jesus, the Holy Son of the living God?  I tell you a truth.  He can release you from your days as a victim of regret.  But the choice remains yours.

You may read the Bible.  You may listen to sermons.  You may witness people who live free of regret.  You may ask them and receive their answer.  But if you would join them you must do the things of God.

It is not enough to hear.  A blade of grass may shiver in its place from the sound waves of truth that shake its form.  Never the less, it is cut down by the gardener.  So it is with those who hear and do not do.

What is the urgency in your heart to be free of this cycle of death?  Go!  Go visit the holy and living words that can transform your very soul.  Force your blind eyes to read.  Then ask the living God for release.  And continue for the rest of your days doing these things.  This is the life that will bring you freedom.

Do you think he does not love you?  Is not this thought a product of your own wicked and unloving heart?  If God did not love you, would he have sent His Son to be murdered in your place?  Why would the Holy living God do such a foolish and wicked thing?

Release is!  The transformation from pathetic  rabbit to a godly joyous man is real!  Do not let your eyes look at others.  Many will testify that they have looked and found nothing.  How then can this man write these words?  Pay no attention to them.  They lie from the wickedness that is stored up in their own heart.

Regret comes to you because there are words describing joy.  People are clean and are free and you have seen them.  What will you give to join them?

If, Then

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* If we have received the love of God in Christ Jesus. 

* If there is the slightest hope that we will live eternally in the presence of God. 

* If there is a transformation within us after we have accepted the promise of the gospel. 

* If there is a fear of the holiness of God within us.

* If the love of God provokes us to give thanks.

* If we have enjoyed the fellowship of the body of Christ. 

* If we have read any portion of the Bible and understand it fluently.

Then is it proper to let fear keep us from sharing with those who do not have these things?

Occupation

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The Apostle Paul made tents.  The Apostle Peter was a fisherman.  There are not many of God’s people who inhabit glorious occupations.  And those who do are often assailed with temptation and corruption.  They are humble occupations which often provide for humble men.  For it is God’s will that his people become servants.

All day long people are irritated at big trucks.  They occupy their space with formidable threat. The trucks obscure one’s vision.  They always seem to be in the way.  You know sooner navigate around one truck and there appears another.  They are slow.  They are fearsome in their size.  When it rains they spew bath tubs of water on your windshield.  And when they blow a tire it seems all hell breaks loose.  Why would anyone not be frustrated by big trucks?

One would think that big trucks are an unholy aberration; frustration sent among men from the very bowels of hell.  In a large part men have no idea how correct that is.  In the beginning it was not God’s will that’s such things should be.

But do not judge the driver by the frustration he leaves in his wake.  And do not judge him when you see him dismount from his Stallion of Steel.  He is shabby in appearance; not at all the mountainous and evil man you presumed.  He is an emblem of surprise; that such a man should cause such havoc in your life.

All the while you are frustrated and on the verge of anger, you envision some hideous monster behind the wheel.  Surely he is full of hatred.  Surely he has no kin.  His mother was a rock in the forest.  And his father was but a needle pine.  He is a troll among men; a demon filled and pitiful excuse for a man.  No decent man would cause such pain.

I am a truck driver.  I take note of your fear and anxiety all day long.  I see that you are impatient.  I see that in your impatience you have no regard for law.  For you push with all your might just beyond what is lawful; that you may vanquish this enemy of rubber and steel.

But mercy attends my hands.  The Son of God sings beautiful things to my soul all day long. I spend my hours with no radio playing.  No one to speak wicked things to me.  And my days end as did the days of the Apostles’; in prayer of praise and thanks to the one who has delivered me from incident or injury to others.

I know you cannot help the way you feel.  Life demands a great deal.  But the next time you are navigating around a truck, consider that one of them contains the Holy Word of God.

The island

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In the pitch like darkness of the deep ocean a rumbling of silt and sand occurred.  The slime of refuse gave way to molten rock.  Without approval, a mountain began to grow in the darkness.

The place had been desolate and quiet.  Though it had been a place of gathering for refuse, peacefulness and quiet had attended upon it. But now violence erupted where once there was nothing but filth.  The lord was pleased to cause a new place to grow.  And in his pleasure he spoke growth and life.

Lava forced upward the plate of rock that had once been the bottom of the ocean.  Months of great pressure and violence pushed the plate of rock toward the top of the sea.  Light began to touch the surface of the rock and it cringed at the new world it was being forced to inhabit.  Convulsions shook the plate and the edges curled around its new support.  “I am to perish!  Surely I am dying!”

“What are you doing Oh Lord Great God?  Did I not serve you well in the place where I was?  What is my sin that you should rip me from my rest?”  But the plate heard no reply.

Soon the sound of waves crashing at the edge stirred the plate into near panic.  How deeply it desired to return to its former place.  “This is no place of peace!  It is a place of torture!  What have I done to deserve this horrific uprooting?  Was I not content and faithful to support what the world no longer needed?”  Again, there was no sound from the Living God.  Only the frightening roar of water at the shore.  The tumult threatened to rip the rock apart.

In the years of a rock, very little time passed before the silt upon it top begin to produce.  Shrubs and rough grass filtered in to begin the final transformation.  Seeds had appeared by virtue of the birds who came to visit.  All the while the little island was frightened to see his surface so abused.

As the Island got use to its new place it began to see the beauty of the violence.  The Sun would rise and set, warming the rock in a new place called day.  The moon would bathe him in glorious shimmers; not at all like the darkness he had known.  And the sound of the waves often put him into peaceful sleep.  The wind of God shaped him into smooth and various form.  And the storms which came and went were a wonderous delight of activity.

One day, still a great mystery to the island, an animal set foot on his soil.  With great interest he watched this one.  It was not at all like the others who had come to visit.  Nor was it like those who had been a part of his previous world.  For the first time since his peaceful slumber of filth, the island felt pure joy.

“I like this one Lord.”  The island was heard to say.  “He tickles and scratches at my surface.  And now I am pleased for what you have done.  The pain and memory is receding and now there is joy.”

Centuries passed, and the island was a happy place of thriving life for a multitude of creatures.  What he had been before, he no longer desired to remember.  Joy filled his days and his new place produced great fruit for the Sovereign God who had caused him to be.

“Give thanks to the Lord and be faithful for He is good.  His mercy endures forever!  Be faithful and joy filled.  Give thanks and praise to God.”   The island had come to sing a new song.  “Do not be discouraged at the tumult which now attends your days.  For soon you will be thankful for the violent uprooting.”

By His Grace