Christmas all around, so intense, the relief of all expense, we could even feel the sound. The sheep had all been kept, the lambs and goats they leaped, the answers had been found. Into the dream we swam, the Lion and the Lamb, crushed olives on the ground.

Singing from the heart, before the musician thought to start, the crowd knelt in Holy Awe. Each human played their part, no column, script or chart, all remembered what they saw. To dance and yet stand still, the Lion paid the bill, fulfillment and freedom from the law.

For we had thought to serve, the gumption and the nerve our works were always short. There is no way from here to there without relationship repair to the Father and His court. So we tried to look busy so bubbly and so fizzy, never living abundant life practicing our sport.

So late at night the snow falls on house or field our eyes peeled as onions made us weep. There is no hope of sleep for reasons so wide and deep each sows and then we reap. Lines lade perfectly in sand our will and wants are planned to demand a spot upon final stand.

Ours was never His, Tis’ nice but just show biz His reward is far too grand. What we thought so clearly help was refuse wrapped in kelp transparency taught by collective man. The hive it never left He hid Moses in the cleft, bereft of power and wisdom we looked upon the Plan.

We shouted, danced and sang and threw the boomerang forgetting to retrieve it return flight. And in moments of forget we failed to remember all of our regret even forgetting how to fight. It all matter so much and yet without the pain, the stain left on life had turned to ardent white.

Days with dry mouth, parched by sun and sand. Shall we drink in our dreams or memories or ponder our predicament? Days with clean heart, none, not of my own volition as my stomach rules my heart and my organs my commitment.

Am I made whole by my love of art and fashion? Or perhaps by my ability to generate memes and content on line seeing the enormous wealth amassed by time and talent? My dry lips are drenched in the purchase of my own will and power.

Worship me in the desert and I will return you to communal comfort, they say but never deliver. There is no more appropriate word than the rebuke that comes from the mouth of God for this idolatry of lies. But our thirst is slaked by deception.

Depart from me, such painful stance to a lonely man or woman. Who lose the single thing that makes them feel less lonely even when alone. So much attention of God’s eyes upon me that I would rather have back the thirst some times than have Him see.

What is joy in the middle of a wrestling match? Do you truly fear the man who scowls and proclaims your coming destruction? Or is it the man who smiles as he tosses you around a bit who truly wrecks your morning? Perhaps a popped hip is in order today?

This match will never be decided in my rage induced anger, but in the moments I stop, winded but enduring and imagine or declare my intention in the struggle. Impassioned destruction only suits the repetitive nature of mans continued conquest over nothing.

Why then do all men feel the urge to fight on? The mirror shows me the struggle has always been internal and the enemy laughs as he has convinced me that I may blame him for perpetual idiocy. Why would I ever help God’s enemies enjoy my struggle?

To rest and realize this gerbil entertainment is poorly used on men. For we quest against demonstrated history of the irony and futile nature of repeated experiments with expectation of eternal outcome. There is only one way and that only relatively recent in offering.

Do we seek cure or maintenance of symptoms? Though the rule gives me cathartic justice, nothing provides the same relief as obedience to the Laws of God. So I will fight on with God and neighbor for the joy of muscle building surplus. Knowing it never was solution.

For all the answers that have ever made a difference have been found in peace and arms laid to rest. The fools errand to procure peace through Dominion squeezes men into the tube and forces the combustible pressure to build until flames or fury break free.

The time has arrived to look upon our entire history and for once in man’s existence choose to do something that has never been accepted. The machinery must not fail but rather find no more willing participants, rather having made the choice to smile, laugh and wrestle on.

So many reasons or so I thought to win the battles in the sand or jungle. Yet, forthcoming is another war against someone I was taught to hate without evidence. No it is the deception that we fight and show our foolish understanding as we fight ourselves to win the prize.

Sitting cross legged before God, connected to all things and everyone by Him. You imagine yourself separate, forgotten or ignored but the truth may just be your answer and only hard for you to believe. Hold on for when you do see all your pain and tears will suddenly be as if they never were.

Sent to name the animals and make a Stand for Sovereign. Not that I must be forgotten but that I must be denied in my lusts, passions and distractions. For a purpose beyond myself is written by a hand that knows the mistakes I am capable of making. How to offer human’s grace then let them choose.

I don’t know what awaits, I am dependent upon promises and imagination, His Promises and my own capacity to imagine things that I am promised will be greater than I ever could. These are not days wasted or spent in blind service to an apparition, but to our origins a thinking, Feeling, Living, God.

