Warning From the Season


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.

He Did Not Ask


Pool of Siloam

Pool of Siloam (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He did not ask.  The question never crossed his mind.   He had never seen red, let alone to consider the subtle difference between red and orange.  Dirt had no color at all.  And, beyond the reach of his fingers, the world was filled with utterly ghostly challenges.  Textured blackness was all he knew.  Noise and smell were the only possible warnings before something unknown drew near.  Living in the night with no light to guide his feet, who had testified the impossible possible?

He did not ask.  He was simply the subject of debate between the Lord Jesus and His disciples.  “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”  How could the man know he had been born blind so that this conversation would find a suitable object for a lesson?

He did not ask.  Why those things had happened that morning; those things which brought him to that square foot of ground at just that moment?  There was no need to question anything.  But something was about to change forever.

He did not ask.  Yet someone plastered mud on the man’s eyes!  Of all the humiliating things he has endured.  Now he was the object of an art class.  Had he known he was to become a model this morning he might have presented a bit of persona different.

He did not ask.  But he was told to go wash in the pool of Siloam.  “So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.”

He did not ask for the reaction from his parents, or the subsequent verbal thrashing from the Jews.  He did not ask to be able to see their faces, nor to be quantified a liar.  And he did not ask that he should be thrown out of the temple that day.

He did not ask to be able to walk by himself in places before forbidden.  But now he did.  I wonder if he struggled to stay awake that night; afraid to close his eyes and see nothing but darkness again.  But surely sleep came, just as it had every night before.

He did not ask.  But the morning brought confirmation to a dream he had last night.  Eyelids flung open as soon as the mind brought him from dreams.  Breath filled his lungs with explosive inhale.  And this without his will.  “It was not a dream!”

He did not ask for time.  Who asks for time to come?  Most of us simply endure the next moment.  Time, however, had a different effect on this man than it does for most.  From that day and for years to come, that man lived in colors, shapes, textures seen, and faces recorded.  But the days and years ticked by without restraint.  I do not think that man ever regarded his eyes as people do who have always seen.  Even as old age came to take away what he did not ask for, there was the beauty of fuzzy objects to enjoy.  In the end death took away the gift.  But what need had he of those amazing little marbles then?

He did not ask.  He had no idea of what was coming.  Brilliance surrounds him now.  Colors, living colors dance through perfect eyes.  He did not ask through all those remaining years.  For who could know what he was about to see, even as death came to take back the colors and shapes.

He did not ask to be an object lesson.  For eternity, however, he will be an object lesson of the majesty of the God who caused him to be born blind.  And we should not doubt that he will enjoy his status in this regard.  What remains within Promise is more lovely than the colors and shapes this man saw without asking.

We did not ask.  For we did not know we were in need.  Wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked we are.  Who has known to ask when there was no question?  “Here I am!  I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.”

We did not ask.  But we were born in our own circumstances.  Who asks for mud?  Who craves to be “sent”?   Who has come away from Siloam healed for the Glory of God the Father?  I remember one more time when 10 were sent.  Only one re-appeared to praise God.  And I ask, “Who am I?”

I did not ask.  I did not dare approach, even in prayer.  Just when I thought I would die that Death, He came to deliver me.  And these words, all together in this place of testimony, praise the One who set me free.  This story has testified, there is a freedom yet to come which I cannot ask for.  How can I know what to ask that He hasn’t already prepared beyond my knowledge?  He will forever be first.  And we will forever be those who receive with praise, dedication and thanks.

Billions have not thought to ask.  Yet they received God’s generous gift of eternal life.  Do you dare hope for something you have never thought to ask?  Here you are reading these words.  Do you dare ask for what you do not know?  “Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!  Amen.”  Isn’t that what is written?

No one asked.  But He has prepared this place of testing for His own Glory.  “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.”   Have you ever thought that the entire world was created for the sake of judgment?  What judgment could provoke all of creation?  Think about it.  And He does not ask too much of us.  For at His return, His reward is in His hand.

“No eye has seen,

No ear has heard,

No mind has conceived

What God has prepared for

Those who love Him”

We did not ask, but:  “God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.’”  “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good.”  He has answered even before we were created!

Glory to the One who lives forever!

I Stand by the Door


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

Of Heart and Mind


English: Anatomy of the Tony Walsh, in English...

English: Anatomy of the Tony Walsh, in English, by Ties van Brussel / http://www.tiesworks.nl (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You are God and all Your Holy ways are perfect!  I see You beyond the pages of Your Holy book.  I can point to You for the sake of man.  But the difference between the mind and heart strikes me hard.

“. . . all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”  What is love among men?  I love you!  But “The heart is deceitful above all things  and beyond cure.  Who can understand it?”  What is love among the members of my body?

You asked Your servant Peter, “Do you love me?”  He was cut to the heart to realize that love was not complete within his heart.  How am I any different?

“If You can.” The man said to You.  And Your reply was indignant, as You have a right to be at un-belief.  I do not say to You, “If You can.”  I ask You to DO IT.  If You must cut me in half so that my mind comes near my heart, then DO IT!

What is the love of man for the Beauty that is Jesus, the Son of the Most High God?  The love of man for his God appears in the form of DOING IT.  “And He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, “So, you men could not keep watch with Me for one hour?” 

My God.  My God!  Tear this lack of love from the very heart of me!  Rend me apart and seek that place of restraint.  I beg You to open the door and let me walk through.  I do not ask You this for the sake of my salvation.  I ask You to do this because You deserve the right to receive praise and adoration from the people You have gained the right to own.

I hate my mind.  I am jealous of its bounty.  It holds what is true and keeps it from my heart.  Or is it, perhaps, this way:  I hate my heart!  For it has little interest in the fire the mind offers.  God in Heaven, have mercy on this fool that I might understand with the heart as well as the mind.

By His Grace.

Run World Run!


Maritime Museum

Maritime Museum (Photo credit: Andwar)

Run, oh world, run!  Chase after all that perishes.  Strive to repair what is falling apart with the strength of your own hand.  The dust still parts from solid columns once standing strong.   Look at your palm as you lovingly caress them as you pass.   Grey dust glitters in the evening light.

To the mind of flesh it is a simple matter of attention.  “It was taken for granted, this beautiful place we have built.  All we need do is change who leads us in this place where we have intended to live.”

Your children will speak the same thing in two generations.  What is gained if failure creeps along like a shadow from the works of man?  What has the flesh of man accomplished?  Is this eternal behavior?  Aren’t we thankful that God does not approach purity as do we?  What is needed is not a repair; as if our tiny raft has sprung a leak.

The ages past and those to come will be tested with the same calamity.  No strength of man will save him from death.  Run, oh world run!  Run from the works of your hand to a dark secluded place where your knees become feet.

The brightness of the Living God is your hope.  That brilliant purity in Jesus is the only hope we are extended.  Let the dust appear.  Give it no heed as you seek what lasts forever.  Forsake the works of your hands.  Let all things man return to dust!

Grace for Fools


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!