In the middle of a normal night fantastic happened. In a journey by the moon’s low-light we found the day we had awaited. When all stars crossed as we were told and the finite become everlasting. In a moment of glorious appearing I remembered all the time I doubted and found those brief instants of faith assured. Into the dark wandering path I went a bit off the ground in character and truth.

Sorry for all the things I missed or messed, those things with which God trust us. The priceless and the few. Willing to mark time or waste it I squandered a rare sequence of events meant to lay the ground work of something better. Yes, it is sufficient or proper etiquette to explain human flubbery, but the alternative of never missing the train promising your prompt arrival is option much grander.

Oh Well, it must be said four times a million and exclaimed in some imaginary language to please keep me awake at least for the moments that counted. Knowing all along that they all matter for each of them I must give accounting as to what I’ve done for the Lord. Problem is I was always so busy thinking of how I could angle it to benefit me, I missed intended focus. Yes, God will make it right but I sure do wish I could stay on plan for more than a minute and half. They are all so precious and beyond my repair.

The show continues and more hearts cry out in defense of the menagerie. Dodging as if real the darts of fiery imagination knowing so well how they once troubled me to the point of not sleeping. To them this all is true. The painful disregard of their feelings and their wants. It is not enough to chastise and wound, but rather to comfort and exhibit hope that there is only one to chase away to ghosts. Carrying or assisting in the nightmare only brings on more derision and disrepair. Trying to be a healer is not the same as praying to God for their relief.

Courage now quiet one. Peace now my love strong sweet. Hearts are not built for eternity, for they want right now. Another day transposes the wishes I once hardily relied upon. In a breathless sigh of daydream, I saw the light promising a rising of the morning sun. And knew that somehow tomorrow’s coming. Though the demons promise this night beyond a filibuster, somehow God sends Angels to shine His light upon the shirts and dirty woolen prayer shawls. What peace transcend the dark things of my equipping? It is the voice of God upon the waters so deep they touch the side unseen.

What shame is found in trying so hard you were doomed to fail when it really mattered? None, says God but the pain you feel is meant that you shan’t forget them. That spike in your heart comes from forgetting you were there to serve not be relieved in the midst of battle. It matters because that is the truth of God’s Creation. All the things matter less than one heart and a set of lungs breathing the cool air God gave them. Their invitation awaits to everlasting and you are postman chosen. Deliver and never forget those painful spots upon your diminished heart were the times that you’ve forgotten.

Two days ago God stopped the chastisement of this son. My Blood pressure had been dangerously elevated for several months, to the point where I could sleep no more than a couple hours and argued with everyone I met. Those who know me as a peaceful man would perhaps find this hard to believe. Yet, I knew that I was disobeying God and this has always been my greatest and maybe your greatest sin. Not doing what God has directed got me in the belly of the whale. I didn’t cry out to God for relief for its only road would be found in obedience. When I left the comfortable dwelling, a pleasant, clean, friendly home the pounding in my ears, head and heart stopped. Please accept my sincerest apologies for leaving your home in such terrible form.

Unfortunately, as always I left a mess in the wake of my self pursuits. You see, pursuing that which God has not given you, as with comfort, will only bring you and those around you a boat load of sorrow. A boat that is meant for one thing, to get you across the lake of this life while you watch, follow and love the Lord God our Savior, maker, Creator and King. No amount of fighting with yourself and others ever makes things right. Things that may only be right when doing what God has been commanding. He was patient with me to the point where He had to threaten my every breath with the clarity that if I didn’t obey He was going to bring me home. I am not Jonah, Moses, Solomon or Saul. I have seen the valley’s of discontent and promise. I have chosen Him. If there is a life He intends for me then it certainly will happen without argument, sorrow or discord. I must stand upon that ground.

