Avatars within me, some society would have me ingest or obey, vie for the control of this vessel, a vessel constructed solely for the purposes of God. Therefore, any voices, fractionated splinters from childhood, opinionated family, friends and those of psychological credential, although acknowledged and heard have no authority and overestimate their leverage in my service to my making.

All well and good, bidding you wonderful days please remain silent with regard to the chatter as the noise interrupts our waiting upon the Shepherd. I am accountable for my thoughts and of those of subsequent action and as such don’t really entertain the impact of your lack of control over this vessel. Please refer to the five stages of acceptance and know this that God will assist you in getting over it if and when you ask Him.

To those who would encourage, edify or provide their insight and talents as Brothers and Sisters and want the same respectful accord, please know that I stand ready for the Holy Spirit’s guidance in so doing. That having been said I don’t blame the enemy, my woman or my friends for my mistakes, especially for disobedience to God. I kneel in contrition for my offenses to Him and you asking forgiveness and restoration to good measure. Mine is not a world where scape goating serves anything good. Thus, since I alone have accountabilities for all that I have thought, said and done, then let me alone prepare and exceed to the consequential chastisement I know God will give me.

Let us walk with confidence and gravity into the crafts of our making. Fully aware of both origin, action and consequence within the paradigm of God’s requirement. I conquer and sympathize with the divine learning and opportunities granted you in this venture. It is time for the realistic boundaries to be set between individuals of faith and doubt that this ministry is my responsibility as is my growth. The direction for both and the catalyst, promptings and correction for both are God’s and mine in response to His direction. I cannot nor would I presume in arrogance or otherwise to tell you how you are supposed to listen to the Maker. However, in my choice I will do just that and listen intently for HIS Commanding voice even as whisper and disregard or silence all others believing themselves somehow falsely between me and the Voice of God Almighty. The veil is torn, resist the temptation to attempt submitting yourself as replacement. In Jesus Name.

Bright white shutters with light yellow shell and beige concrete fence foundation where a myriad of brilliant flowers dance to the rhythm of the late May breezes. Butterflies rumble while bees lazily collect pollen to enhance the quality of life through a batch of new golden honey. Chocolate labrador brothers slumber eagerly soaking up the shade of Spring grasses beneath the sycamore’s outstretched branches. It screams “peace” yet no human takes the moments seriously finding time to use time for the sake of not worrying about, time.

No snakes, just sandals and saddles and smells those things seeking to take over the neighborhood. Grills and the skills that foster the wafting beauty of burnt ends basted smoking arduously atop the mesquite offset. A dash and a pinch added to some pasta salad, with beans and greens galore, bringing to fore the quest to get our grub on. What daylight is left let it remain within the grasp of soothing sun. Already the brigands barter for the best spots, with spilling drinks and hip checks politely jockeying for the spot closest to the cooler. In all things life could not be better on this soothing day preparing for Summer’s arrival.

Sold into slavery and bought back by a price greater than the totality of man’s riches. Debt’s paid, not afraid, just happy to see that He Is obeyed as rest comes to heart heavy laden. Letting it be whatever it becomes, not workers or bums but family seeking the delight and comfort as all are welcomed and bid find something tasty from the buffet. Plates passed round and soft soul praise sparks joy across the deck and patio alike. Smiles and laughter make us forget that cares even entered our day, this day, the one that God has made for each of us.

Hair, nails and outfits kempt. As one Brother makes attempt to win the love of the maiden he has followed for what seems a century. Burning candles on the mantle of his serious heart stricken with the disease of love never stopping to count himself among the wounded. He trips over his great big feet and the tongue that seems two sizes too large for his mouth as he attempts to pay complement to our hostess. What a mess as his friends and family look on amazed, giggling in the knowledge that he is owned by the thing that he wants most to possess. All is not lost as someone eyes him with the same candor, seeking attentions that currently have never turned her direction.

This day abides, in delight of the abundance of life. Not eternal but moments so precious surpassing the wealth of our fellowship. And all hearts pause to thank the Lord for the blessing of family, peace and loving. As children arrive it is clear the need for parlor games and circus have come upon us. So, we make time to take time for the reason that precious time is upon us. Into this life we dive and dance for discussion, romance and God’s good pleasure of kinship. We are oddly made whole by the welcoming hugs and smiles of All God’s Creation.