For some inexplicable reason He loves us more than we are capable of returning in exchange and has seen in His infinite wisdom to bless us with a pathway to forgiveness for our mistake most egregious. There is no understanding in our present state but there is hope and promise of Some Day.

I did not write the screen play nor even contribute to the manuscript or movie. I see that I am a bit player and happy for it as the burden of self importance is impediment to my successes. Victories found only in the dutiful service and humility of purpose to a Will and Plan ever greater than my own.

Having waited so long did your heart forget that it deserved and was crafted for blood? Not to simply add flare to life but to the be at the center of being alive. Long have you plowed the fields, made possible flight and fought against all aspects of the chaos drowning world that sought to take it from us. What happens to men when we forget that without heart it has always been impossible to love? Is there a story where a lonely man remembers to receive what has never been given or to rain upon the world in compassion, never stopping to taste a drop? This isn’t simply a sad story but a point at which we voluntary decide to do it for some other reason than self.

Have you found that reason? Will you work for free or suffer even worse the ravages of the worlds’ maw seeking sustenance on your wounded psyche? What blessing is found in being empty, imagining yourself waiting to be filled by external benevolence, then finding unfortunately it was a bright colored story written on folded brown, paper bags? The change doesn’t happen at once you know, making it infinitely more difficult and now an effort of simply endurance until the sun of transformation rises over the shadow of gaping teeth and consuming hunger. Yet, once seen the light has no equal and you find that cardio of heart and mind to make to any end.

I have never been the flavor of the clique or day. Being ruthless became a learned experience for I had never known that wounding was part of the pleasure of life, nor ignoring all who needed simple compassion to survive the burdens matter more that the creature comforts of a single man. Givers are not takers but they are never free from the chemical emotional trappings of a world that was made to function interactive. All have fought instead of joining together to produce something beyond the works of self, something combining the glory in each of our making to do things beyond, stretching the capacity of one man to become a functional family.

Yes, it is okay for one man to work in service but only if there is a master, a King a God who is His Father. Why, because that is how he made this and He didn’t like seeing His Man alone, stating it was the one thing He did not make good. So He changed it and for those that have chosen for Glory’s reason to abstain because they were made to produce things to which no one else will volunteer, He fortifies the Promise of everlasting and Loving Family beyond the rainbows and sundowns of this life, found in the next. That hope is one that sponsors men who may battle overnight and rarely tire for they know the love they have is only found in the embrace of God.

Humility is toughest for the; talented, rich, distracted and certain. Are these chains to the ills of humanity looked upon as gifts, diminishing the possibility that these of greatest human measure will ever surrender to anyone, especially to an All Powerful God? Does this mean the likelihood of their salvation and eternal life has minimal probability? Wow, so there may be direct correlation to the most talented, blessed and ambitious among us suffering the severely reduced opportunity for finding grace and experiencing eternal life?

Broken men find repair in their diminished functionality, equally translating to loss of capacity/desire to please other human beings. However, significant increase in modest expression of compassion, empathy and willingness to get on the skinny path of transformation from what was to what is possible. What was once used to impress now seeks to care for those experiencing similar deprecating effects of the human process of personal growth. Not a self-sponsored or controlled enrichment but one by God’s Hand.

Should we then look upon the richest, most talented, most awe inspiring and powerful humans with pity and remorse. Should we accord them special sympathetic understanding realizing that the road to salvation will be spiked with obstruction and greater difficulty? But he that knew not, and did commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes. For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required: and to whom men have committed much, of him they will ask the more. Luke 12:48

Have we considered the context equally Jesus’ expression regarding the difficulties associated with a wealthy man? It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. Mark 10:25 Is it in fact harder to achieve the highest rewards in this life which include eternal life and aspects not yet seen when given the talents, treasure and mastery that make conquest in this world more likely? Are these people then to be pitied by the huge lumber in their eyes implanted in natural resistance to supplication before God?

How then does this transform or edit my previous understanding of those apparent blessings bestowed upon those who have power, good looks, influence and authority in this world? Those who have money depend and rely upon that money to control the factors of this life. Is that really a blessing or perhaps a curse in self reflection? I know thousands of unhappy people with bad relationships and underachieved worldly goals who enjoy the controls and confidence of power and money. What other explanation exists for their continued dissatisfaction?

I weep for them as I weep for myself when failing to be humble before the Throne of God and somehow believing I have achieved some grand self-certification that pronounces me the master of my domain in my lack of necessity for God. Since access before God is paved in humility, how many are stymied at entry by this essential lowering of self before His Presence? How many are held from the gates of heaven by their overwhelming talent at opening the broad gates that lead directly into the gates of Hades and the Lake of Fire? Pitied of Praised?

