New, heart repaired, life abundant and everlasting. The blue sky waiting a short walk beyond the treeline. Billowing clouds, chirps and no sound of rumbling thunder. The storms they will come but for now joy of the hope found in the renewing of a dream.

Crunching cones beneath well worn shoes that have made it through desert and stream. What a blessing to walk in the midst of welcome winds and sunshine on unburdened shoulder. Finding my way to places I never saw on the map’s edge.

Weakly perched yet stable against the prevailing winds of change. No more orange on black and midnight reasoning, left to admire the crystal blue and soft amber moon. These thoughts, no longer frightful investigate the envelopes written no delivered.

Seemingly from no where the smile interrupts. Capturing my face with the joy of children chuckling, during those moments when it is okay to just be a kid for awhile. Pale in comparison the shades of mystic wonder escape from a box of news yet told.

What shines through each dilemma? What hopeful words comfort those in trial as if those fears shall not be remembered. And Long ago we found somber paths that promised an end in peace. Wondering quite frankly what good thing would tomorrow bring.

The shores arrive too swiftly, not ready to depart or walk on sandy bottom, pants half wet to catch the cleat embarking. What courage may be found in leaving all known function to move the clanking metal parts and rusty buckets that promise the hereafter.

Yet, go we must as no shores may last forever only bid you discover the mystery of wandering seas and shining mountain. There are better things in the unknown than that which presents itself as the slumber aided rest of today extended.

To the elect there is great promise. Not simply of hope but the passions that abide in certainty. The buzz and biz of life’s dancing to distract us. And marble sholes the foundations of everlasting, whispering, bidding, tugging us to eternity.

Is your heart full of discontent? Are the circumstances disturbing your peace? How about your expectations list, does the world match/reflect the desires of your heart or a comfortable place in reality? When sitting alone is there constant analysis, worry or concern or does the Spirit of peace remain?

New age believers would have you find some electronic measure of destabilizing harmonies or spectrum analysis to explain away the mental malcontent. Are you running to any shelter of corrected frequencies in hope of blending with the Universe? Or are these times just strange and significantly out of whack?

No things are not right and for whatever reason all those around me regardless of Biblical Faith feel it, see it and recognize something is akilter. That is consistent with God’s Word that we all know that God is there having demonstrated Himself in all creaton so that none of us have excuse. It is our continued failure to acknowledge His Presence that is allowing Dominion to rise in expression of its temporary power.

What happens when you sit and focus upon the Word? Right. The differences are immediately palpable, discernible yet also absent those who do not have that established connection to the Throne Room, prayer and meditation upon His Word of Truth. Can you imagine how difficult and unsettled their hearts will become as we approach God’s Approaching Wrath?

This ministry is named the Path to Life in Aramaic, Jesus’ language for the purpose of immediately aligning believers and those seeking with the reason for our Hope. Christianity is not self help, but all the things outside of our own talent, treasure and personal power. The messes created by man cannot be fixed by man though science has convinced humanity otherwise.

Here is the greatest joy, it is already done. Yes there is a timeline for God’s unfolding plan but everything that really mattered for your salvation, peace and promise has been completed. “It is finished”, Jesus said immediately before He died on the Cross. For in death He took our sins into the payment that we could not complete, freeing us from the debt in His death for all who will believe.

What then inflicts my heart with a tinge of sadness as I walk through this world observing the hate, deception and terminal illness of man’s heart? It is a call to get right with God as if the smell of death and decay touches my nostrils with recognition of this world’s coming chaos. We face renewed call to stand in good courage finding the only real peace in Jesus, enduring in His Spirit to courageously stand against the wiles of Dominion.

The wonderful thing is we never have been nor will be alone in these tests of Faith and Courage. We have been sealed by God’s Holy Spirit of Promise against all the wiles of God’s enemies and the coming darkness. However, we were made to work while the light remains as the darkness of God’s Wrath against all wickedness approaches. None of wants to face that finality. None of has to and none of us will.

Renewal without reigns or stirrups trying my best to strengthen my legs and stay upon this animal. It is not hard to offer kindness to those who hate or despise me, it is truly impossible. This new saddle requires a re-calibration, things that were persistently done in the flesh must now be surrendered in order to bring into understanding. No more exhaustive attempts because they have been thoroughly proven foolhardy.