This does not mean that I do not have love, great love, dynamic and true for those who walk with me in this life. It just means that in its expression I must be cautious, hopeful, patient and real. My exhausting arguments were torturous. When you are running from God the storm it creates around you catches everyone in its wrath, especially those you love. I do not want to trouble those around me, particularly those who are doing their very best to show me loving care, comfort and peace. But as with Jonah, I may not sleep in the belly of the boat safe, warm and dry as those around me are tossed about, in worry, wait and war. Standing on God’s Promises is not the same as waiting on them, just as a surfboard in hand is not pursuing, timing or riding upon a wave.

I have great passionate discourse, but must remain stoic in that expression for the danger of my words or touch as my actions/inaction may not only be sin but cause great pain to God and those whom I ardently love. Am I sorry. Yes, but my greatest remorse is not doing what the things God said must come first. Making the things of God second is relegating Him to my second love at best, a horrific sin for disciple, pastor or prophet. The Bible is clear that nothing good happens in that departure. Mine was no different. I believe that whatever let down I may have created it would have been far worse had I continued on my ignorant path and been called home early, leaving those I sought to support, encourage and love to do it on their own. In time, I hope that all of you forgive this man for wanting the creature comforts that would bring others some peace of mind to see me achieve. Will you also remember how much I love Him and you? Will you see that a man who has given all to God may not then carve out a portion for his own regard, because I belong to Him.

Perhaps, this falls on deaf ears as excuse or meager attempt to explain away my failures as friend, Brother and/or man. There is only one failure greater than letting any of you down and that is dying because I would not continue on the skinny path of God’s purpose and intent. Your pain will subside and I hope that there is no bitterness left in its absence. For these issues and decisions of temporary and permanent life are not mutually exclusive, but intertwined, messy and precise. We may only serve one master and how ever briefly I forgot/refused to give Him all. My regret and request for forgiveness is deep, but so too is my love and realization that giving up the things you want is always the hardest when those things appear best, healthy and everlasting. For there is only one eternal life to follow this brief time of breathing God’s good air, knowing His children and live abundantly. That life is found only in Him not in pursuits of my own desires no matter the intent. For as has been shown in this mess I have left behind me, man’s intention appears right but leads directly down the steps of Hades. It is bad enough to deceive myself but far worse to permanently damage those whom I bring with me in this selfish mortal quest.

I love you all and beg your forgiveness as I am begging God right now. I am sorry that my ridiculous arguments and unholy words left wounds, anger, regret and sorrow. As with intent the wounds are never healed because I meant to do otherwise. For the pain I caused in doing/not doing anything God directed for or against is far greater than any betrayal I would ever cause. I want the things of God, the way of God and can see no righteous path to simply taking what I can get absent His instruction and stewardship. I have been a man of angst and harsh rhetoric as of late because I was wrestling with Almighty and using you few as the whipping children of my discontent. I hope he shows you the path to healing and His peace. May His joy float your hearts. In Jesus Name. There is no shortness of love only the self-control to never use it as a destructive tool to serve this flesh, eye or pride that wants only to Sin against God and consume the world.

I have not left you behind only stepped aside, close by to help instead of burden. God once again has purged my life, perhaps this time more deeply than simply the weight of objects and items if my intense focus. He will take from what He must for His will is my only quest in service. To reach that purposeful objective I must never lose sight that you are the greatest treasure of this life and the next. I will not lose you, for our love is the only thing that follows me through those pearly gates in to forever. You may be angry with me, I hope only for a time. If and when you once again find need of my laughter, hope and encouragement please know that I do not abandon those I love. Remember your position and importance in eternity. You are the greatest blessings God has sent and for that I am eternally grateful. With Great Love.

Dusty, freshly cracked slate. Sitting to let the sun dry and warm the shadow’s, dreary hand. From here eternity is visible. Resting in the peace that has surpassed malevolence and worry. Raspy hands, voice and heart. Calloused by the miles, as woody-metal brings hope to pain. Readied for the work and days to come. Frozen no more we anticipate sweaty embrace of Summer. The wind has lost its pride and now shows friendly face or seeds for proper soil.