What is it that they wish to see when viewing this one submission? First, it must hint at being written for them, about them or for the purpose of intriguing interest. Then it must capture or ignite some instance of imagination telling them that magic lurks internally. Then reading on, the secrets must be revealed as if predicatively came from a intrinsic knowledge of their internal desires, unshared facts or dreams they have already had but kept to themselves for fear of exposure.

For a blog to be about someone else when published from one’s own imagination or daily inspiration it must either be tremendously canny, born of human similarity swamped in luck or be from beyond the realm of individual cognition. Forgive magic is always another explanation but being a Pastor I remain free from that which God hates. Certainly mistakes of words and deed may occur but with regard to sorcery, there truly is no mistaking it for holiness.

But let us not get off the subject of writing so that others will be captivated or allured with a daily blog to the point of commenting, reflecting or recommending some tiny bit of wisdom available in a random or regular visitation. I have none of these categories checked for this blog in its fifteenth year was launched out of the relationship with God and my desire to become closer through written discussion of occurrence, mistake, emotion and transformation by His Word and Spirit.

What then about the requirement to be popular and show them something that they have never seen before, something to wow their senses and keep them coming back for more? Well great question. What would God have me say to you that would convince you He wants you here for some revelation, purpose or communication? I haven’t the slightest, but now having raised the question I know that God will give me insights from your mind as He knows you implicitly.

So now that you have reached out to Him inquiring of the Sovereign Supernatural King who Created all of us, what will you do in the interim? Ponder, wait in good patience, perhaps pray to Him to reveal through me some answer to nagging question tossed about your thinking cap? I know this that He knows every word you ever said and are going to say in the entirety of this life’s existence. He knows your dreams, pains and expectations. but that is perhaps the least of what He knows.

He knows what you will become and how that will change you into someone who perhaps thinks entirely differently about this life you are leading. That is the mystery of relationship with God, for He alone knows why and for what purposes in resolution that He made you. That is the greatest proof that I can deliver as a vessel. Discussion of things I have no capacity to know about people I have never met and what they are do for the Kingdom that is yet to Come.

The wonder of God’s Word prophetically, is that He tells in advance what is going to occur that we may know that HE is outside of Time and that He is God your Father, My Father. So do I pray that you come to this blog and find something substantial just for yourself, especially since I am simply writing my love and investigation letters to God and His People. What will be shown that rings true to you that perhaps I don’t even know the gravity within the words I am writing.

We shall see, but the one thing that is assured we both will have to be here when that happens. Walk strong and be at peace in your own footsteps.

Left alone to reason. In concentric and ever greater circles reaching out for input. Resisting the judgment or qualification of data, simply sucking it up as sponge. Is regurgitation inevitable? Does storage medium always reach capacity?

The Ones they love me and the zeros want escape. Transfigured anomalies in space. What then to believe myself capably inclined? Is every man’s childhood dream of hero, to be worshiped by those wishing for adolescence as clearly prime?

Evoking nothing, catalyzing everything, Leaving no stone alone and no leaf yet blown. That is alone. To poke holes into flexible universe just appearing there, here without the process, porch or swinging rope. Hope, bottle released.

The notes I read and sang weren’t thought out or written and murmured in impressible darkness. Shields thrown down for lack of fear or threat, perceived or beyond range of sensory measure. I knew the rhyme and we spoke privately.

Into the angles and refracted light traveling before thought or projected analysis could even imagine the feelings of stroked egos. Nothing doing something in the middle of indifference. Aspirations expired before they were formed preceding thought.

Back again, never left, but something is different. What then is written at the top of the stairs? Can you see the bends, mends and understand how it so offends man and beast alike? Some cosmic plasma of ether with tiny hands and worry.

It doesn’t fit the soft-shoe bit, repelling gum from wool or oil from platen. We are a hopeful stain on tapestries yet woven. To hang like starlight painted on the underside of time. Inventing the ways from here to there piercing the impervious.

Betrayal is the worst pain. My betrayals of God, of my Family, friends and neighbors. Those close to me in their blatant betrayals of me and then on top always saying that I somehow deserved it. I have no control over our collective betrayal of the Lord in our sin and self-service but it breaks my heart that we remain flippant in this the worst of slights.

God doesn’t see it the way I do and I am seeking first to understand and then be understood. All sin is a betrayal when He has given us everything. Take for example my own beloved nation or the nation of Israel, both blessed beyond compare, in the Presence of His Holy Spirit and yet always seeking to escape to serve the lusts of our eyes, mind, Flesh.