Why does the wind whirl so, forcing me to the right or left, is this the abrasive conditioning to venture solely onward as God expects? I am so sorry for those gifts that are no longer appropriate for large audience. Those of family are the only souls that may see the core of this heart. It is a blessing to trust those around you implicitly and cherish that some who know you welcome the chance to walk the same road.

So many positioning themselves as the only fruits of Christ Jesus. Lord I do not know about the salvation of other men, but mine is fearfully held within Your hands and will. I have no stomach for argument and even standing against the deception common to conversation turns my stomach, but the sheep matter more than my desires to remain aloof. I am thankful for the opportunity to participate and stand in Your Spirit.

Continue my training in love Lord. And let me step away without explanation or coarse word. They don’t owe me and I certainly don’t have to stand around waiting for the crows and vultures to pluck out my eyes and make me dinner. Father bring down those of Dominion who mean the vulnerable harm. Hide me protect me from Your Enemies that I may sneak up on them real close and sing Your Praises in advance.

Love has always been so precious because it is freely given and accepted. I want no more love with string or obligation. As Pastor let me give no advice except that which is truly meant to heal and edify. As Teacher and Preacher let the Word of Your mighty Love ring in each ear, heart and mind. Let them live free knowing that you have made it so for each of us. Whether man decides to spend eternity with You I commend to Your Loving Care.

To dust the Sun oh rolled up moon. In splinters the shattered plans and expectations of mankind. By God’s interest our folly removed. To think that my choices mattered in consequence as the honor and glory of Covenant revealed as Truth.

All man will have their character shown brightly in the dark of day. Lighting the way for the recovery or leaving souls to falter in the moist afternoon winds of failure. All men deliver or rebel. Finding their places in destiny or disharmony in the curse of death.

These dreams ask of your whispered intent. Far too long they have sailed against the wind and sands of time. Parked diligently in the reeds to watch as everything transpires in timely execution of what they think they were meant to be doing.

So strong the song of men giving all to see the young live free. More than sated their hunger for knowing that the right thing had been done. Not simply in choice or sought safety but the payment that makes all others dwindle in measure and comparison.

The brigand heart lost as something unsuitable for reason and maturity. No character lacking as provision made and protected by a heart that has been renewed. Not by time or pondering in deep vales of wine and pleasure but investment in eternity.

It always matters what lies ahead but not so much in fulfilled plans or expectation but rather mystery revealed by the aspirations of sovereignty and will beyond mine own. Leaving to I push the realms and bend the slopes of gravity and time to reach a place I perhaps had always known.

So brightly arrayed My King and My God. Never knew is something entirely unique, hues beyond understanding even outside the imagination of some finely honed soldiers. To deep wed passion, prayer and tearful experience knees may not withstand. Power and promise is revealed in the person for which I wait.

New Seasons burst forth from the collar relieved. Explosive relief, now sown to grow that which was meant for existence. Never embraced becomes a child’s melodious verses, caught by silent crowd in revelation of dawn beyond any event’s horizon. Displayed for all eyes that would perish in their waiting.

Quest, already best even in my elegant squaller. Cleansed unmended wounds yet already set to healing promise and scarred memory. These are the itchy times of man’s discomfort, caught in unreadiness with no self-righteous protection’s withdrawn. What embrace will show me the peace for which all men clamor?

Feet of burnished bronze equal to my quivering strength to open. Touched and directed to stand asunder in the cast of castaways. It is another gift by reflection this unloving touch by humanity as they cannot bring themselves to be gathered in His Arms Awaiting. So inclined to pause in the welcome of forever.

Too many miles to say what should have already been spoken. Awoken to the smiles, only memories long ago cast aside. Creating universes where my luck is never broken and wishes melt under clouds that warm the afternoon mood.

Too long a dupe. Dependent on pride or an unqualified imagination. Cheered up by thinking of someone else sitting by this poolside, enjoying the rays and spray as children frolic in the shallows. Oh what relief to sorrow that things are this brightly arrayed.

Joy to meet the brigands and the folly, dressed in amber hues to coax the suspect to obedient. What elevated thoughts these expressions of valor and collusion. Sacrificing the nonsense spent on reflection for the stark contrast of changing heart.

Too few the august moments of tepid relief and air hinting of the cinnamon crispness of mornings well-wept. Sweeping under the mind’s firmament any respect for time and chance, relegating all power, passion and prayerful extension to restoration.