There is nothing out of place as the Word heals wounds we never even noticed. Soaking freshly the furled, bloodied clothing revealing the arduous days of winters wander. A new scent embracing pine and saplings reminding me of days upon the mountains and moon’s casting. Peering into establishments primed for demanding prayers of blessing and mercy. Remembering that all will be fulfilled in due time, whether patience shares fruits of power or perhaps promise.

What is offered today, upon block or perhaps misgiving? Do shapes form quickly in the dreams of our pursuance? Freed of regret and unforgiveness our packs ride high upon shoulder with nary notice or conditioning. What then shall find its way into the passages of Wisdom? Displays of battle tended, scars mourned or shown as trophy, waiting for true change to waken hearts. We await dawn to tell when light steps are demanded. We look for lights first sounding.

What journey calls us homeward? Do we stay away in self-loathing never completely understood or aware that love is always gift? Ne’er prepared or monies tendered to delight of burden rescued. Being sought by those who’ve commanded a raid upon the night. We stand removed from that good counsel, instead focused, laser to the liking of the War Chief. Knowing in full measure those for whom He sent us. When noon comes we will sit again and dry in the sun’s good pleasure.

A thousand and more things left on the grace of my forgiveness. Thankful to bet. In the bail of my regret, the bands and anchors torn asunder. Accounted my surprise to the depth in imagination’s folly. Leaving me hopeful of a certain tomorrow.

Inclined of appreciation. Fallen on remorse to remind myself of sorrow. Allegiant to demand, responding to apprehensive wrestling within the embrace of Almighty. Struggling in the wind of my remaking. Leaving me a dove of enlightened response.

Those prayers which sweep away the worry. Finding casual enslavement in loving repair. A response ungiven but stored in the bastion of those things never lived or frozen. In peace I find the counsel of latent wisdom. Looking out for my arrival.

Steps taken away, having never mustered counsel. Comfort in the orb of tears shedding misunderstanding and contrition. Before the throne of Grace, mercy and recreation, seed having found the soil it required. Leaving man born anew.

What new Earth may hold the great and fearful stars? Fallen to hard ground released in time and wonder. Heat and God’s good pleasure making masterpiece of thought and matter. Speaking words that time, gravity, space and life obey.

Must I question God each time He blesses me with direction? What is trust my beloved friends? What is supplication? What is hope upon promise? What is doubting all of these?

If I have chosen to follow then it is the leader who receives obedience when direction is given? Do I know the Word that I may follow it and be transformed into the man He wishes me to be? Or do I remain ignorant purposefully that I may question argue and harangue the King?

Are my objectives and prayers about the outcomes of this temporary existence? Or has my faith reached beyond this end to the avenues of gold my feet will travel? And if my thoughts be specific to this short world, are they to bring as many to the King as this time allows?

I will entirely concede that if you have no respect for the ambassador/messenger that you have never surrendered to the King’s Message he serves. Fruits Brother, do not grow without seed, sustenance and God’s will in formation.

What then is my capacity to self-justify when behaviors clearly indicate a misalignment? Either I am His or not, No Gray. The wiggle room of hypocrisy was something that infuriated Christ.

His and No One else’s. Do what you wish, but if you believe me trustworthy, if you see me an ambassador of the King, if you follow Him then perhaps in love you should assume what I am telling you is that which He sent me to say. Why did they slay the prophets? Because they were always wrong?

How many times must a man’s Word given Him by God be found right before we begin to listen without quibble, argument or bitterness of heart? Patience is wonderful. Gentleness is of the King. He said there is always a point where wisdom dictates retreat or departure from intention to walk the road with sandals freed of silicate.

The windows of my pregnant era continue to collapse. Not a destructive cacophony of panic, rather present call to urgency in action. What shall be birthed in the Spirit of these precious moments. I know so little but promise. Yet, surprisingly, it is more than enough to accommodate reason, emotion and steady, faithful growth.