Sighted in the wounded realms of fear where pain and purpose are co-conspirators. In Life, and cause we dwell too long, dreaming that someone else determines fate and length of song. For hope’s good work we look inside knowing that some things will escape our reason. In demolition’s quest we reconstruct the altars of our own volition and surrender.

This is not moral turpitude. We seek the space between the worlds, where we may play and have things matter in consequence. But unlike interpretation, steel leaves a mark having touched the skin with the inescapable fact. Scarring, lesion or dismembering especially in thought so little may be known without intention and action. We have always been products.

Into outcomes I investigate the source. Upon which set of calamities am I transfixed. What will the sovereign breath of stars awaken in this dying heart? Will there be freedom from allegiance, vow or promises made or kept? Alone upon ridge line feared, staring into the valley and abyss, precariously perched upon the realization of time’s requirement. With light and pitch we approach the dawn of random affect.

Holding him in stitches we masked the keys and symbols of our export. We gave and took but shan’t forsake the sound chimes in navigation. Up to the island we moor, seeking entry unannounced and egress without pursuit. Slipping free from sheath we loose the hounds of man’s startled heart. Panicked paddling and darkened surf we most fear the things we know were never seen.

What now my Lord? In patient breath I wait upon the signs of sound and searching. This is no brilliance of gifted glade, nor blades so sharp that even gravity fears incision. To lacerate the definition of life’s direction we cry out for healing, hope and fall upon the steps leading to the throne. Only to find ourselves alone with random voices pleading we fear and run or dance. For there is no council in false offering.

These are the days of wondrous repair. Erected in monumental to selves of passing. We are only limited by the freedom we accept, the air we breathe so freely. Discomfort. The lurch of passing from here to there and places never pictured in the reviewed brochure. Understanding most often located outside the closet of comforting emotion. Into dark things and imperfect thoughts, we sift knowing fully that the end will be unpleasant.

Relief and escape are located on the other side of easy. Yet fate would say that through difficulty the possible is born. Into the arms of adult fealty, we are injected into the hopeful realities of maturity and faith. Dedication to anything reveals the paths less ventured. Perfection in a quiet place where honing and shaping erected the polishing work of time.

Vantage. Overlooking the dream world where pain and presence collide to elucidate the road ahead. While in reflection the days of toil gone to yesteryear are used to pave the path forward. Where does change occur? How does time record our version, especially when perspectives disagree? Left to reminisce about things we thought would be guaranteed as future.

Climbed as high as the buttress allowed. Howling wind, masking the express attempt to find the right breathing. Pursuing change as salvation from the circumstance. Illustrious, forbidden, reclined and supine before the willful hand of this man’s resolve. Overtaken by snippets and sequence, repositioning to withstand collision on the gantry. Toes bent back in negative rise as white as the dawn remembered.

The son kissed my cheek in the morning light. Purpose. Harmony, chords working feverishly to repeat the masterpiece we were of told at premiere. Small violet diamonds. In sweeping measure, we doubted our reprieve, so we hid in silence praying for slumber. What came next was the real surprise. As eagles glide never giving way the true focus at the pinnacle of grand arc.

This sentence leads nowhere, revealing nothing, aiding no one’s health or recommittal. How may compensation be due when increase is absent? is the world improved by my verbal vomit or nonsensical revisitation of yesterday’s nightmare and today’s perpetual ponderance? How may I molest your consideration with peppermint folly, meant to linger daily making mockery of reason, sans recourse. Is there enough salve to mend my good conscience?

It worked. My short efforts to show you all of my worst qualities have somehow broken the spell of false adoration. I have rarely been the apple for anyone’s eye to capture in focus. Preferring the odd geometric fruits as pomegranate or pear, never dreaming of watermelon and leechee. I prefer to remain unknown in context and prism. Relegating myself to the least equipped for dancing, meal or praise. Finding perfect pose at the foot of understanding. Powerless by choice. Hopeful beyond the depths of the world.

The glorious anticipation of a life well lived walking hand in hand with God and those He has chosen in family. Looking forward is lovingly regarded with hope as opposed to the learning examples of past. Into this new stream, pond or village I commit every effort to the forwarding of God’s intention for all of us. There is no pure estimation only attempts, failures, capitulation or committal. All will be found in good furrow.