Too soon for promised redemption, too late to escape the leeching tides mooring me to quickly to reason and wishes of better luck. Times passed express the futility of fantasy and the small, timid kiss of childlike expression.

Too many steps to a dance well beyond my keeping in times that twist more than waiting ankle. This is always the game of who cuts deepest and first knowing there is no recovery from the cruelty of well equipped anguish.

Joy so plenty, chalice full at last toasting. We see the ghosted and the temple’s grey to remind us that someone was taken from the battle’s field. Whether we liked it or not the maneuvering and candor are displayed for good upon the brows and elbows.

What is Spirit’s pleasure having led this man again to put down the script of young man’s venture. Everlasting it echos in the increasing depth of memory and master. Look again, now in the tempered glass eyes of a man who knows the absolute Joy of decision.

Nothing in reserve, including unforgiveness. Hope for all and plenty to fill the stores, bandage all the sores and open up all the doors on a new horizon of promise of the King’s return. There is nothing to hold us back, no dominion in lordship, no cages born of our own lust no regret from resources ill-directed. These are the days when God’s Name shall be exalted and ours included in the roster of His Family.

What sprouts find the afternoon sun without the waters of life and a programmed understanding of what it is to bear fruit? Where is this home we pursue, what buildings, farms or encampments present themselves with the sound and promise of belonging? How many kind words reserve themselves in memory to acquaint the unknown, to welcome lost friends or to bid encouragement to those lost in the weight of lost struggle?

Where have we gone from whence we may not return? What days are truly lost even those of my worst performance. Very little matters but to honor the gift of grace and never fail to consider the heart and reverent requirements of God. Look I didn’t make anything simply manipulating the elements of a life prepared for me, rearranging the known to accommodate our comfort or need. Perhaps God made me clever and inventive that this might occur?

You will do great things. Simply put, it will be measured as you measure to God. He knows what you can do and will be glorified even if you don’t because my friend He provided you the opportunity, the gifts and the fire only you may provide the obedience. I do not look fondly when I am forced to recognize failure as choice. I detest seeing you deflated as enemies rejoice at your depression. These are the days for great success, we live in the moments of the Holy Spirit’s presence, God with us. Who can leave them wasted or fail to see the significance and possibility?

I don’t own much and that is good for each time I see my barns bursting I find that worry, obligation and covetousness arrive. Why when I have so much do I fail to give more away? There is some oddness of man’s heart when there is too much. I love giving away plenty, yet when there is too much the scarcity mentality comes with it and the beasts of comfort bid me sit a while and rest. All while there is more work to do in this era than ever before and perhaps ever will be. What are we do when the King arrives if we’ve done little to prepare for that glorious arrival?

Time to lay it out, dice it up, label it and know what must go and that which was made to reside. My preparations are not to win some argument or convince myself that what I have done is sufficient but the one chance to right the conversation I most anticipate, the discussion with my Saviour on that Glorious day. I am sorry if I fell short at any man centered expectations, please take it up with the King. I do so apologize in advance for my lost chances at being held in your high regard. It would be nice to get things right.

Can you recover in the sight of self, tricking you, controlling you, making you do things to destroy the gifts God disburses? What nasty little game conjures sponsored pains for seemingly no reason whatsoever? How does the grand play work itself out in the repeat of the same scenario ad infinitum?

Do you dance quickly to the whispers and music played out by swarming sirens and saints? What relief found in the maze, each corner turned a darker secret labored? How many sons and daughters have found their ruin only to be left standing alone at the dais of the self-service? Alone, victoriously tired.

Expelled the dreams and pleasures ventured. Lined up on the mantle of self-resolve seeking solutions seldom found per venture. What beasts have coddled my addled understanding, mollified, vilified in sadness the reasons found in history? Oh calls to greater men than I to find my way through this villainy.

What priests to random goddess sacrifice my mourning? What hope of emerging on the other side of the written realm of folly and missed comprehension? My head pounding for relief yet none in the spells of darkened hearts found reason. I am captured by my own prison though I scream for freedom.

How do wills and wiles join in converging education? Revealing things that gossip spoke and lords and ladies prattled. Brothers, Sisters caught in the folds of their own folly. Playing part handed out in times beyond our review. What path may wind it way to confidence, stealing back what had been pilfered?