Though things diminish it is not toward a certain end but beginning as all rebirth portends. Born again of covenant, a promise or promises made by the only power without comparison. The shadow holds dominion but knows instinctively no everlasting design or confidence. For when light comes and it always comes, darkness flees shattered by the power of wave, plasma a penetrating particle.

So too, my heart knows the reformation of existence. Not to death and return to ash, but increase. An increase with humility not prowess but service to all that defines Divinity. What shall our conquest be but looking forward into the ever lighted hallways of majesty. To become that which a seed was designed, intellectually, autonomously, redefined by beginnings without end.

To what fury owe my heart the pleasure of victory? No maelstrom or chaotic promise but the foundation of all design, founded in the structure of those things which rival time. I am not the promise, but the one who believes upon it. Man, who shall never rival creator or creation but set apart to be part of those things Divinely created for service to the King’s Glory.

Let prayer unfold. Let dreams amend. Let darling hope find the hearts of men replenished, eternal brought to the streams of everlasting. Whilst we ponder fame let us exceed to glory and grace. The founding of eternity. Love the promise of a God who knew all things that would remain elusive to our heart. Waiting until we ourselves have chosen readiness.

You want certain words and are indifferent or exasperated at the ones that I’ve been given. I am no audience but a waiting wellspring with seed. There is no dark that owns my name, no shadow that captures my attention or heart, no day other than the return of God for which I yearn.

Understandable all. Certainly my choice, my fault, my greatest and wildest hope. That God remembers and calls my name on the day before the valley of decision. For what purpose other than this acknowledgement have I sought? For what moment other than presence in the sight of God have I yearned.

To that last step I fight. To that last rung I climb suspending the weight of all my worlds, none in vain only those of real thought and anguish felt. Gone to wash the rebuked notions of norm. Into quake my feet have fallen only now remembering the stance upon Ages Rock. Steady feet for which I am yearning.

Washed away, sins of remembrance and recrimination to be led to reconciliation with Almighty. What second hand whispers shall cherish I? What tears having been shed shall be recovered? What morning into whose dawn I rear shall lure me away from the call upon my yearning heart?

No dreams but hope. No fault but the mistakes twice made. Into forgiveness I dive looking to forget those I have failed in releasing. To peace not my wild, brutal heart and conspiratorial misgiving. Relieved to let each passing regret flow downstream and the weight of slights retained follow yearn for the Prince of Peace.

Time short before us in faith. Promises met and kept for the area beyond our seeing. Into the will of ourselves or God we pour out hearts, efforts and opportunity. Knowing only the outcome but never the day for which we ready.

Straining to look beyond bend, we sigh and find relief or angst at the end of our fictional ropes. Talking between us, we claim to know so much more. Fully frightened by the colors and picture being brushed out before our eyes.

Ready for nothing or prepared for everything. Laughing along with the friendly and drowning in sorrow for words in short supply. We cry for the innocent and pray for the convicted hoping that condemnation remains aloof.

Millennium’s purse. The waking and shaking of Stone and Cielo. Reformed to suit the construct of gates, fences, golden streets and Throne. We look forward to remembering everything until the pain ensues.

Calmed by storm and sea, knowing the superiority of promise and the events beyond the lake-shore. Into the sleeping eyes of God we peer, speaking rustling words to rain, sky and sea. All will be quite certain.

With emphasis on the imperfect and the miracles, we stop to brush away the windswept tears, smiling against the salt lain in our wake. To ponder tomorrow we are forced to focus away from this perfect day we’re given.

And that to the trials yet begun, we rejoice that although men must meet them, they thank heaven and heart for the opportunity to walk through fire. In thankful joy and supplication we find those things for which we once were careful.

Now God calls, trumpets peeling cry across the moors of morrow. Our ears behold the coming Rushed wind and fire-hearted Spirit. To accommodate nothing and make haste to call all things to the roads that leads asunder.