Sin is always Mortal. Jesus views my anger at my Brother without reason as Murder. Knowing this then unforgiveness perhaps is similar in reprehension? The greatest betrayal were always those who had made a vow or had a familial duty of trust that had to be shredded, forgotten or lied about in order to commit the sin of betrayal so hard to forgive.

I am humbled in this life to even be considered; Brother or Friend, no less an example or Pastor to those seeking closer relationship with Christ Jesus. I have a duty of trust and when I break that even for a moment my bones cry out in pain. I is excruciating all self inflicted through disobedience, betrayal and breaking that bond of trust that somehow makes it worse.

What has stricken in this nation and in Israel that we arduously seek the greatest offenses possible against God and our Neighbor? Why when we have it all, everlasting life in short repair? Especially those sins of the body that are so wicked that we invest our own flesh into commission and omission negating any method by which we may project responsibility.

God just wants obedience and Faith in Him. To me that sounds truly hard but having seen the litany of mistakes on my docket I have very little difficulty trusting Him over my own judgment. Yes, being obedience requires discipline and the power of the Holy Spirit to accomplish, but knowing the pain of betrayal personally ironically makes it easier to avoid.

I pray the Lord sends me a flare each time an opportunity for escape is presented and that I express no hesitation in running through that portal immediately. For that may be the only way to avoid offending God and Man, my greatest aspiration in this world and the Next. In Jesus Name.

Shall I say it’s a tremendous day? Offhand laughter from fourth row section two. How about you the sublime actor, combining effort, talent and spending precious coins of time on both our behalves?

What seamless dangers can you point out, with ample time, rudder turn and engine repair to keep us safe from jagged cliffs? What threatens each eye? Are they alive or just appear hungry mouths?

The joy of swimming for my life, chuckling at the outstretched arms of fate seeking my eternal embrace. This is not fear, nor shredded courage displayed by those who have yet known defeats.

What quiets the blood pounding echoes in the cavities of mind and hope? Are men so ready to depart that they count this hurried exit reward? Is it a walk beyond the skies of mind and man we tread?

This day the winds escapes my will to hold it within my breast, whether sink or rise the will to do either has been taken from my controlling hand. My arms reach toward surface but my heart seeks crevasse.

Oh what superhuman traits have this man who mastered only slumber or perhaps shameless rebellion against perfect suggestion? All counted regret and doubt with a grin one mile wide.

Forsake the froward inclination to tell off everyone who dragged me from water’s edge. Instead my heart it wished to sing projecting lungs full of water on my benefactors. I dreamt again of life.

A jawline and tongue made for speaking more than I ever wished or planned to utter. Silence would be infinitely preferred. Yet how does a man relay the Gospel, a man not preaching to those deaf, only those who have hard hearts and selective hearing? This is a duty and privilege of God’s Love for both of us, to speak what must be said in time for a unique decision, the greatest example of love this or any world has ever known.

I am sorry to pester but if that bugging produces a positively reflection, meditation and result of your remembering your kinship to God and being redeemed to Throne Room and family then I will gladly be the buzzing beetle. I would much prefer to set an example that you may readily equate with someone bound for heavenly outcome but alas I am a representative prone to the plight of persistent imperfection. So I must roar above the din to be heard.

Or so one thought when he purchased electronic megaphone never fully grasping the breadth and depth of Spirit’s Perfect marketing. So I rail and offend and apologize again in hope that in this exchange of my physical limitation that someone hears. Again, never quite grasping that a small quiet voice is infinitely more productive then the greatest of impassioned shouting. The things that man believes he must achieve escape all reason.

Please look upon me not with pity but accepting my over share as insecurity or misunderstanding. I am not your critic and would actually revile any attempt to capture me in the pondering eye of those who have left their own perspective to critique the world on its imperfection. We know from every relationship between woman and man that this position starts out as loser and rapidly decays into theft of death of any love that may have existed.

Yet today I see the horizon beyond the storm seeking its concealment. We know that when God sets a time limit it may be beyond our current resolution, but as all His Promises and answers are Yea, then we must prepare, prepare, prepare and no that somewhere in that distant unseen future is the bell calling us to decision. Just as the bell calls to prayer it also declares that this side of our death we have been imbued with command to make choice.

Therefore, even if impassioned, too emotional or inadequately possessing the skill and talent to deliver a Divine Message, He still calls me to that delivery. So this day, I sing of Joy in a heart that soon will see everlasting and loves dearly the Glorious Appearing to call all to be ready for God’s reception of the Living. Whether this be my last day I will preach as if it has come for who knows that moment when we will be called to the hereafter.