There are times when you put down the sword and shield in gratefulness of realized prayer and peaceful moments. Moments seen too precious to gloss over or run bye. Quiet times before the throne, times where children may breathe the giggled hope of humanity’s protection. We are in the breach, that quietude, the separation from calamity, sadness and driven fear. To rise up and express kindness to all people in freedom and hope of better tomorrow.

Yet, in our solemness we take a long breath of preparation for the remaining trial of man’s endurance. In this calm all things equal we observe our commitment to ceterus parabus and worldly protections or in the Will of God, Almighty. Having been healed enough through the answer to our endearing prayers we may now permanently invest all our breath, force and honor to returning this nation and the world to the rightful and righteous order that alone now allows this moment of peace

How then will you try harder? Especially knowing that all your ardor and contention produced limited if any result? What miracles are born in your heart and power? What lives saved in your worrisome endeavor? What problems solved by your eloquent repose? Is this moment our greatest opportunity to realize and awaken to the fact that we could do nothing but wait upon God? Isn’t it wisdom to return to the source of all blessing and acknowledge His sovereign Grace and Good Will for a mankind that seems perpetual embroiled in struggle?

My Sword and Shield are always at ready. Not because of training, prowess and overwhelming capacity to wage war upon fellow humans. Rather that my protections reside in the Seal of God’s Holy Spirit and His Dominion and dwelling with my heart as His domicile in this dimension. I realize that Jesus defeated all God’s enemies on the cross and that the mere mention of His Word, His Holy Name and His image evident upon me strikes fear and delivers power to those enemies, forced to flee before my courageous stand in Christ.

Into sleep we rest and dream, navigating the spaces separating time and spaces unseen. I fell into hope and it sustained me. Gathered in the roots of time, fostered by thought, all things gelled by realities connected with tether to the eternal places only God could know. Place-marks collected to the hands of time mapping out pastures visible to the men who ventured sideways. Sitting in pools illuminated by the light of freedom we found peace sitting quietly in the rafters.

Questions, so many perspectives and possibility. Unborn for the fear of taking steps that leave us battered or lonely. The foolish, embrace eager moments of shaping the universe into solid paradigm. These are the mind predicaments, the places and moments of horror where reality and dream merge, producing the fears that shape our instance. What remains are those things born of courage or paralysis. What control, white knuckled grip upon the seconds of solemnity.

I released you from the thinking binding you to reason. Chaos once believing itself ruler found fuller sands and hand prints upon the maps of time laid out before our making. Where order made greater sense and realms beyond prediction extended forward. As if where anything had been was circular. And those things East and West were lines of sight captured by emotional need to see them so. Tears and smiles the oars upon the silken waters of life and re creation.

So old and breathless the sigh and tests of mourning. Stretched by the gelatin mass of prayers and walkways frozen by words strewn asunder. The thunderous voice of all that made me useful called me to the foot of something long since planted. Wretched and tarnished, cast into barnacles collected we scraped the metals of man’s longing. Yearning for relief yet never having been tested or gathered by the exceptions of experience.Prostrate before promptings long forgotten. We sought rest as if it were guaranteed all who fought for promise.

Much ado about the end of men’s time. The sweeping billets and criminal offense. So tense the hearts and wayward hope. Escaping mimes and avoiding mines. The task a random solution of eloquent endeavors. Where dreams are written and songs remembered. And dawn a perfect measure of indigo and red. While the son hides its face while they summon all to breakfast. In our sleep we never forgot the reason. Relaxing in the causeway where nightmares seldom roam. In flight we experienced the upside and malignant. Challenging all men to become more than they were. We flexed our upset and never read emotion. Totally ignorant of the stomach full of fear. To promise nothing marching in holed boots and anodized brass. Clicking our tongues to accommodate tom foolery. We fell to the ground in vast semblance of piety. As our backs were broken by the absolute unbreakable. We remained tethered to blind assumption that rescue approached us. In daftness and vast indifference to any character we looked for something upon which to focus our thought.

Our internal bosses belted down sweet tea while the servants looked away. The scraping sound of heart’s bottom signaled the bitterness of foul air and Earth. We knew not yet presided over reason. Claiming strength in palsy and prowess in vapid contemplation. We stumbled for causes while answers escaped us. In league with pride and noble intention we set about to master nothing and claim we’d done it quickly. Our days were longer than nights would consider. The backs of our Sherpa’s laden with massive tote. Reflecting on emptiness we cast a vision of the things that would never be and the ways that we never went. For our challenges forgotten we strove to be King of nowhere and vassal of lost habitation. Well to do without a coin to match between us. Our invitation revoked by the bellman backed up by massive talent. The plague of nation and the raw aspiration of failed thinking. Chiming in with some words meant to gather attention. We forgot to mention the fact that our friend knew the owner of the assembly. In rhyme we recounted the debasement of our banishing.