This is my own undoing. Never knowing the timing or the words and seldom finding them together upon the same annals of self-reading. Alone to be useful for no one but the King, but in responding to that leading finding the good that would escape my will and power to recall before the throne room.

Tools may not think, reasoning for themselves the best path forward and fools have lesser opportunity. Being both or neither I flounder for ocean bottom with two eyes pointed skyward feeling for rock and sand beneath me. Only finding mud and waters never ending, I lumber on to midnight in forgotten orientation.

The argument for solutions always battles the necessary time and the fear of waiting. Higher the potential impact whether life threatening, simple nuisance or solution to inconvenience, we are in this world governed and ushered through life by fear and time. Most dreams are never fulfilled simply due to the fear of the over reaching it takes to achieve them or never having enough extra time to figure out how to get there.

What if this were not the only illusion in successfully navigating our existence? What if time is simply a construct to get us to finish the race with some manner of intention, knowing that if we had eternity from the git go we would never feel the urge to finish well? What must I be afraid of, especially expecting fully an eternal existence serving God? What manner of fear may this life generate that would cause me angst or worry?

The trap looms as we venture into the known space of our own limited control in the construct of creation and space. The longer we dawdle, somehow expecting to outsmart the maker and find a rabbit hole around the maze the greater the gravity upon a person. As we approach the last go around, the last quarter or a perceived cycle headed toward an end we are forced to demonstrate some manner of logic or abandon.

I have enough, in fact I have always had more than enough to experience life, learn and meet the rare people God has placed in my journeys. I don’t fear an exit, though there are concerns about a proper departure where things are tidy, but generally there is little fear associated with the timing or manner. Certainly one must govern a fear of pain or messy experiment of passing on and take steps to prepare for departure.

What then have time and fear to do with love? Can we never get enough of love to satisfy our quest to be welcomed in this world and remembered? In fact, apparently the greater we try to grab love the more elusive it becomes, slippery fish that expectation. What then is the proper amount of love that should be shown each human? Especially when some have so little they would deny even scraps to the least of us?

I want the time and to control the fear, as it is self conceived to love everyone I meet as much as I may possibly love them. I don’t mean the sexual connotation or definition of love but the appreciation, acknowledgement, acceptance that God wishes us to give each person. I will have the time to edify them in their Creation by God, acknowledging the gifts of purpose they will use to bring Glory to that Making.

What fear is real? Maybe none, but for me that begins with reverence and its duty to respect those things for which I am grateful. I fear God for just as He was the only one to give me life, He has always been the only one who could provide forgiveness, Love, provision and protection.

But that Love in my heart extends beyond my fear of time and the shortness of life. I appreciate what He has planned for me after this, but I love Him so much that just being part of the entire demonstration of His Will has always been more than enough. Therefore, My fears are solely governed by making Him sad by the things I do or don’t, the things I say or don’t, the thoughts I have or don’t and the Love I give or don’t.

I am sorry for being such a simple man that I failed to love you greatly. I am sorry for giving in to some fear of emotional pain that I failed to love you the way He would have bid me. I am sorry for using time as an excuse to not say, do, think and love you the way for which my Father would have been proud. I don’t fear having the time or the skill to do it right, I fear the time I will have to explain to Him why I didn’t when I could.

Are we done? Have we given in to evil or tasks yet beyond our power to achieve? What is the price for taking on things above self? Is it really God’s Will that all will come to the knowledge of the Truth, finding salvation in Jesus? I never could becomes I never can.

If I am to believe upon the impossible tasks of Spirit then why have I placed faith in my own ability to deliver those things solely within His grasp? Worse yet, why have I lost faith in something for which I never could deliver and in the Spirit’s ability to do the impossible?

Is this the hole I have dug for self or must God bring me into self-failure before I may truly believe? Has my hope always been invested in my impermanence? Am I equal to or above God failing to acknowledge His sovereignty and suffering the failure of faith?

I have seen the river’s divide between bride and her waiting Groom. She dawdles and prattles tending her ministries never once listening of awaiting the filling of power, hope and fealty for the King. When will her lamp be full? When will she be urgently waiting for the Trump?

Why would God bring tribulation upon His beloved? Right. Necessary for there is simply no other path to our conversion. He knew, He always knew we would not listen until all options seemingly removed. What does that say of the seemingly faithful, never believing or placing faith in self?