There are few that I would choose to ride beside but you are the best of all of them. Don’t get me wrong I will still insist you’ve added too much salt to the soup and taken way too long at the gantry. But for my part I never was that accepted at parties or ventures. They don’t call at all till the need arises or the burden is unbearable. Prefer those who are around when the ice is sound footing or its thawed counterpart requires invested paddle and double down.

I am not the lord of all glory not even a reasonable stand in. These proclamations are not the dynamic monarchical mandates of some established bloodline for posterity. They instead are the general ramblings of a man sufficiently outside his time and way beyond his means representing powers way beyond him. To be an ambassador does not make one king, only his herald for consideration. This established, we must expect that I will from time to time, even when attempting the opposite dance firmly upon all of your toes and stare in your eyes apologetically while so doing.

In my greatest moments of calamity I will still stop to find out how you are doing and if I may remove the bricks from your pack. As you’ve so eloquently declared I am no great account of displeasure. But in the moments of pleasant regard I will fondly whisper your best qualities and tell all the world of your wonder. I am no measure of grace’s achievement only a tall teller of tales about walks far greater than my own. When fighting remember your back side is being watched by your lesser not greater. And when the porch swing canters it will be moving from the swivel of my keester.

Phased by theatrics. Morphing uncalculated. Standing on the achievements of embarrassment and hope. By what measure is my unpopular thinking the outcome of solid discussion, especially with superior? Has the calculus I’ve derived replaced good old-fashioned contemplation. Alliances ought be built freely not born of smoke plumes or lost ridges. Figuring and estimation although similar are unwed disciplines.

To this day I give my regard. Seeking no dominance or reward, I retreat to nowhere, because that is all that I own. In demonstration or folly standing may be lost when contemplating how to capture the keys to any city. Upon reliance the true standing of character is determined. Wax and polish may cover up blemishes, but scratched paint is not simply an issue of detail. Below the surface lurk to tidings of giants and the shame that bore Rome to irrelevance. Rust happens whether you were looking or unattentive.

Morays and forays, all things take a tussle to muster. Showing up for hostage return is akin to testimony. Waylaid by the foremade, anticipating the drawing board inconclusive. That staircase returns to this escalator which takes that elevator to unlisted floors on the schematic. In devious reply I asked for the maker’s deposit. Only after careful review was my name even mentioned once when reading the roster. All foster for evidence must be exchanged for reason at back forty.

Which painting will you offer at auction? What thoughts are justified by conclusion? What analysis bears loose the gravel of deepened understanding? Into which pond would you dive intending moments upon bottom? To what state do we relate when we relegate ourselves to a particular date? At whose prom was I expected so early? Into the night I bought passage across the pond everlasting to rule in the dawn of good candidates. At the farm we grow things often dark and dangerous but most frequently eternal.

As I pondered, I watched, and the sight of all things brought me favor. There were no Herculean efforts only meager attempts at good standing, but my footing was improperly intended. The sliding confiding in unexpected friends the fears and follies in my aspiration. To find adequate divorce we use remorse, guilt or argument. Deploying confidantes our shadow was challenged at each entry. To find relief we sold all but the dog of our findings.

Frontiers depth is only marked twain in the crossing. Our rivers never lead to the sea but find depth and pooling in the valley of our regret. Unto good posture all means and muscle must be dedicated. In reaching new heights old breathing must be surrendered. As I found the hand holds the footing departed. A river runs dry at its source and full of fury when the power depends upon its choices. Into my mind’s eye I plunged the sharp stick of my idiocy. There were no new agers in attendance to remember.

When I tell you that I love you what have I created, furthered, promised or manipulated? We would inherently assume that hearing from a pastor that he loves everyone would be received with understanding, edification and clarity. However, each person has their own perspective, and many possess filters, some unhealthy wounds through which this adherence to God’s Principles of loving Christ’s Body is somehow misinterpreted or redirected to fulfill some internal drive, yearning or expectation of romantic proportions. God told me to love everyone, He didn’t tell me to say it to people so that their emotional requirement to hear that fulfills some unmet need for validation or romantic pursuance.