Pray tell what lands and victories would find rebirth in the morning. Where tears left dry eyes basking in smiles so wide they threatened breadth of horizon. And suns so distant screamed as their light only seen at night was far too primitive and slow to reach the heavens. But what perspective in parsecs and volume when testing the limits of vacuum surrounded in time. Tapping our fingers and toes we hope to rush into good pleasure. Finding only the cold, runny noses and dirty hands of the men who sought their sin way passed season. What coffers filled by lilies lobbying for good measure? What androids found love in lifelessness, hoping to resemble something that would be accounted to God. Mercy of merciless. Strange distant ring of bells calling those who no longer believed to recall a story of absent grace. What grand words I deliver to convince you of things for which there is no evidence offered? So seldom my brief display of righteous consideration I thought now the best opportunity for accounting.

What do I have to give proof in use of things, rings and talents acquired? Where are the treasures of this world that may only be sealed in memory and experience? What fuel may I offer fire’s warmth? I lay back and let the Bishops take pawns swiftly. Visual acuity and reactive fear the best of my gifting. Hiding and wondering around with the salt of reason wiped from my visage. I employ the depths of independence and an air of non threatening movement as my best act of camouflage. Hoping to resemble air, fire, water or dirt, I leak toward the edge of perception. These are most certainly not my dromedaries. And the servants sent packing with their flashing robes and wonderful wares. We just recently invited to the party. I fortunately have no faux pretense of station or family. Having never risen from the depths of depravity, never known fame beyond candor, and hope beyond poverty. I fall to sleep as men wake and fail to quiver as men shake. For I am cast off in the wake of time’s passing. To be remembered only by God and the oft chance mishap of recognition from the middle of the crowd. Glory spilled forth before the crystal sea, undeserved and unwanted.

If it were easy it wouldn’t have taken Divine intervention to produce it.

When I reminisce about this sustaining force of life. I am stopped in my tracks in the realization that I have made it this far. Awe stricken standing in a rain I could neither coax nor convince, tears erased and made simple in the sky’s deluge, there is nothing but the reality of my absent controls.

Why strive when worry is nonsensical? Why rage in spiritual storm when calm comes in brief request? Why lash out when God Almighty has a perfect plan for each man, even those we never met?

Things have not gone the way I depicted or approved. When reviewing my manuscript the characters and scenes are clearly written by another hand than mine. Certainly, there can be purpose in outcomes frustrated? Is it in the surrender one finds in those mechanisms insufficient to make things turn out my way?

To the East go where God’s wind blows your heart. There is no right but that which brings you to the foot of the throne and beyond. I am no prayerful warrior that holds the only light worth following. Or am I?

This was meant to be a family affair. Yet, to my reckoning even I pursue the path that rises to meet my sullen and swollen feet. And I weep when I am tortured to trudge the path of most resistance, even as my legs grow in girth and strength.

I am not alone but the enemy strives to reach the old me in agreement. Even in the winds of raging mountain skies am I affixed to the rock of ages. Thank you so much Lord for the choice of digging deep. May these roots find wealth of soil, purpose and heart in the completion of your willing faith.

There is no follow left beyond the commitment to Christ’s skinny path. I am no longer reluctant to hear and obey the Word, but rather inclined by nature to obedience. All the fear, construction traffic and noise are part and parcel of a man died already. In Birth I was not rid of the caustic hope in temporality, but given a new road and challenges to become born anew.

Protection, calm, vision, growth, support, encouragement and hope. There are no casual aspects of love. Love is not a mealy mouth business of minimum effort for in that instant of indifference people become broken, forgotten, depressed and under-nourished. The least appreciable component of love is included sacrifice. When the lover determines that to properly love one of God’s children they must be guided into a future absent measurable personal return for the investment. For love is not about me but about you.

Love is no simple discipline that it comes with ease of mastery. It must be practiced, nurtured and oft times delivered in an environment where the expectations are beyond current experience. In other words, love requires a willingness and skill to look outside of the current tools or understanding to deliver the needs of the moment to reach an anticipated or guided future. Additionally, love is given without price and commanded by our God and King. There is therefore no substitute for the Love God offers to each of us that is then extended beyond each of us.

Stop shaking those who you’ve been given to love. Love is not instilled where a desire to forcibly make perfect reigns. It is not my job to fix anyone, including myself. It is my job to look upon my own image, thoughts, actions and prayers that I am in line, consistent with clarity and purpose to see the changes God provides. I am not judge. There is one judge, Jesus Christ the King. Even my own sharpening and perfection are His domain. Yes, I may out of love assist in opinion, guidance and direction when requested, but it is outside of my power and purpose to criticize those I have been given to love into matching my vision of what they are meant to become.

Why then is humility essential before God? The presumption of contrition and humility before God is that He is the only one who knows the end of all things. My will submitted before His Perfect Will is a presumption for an effective relationship with the Almighty God of this and every universe. Without the inspiring surrender before the King we begin on a broad boulevard that cannot lead to the desired destination of everlasting. In love, I do not know His objective or purpose for those He has given into my loving embrace. Therefore, I must go to Him for direction on how to encourage and assist. That being said any idea emanating from my own resolve will by nature be insufficient to the task of appropriate love and care.