Thoughts are neither categorized as emotion or logic. Man demands interpretation or perspective to make these distinctions. So, any cognitive analysis of scripture or offered opinion is in itself interpretive. There are many who seek discussion, argument or insert predetermined influences to steer conversation. The things of God are not open to interpretation but rather guided by the Holy Spirit. Therefore, to say one is falsely interpreting a book, verse or textual ideal when by nature those true to Gospel only have spiritual understanding given by the Earnest of our Salvation immediately sheds light on the necessary evidence of His Presence.

Do we assume incorrectly that God knows so little of His creation that He is oblivious to the distinctions made by each unique participant? Do we truly believe God may not discern mockery, from reason, from wrong thinking? To color the Perfect Word of God with my own wounded or wrong angled emotion inhibits my clarity of understanding and transformation. Therefore each person must be filtered and directed by the Power of Spirit, giving Spiritual Sight and discernment non existent in the mortal flesh. It is scripturally essential to remain within the stated objectives regarding the intention of the Body of Christ. It is a collective acquaintance with Christ that prepares the Body in love to avoid the deceptive arguments of False Doctrine.

Furthermore, God knows that life is lived over a variable period of time for each participant its length solely within His understanding. Therefore sanctification, preparation, maturity, transformation must be done over a period fully orchestrated by choice and God’s objectives. For He alone knows where we need to go and how to timely get each of us there. Therefore, it is essential for each of us to experience imprecise thinking and be corrected by God’s intervention through Gospel leading, experiential understanding and corrective discipline. There is no other way to near perfection then to reside in its silhouette carefully seeking Divine prudence to somehow match Christ’s Gate. The Word is not made for me to master but for it to master me in its power to transform the Earthly to Divine Reflection.

So, to those who would cloud, obfuscate or discourage either children of disobedience or the faithful to a specific unique understanding of the Gospel, perhaps to garner the ribbons and trophies of intelligence or accolade, please remember we all follow only One Voice. The Holy Spirit is the Promise of our eventual glorification and we are but participants in the grand and splendid parade of players working out their lines. Thus, whether I am predominantly emotive or logic is of little consequence. For to understand the Gospel in Godly clarity requires Spiritual Sight only given by God’s Spirit. None of us may insert ourselves or the false excuse of interpretation where there exists no role for man or angel. In Jesus’ Holy Name.

Do you really want to? Do you really think that there is righteous justification for action or inaction? Do you believe that the relevant leverage applied with forceful intention is worthy of defense? Do you trust Sovereignty enough to stand in the crosshairs believing upon deliverance? What is the nature of fear that it forces men from platforms founded on good, truth and noble guidelines of character? What is earned when nothing is spent in obtaining it?

Does the candid proclamation of unwavering boundary somehow present formidable protection from evil’s encroachment? Does power sit idly as the innocent or vulnerable is dispatched without mercy? What layman endeavors to study, understand and litigate with the wicked simply to bring Glory to the Name of God? What has been given by the Lord, should it ever be abandoned without stand? What is the purpose of bowing out but for better terms?

What is relieved in cleverness or the wily abdication of principle to defend against the wicked objectives of the damned? Does the Truth often win or is it always victorious simply with the allocation of sufficient time? Will the righteous from time to time lose their way and do the bidding of the fallen? What is sufficient threat, unless mirroring established fear to tear a man’s feet away from the foundation of the Rock of Ages? What rivals God’s immovable promise?

Lord, are we left to walk away when we have never been given that fearful spirit? When is it reasonable to assume that this time God will not choose to protect me? Have I slighted the Lord or stand in defiance of His Will without confession? He alone is our judge, even of the wicked and He alone knows that they have been sent as test of faith or given to make war against a saint. My job is love, declaration of His testament, walking my testimony without fear, filled with the Holy Spirit of Promise.