I am speaking to those many out there who do not understand the purity of Christ’s Love for you. He died that you may be set free from an enemy over which you had no control but the gift of Grace God has offered to all men. We are not vulnerable to attacks of this enemy having invited the Holy Spirit to reside in our hearts. This love is beyond anything that I can even imagine in my male pursuit for a mate. Therefore, pursuing the understanding of how God Loves and subsequent love from a Pastor to the Flock, even a mate would benefit enormously from the transition to man-centered understanding and potential ungodly pursuits with a Pastor’s own wicked fleshly heart. A Pastor must kneel before God before he may stand before a wife proclaiming undying love.

We are new creatures no longer simple subjects to the gods of this world even with regard to love. When Pastor’s forget this they become arrogant and foolish holding closed door meetings with members of the opposite sex believing themselves somehow risen above the testing of their own souls. There is no hierarchy in the Christian Church, no man is given more of the Spirit of God than any other and thus all men must be vigilant, diligent and sober minded to defense against the potential for lapses, falls and sin.

This requires, demands that when a Pastor is considering a romantic love leading to discussion of marriage that he love with God’s Love, putting aside his own predilection to foolish action, embraced by the flesh. There must be special regard to dedication in purity and no false proclamation of love or the potential thereof which may subject a woman whom God loves completely to the deception of a man. Let’s face it Adam blamed his disobedience first upon Eve and then upon God Himself. The mistakes made in my life are mine alone and so the departure from making those mistakes is also mine. The anointing must come first and in that anointing a willingness no even dedication to doing the right thing for all those in the Body, especially one who shares the potential for a healthy marriage. I am not beyond the errors of man and stand diligently against my own propensity to make sinful mistakes when not armored by God’s Holy Spirit against them.

I crave a life walked within proximity to the Holy Spirit. Departure for even a moment in manly confidence is opening avenue for access by the enemy’s deceptive power under any authority given him by God. I saw Job tested, a man who had by sight done nothing wrong and this led in my view to the only mistake he made, believing his own righteousness sufficient before God. God does not tempt me but He sure does use this world and my own tendencies to put me in situations that will test and consequently sanctify me by the power of battle bruises. Any of us who is serious in their Christian determination would agree that it is typically ourselves, our expectations, attitudes and dalliances that lead us directly into the most effective lessons. Therefore, the key is walking with the Spirit, IN the Spirit, consciously for as long as it may be maintained and even beyond through Spirit’s miraculous participation in our walk of sanctification.

So, is there ever going to be a marriage for this Pastor. Possibly, God willing and God’s Planning would have to create that union. For my part I must honor all women as His Daughter’s, not unique, all unique. That requires demands that until such time as a marriage is indicated by God’s Holy Spirit that I remand myself to offering and accepting the love of God with each of you. To do otherwise is deceptive, foolish and unloving. So, when I tell you I love you that what it means that God has filled me, washed me, adopted me, anointed me, provisioned and protected me to utilize His gifting to support, edify and encourage you to fulfill His design for your Life in bringing honor, glory and praise to His Holy Name. That is what He wants of me, that is what you want of me. Anything else will be revealed by His direction in His Timing for His Glory. I will not force, deceive nor participate in my own departures from that understanding. No matter how much my flesh says otherwise, for it like the enemy are no longer in Control of my Eternal Life Reborn.

The windowless well of my expected descent. Down into the recollection and reminiscing of the days before salvation. Not to champion a life poorly navigated, rather to recall the massive debt that was forgiven when the Lord climbed up on to that Tree. Some men owe, some men want debts cancelled, especially those which are massively unpayable. I never want to forget the darkness from whence I emerged free from burden, care, worry and wrath. You suffered God’s Wrath and His separation so that I, praise Him, may never feel that eternal pain.

Do you see the light of the World and its embers burning in the fire of my baptized heart? Do you see the image of Christ and the fruits of spirit emanating from my visage eternal? Do you see the shining smiles of love’s realization upon the faces of those who I am feeding or sustaining in prayer? What is mercy but the extension of the hand God first offered me from that damp, silent prison? Where to next walking the path of light into the future, knowing fully that this is not my end but only my beginning?

What exponential hope emits, projected upon a future pregnant with Divine Opportunities designed for me by God? How many faces and hearts will I encounter as I collect and store the human treasures and experiences up for myself in heaven? How many may I forgive or will perhaps forgive me leaving me cleansed of tragic unforgiveness and tarnished works of regret? How blessed is a life that is viewed in contentment as the preparedness floor for the next chapter? I ponder the efficacy of God’s Spirit through a man fully committed and made available for all God’s Good Pleasure.

Oh, fine God in Heaven, my Father, My God and King. Please let this be my epitaph of temporary participation. Please take my crowns for I deserve and want nothing but the eternal life you’ve given. Being your kin is the greatest reward this or any man encounters. Don’t really care what comes as a result of this epoch. Simply happy and overjoyed to spend it with you. I mean truthfully, that means I this boot boy have made it to everlasting. Being a man eternal whether behind you in service or kneeling at the throne is more than enough for me. Praise Honor and Glory to the name above all names. May my worship continue to be true, my words righteous, my heart clean and my works designed for your maximum glory.

Way too eager to stop this hypnotic thinking. Preposterous imagination, colorful, commanding, mesmerizing and avatar. Almost as if I have ignored the real to insert my own invention or imaginary universe and it is so real that am forced to deny or curse every bit of sound evidence asserted as reason. Oh, how comforting this world where everyone agrees with all that I say and do. I think I can get used to this and feel justified in corrupting or jettisoning everyone who will not wear their shirt or speak their lines on cue.

Would you like me to explain once again. While you are just doing it, take a sip, another hit and read something so salacious that your tongue fights back in pronouncing the words. When did we decide that freedom is any fool acting out every whim that convinces him or her of its worthiness? Some things are right and most just are plain wrong, you know it, I know it, but you want to hold my family, job and prayer hostage so that I agree with the lies you would force upon the world. NO.

Children are children because God wants them to be for as long as they need to shape themselves for maturity and abundant life. The Light Has Come into the World. No we do not agree that darkness is a passion worthy of pursuit. Certainly shadows, midnight and the mad sounds of the marching dark are meant to give us conflict and understanding but not to provide foundation for good living. We must once again become accustomed to acknowledge that which remains sovereign outside of the Creation He provided.

Gravity, Time, weak, strong, forces and mass/acceleration govern the movement and the silence of bodies, plasma, matter and space. They are not but elements, tools, boards, nails and energy formed in a specific set of parameters that they provide the spinning top, the Kaleidescope, diorama, mobile. If I find a way to cancel gravity or to claim it has no control over my universe it does not make it truth or adjust reality. I have simply found a way to change the things that God made, most often to my demise and negative effect upon the universe. I have not mastered the atom if I manage to disturb it to shattering. I have simply let the lion out of the cage.

On the solemn road of refresh and reform, nothing normal, all exceptional. Faithfully reviewing the ladder of reformation to arrive at this position. What shall be said? Something merciful, kind and edifying or the biting tones of winter wind? Children withdraw in shock at the pace and mirror of her outrage. Water’s calm, fields bright green, lanes leading to righteous regard. Forgive us please for remembering a bit too late for encouragement.

Where is freedom tested but, in those moments, when we try something unfamiliar and seemingly invent the courage to go forward. Holding our breath we check the oven, slowly retreating from the simmering heat hopeful that all is as it should be. Patronage and porridge, large honeyed dobs and spoonsful of creamy goodness. We never expected to be living so cavalier, pretending that nothing was beyond achievement. What has come over us?

Infrequent in my doubting and faithful in my footfalls, I stand at water’s edge mimicking the slow dancing ebbs of fish hiding from surface hungers. What should be revealed but the weakest points in thinking and the need for some improvement. Yet we cringe at self-evaluation, believing somehow that we should miss reflection. What then is the purpose of this short living? There are always packages to be delivered and the good word in short notes of loving kindness. What then delays our making its acquaintance.

To winds I surrender, blown to the edge of the sea, mud daubers and sand pipers tasting the salty spray looking for tomorrow as it steals time from today. Hidden bottles and baskets of wisdom float by on the waves as no one wondered. Policing ourselves we found timidity and shame. Over and again the breeze refreshed its pester, blowing baubles and hair into our mouths and eyes. As winter’s old man had finally given up the ghost with spring approaching. The sleepy rockstars of dawn and dream stole the show from midnight.