Wherever God leads, I go. Not out of the power or fear of command though a frightful thing, but out of joy and love for a tremendous Father. It is now or never. Anyone stating that they want to know God’s Will for their lives and subsequently ignoring, avoiding or quenching the direction of His Holy Spirit is a liar. So many walk along wanting the abundant Christian life and then immediately say, “I am not going to do that” when confronted with the convicting/leading voice of Spirit. How else do we expect to arrive at a place as a person we’ve never met knowing fully that we had no idea where or how to get there?

Yes, I am in my lane. Regardless of the mean and unforgiving spirit ruling your heart. However, my lane is as narrow or specific as God wishes. I own very little. The love I have for you weeps at your apparent lack of self-reflection and the bitterness in your core. Do great things for the Glory of God Almighty. No matter what He counsels. I pray for flight.

It is with great joy I sing, play or write in rudimentary fashion, for these actions are not to secure my own glory but to declare my love of God. Just as a new born babe or growing child, I have little regard for measures outside of legal, mathematical or musical law. For I no longer live by the law but by the grace and joy of the off key notes I offer for His hearing. If perchance, my efforts are found adolescent or foolish in your sight, then I thank you for seeing me that unrehearsed child simply in love with his Dad.

Please find the skinny path that leads to the Cross and enjoy the time with Father. May your investments always be fruitful, your provision timely and sound and your growth immeasurable by the eye of man. Whatever faults, mistakes or sins I have committed have been repented and decades ago apologized. Continuing to hold a man to account for actions of childhood when God’s Grace is sufficient, is inconsistent with Christian practice and understanding. I am sorry that I have hurt people, sorry for the horrible man that I once was, but I am no longer that person and your efforts to keep me in the mold are worldly at best and challenge God’s Direction to forgive and forget as He has done for each of us. I do not know the personal drives or hurt that cause such behavior but I have apologized and repented of anything I may have done in trespass. A man may not forgive the hurt of another man’s heart. He may only ask attempt reparations and then move on when unforgiven.

I am proud of what you have accomplished. I have no judgment of your behavior nor desire to make comment upon your walk with God. However, you have instructed I remain in my lane and by your own pronouncement that is what I am doing, following God’s anointing for this life. Thank you for accepting the burden of unforgiveness. I would ask that you take those bricks in your pack and lay them before God’s throne taking back His wonderful peace. In Jesus Name be blessed and ready for His Return.

It is practical to seek peace, while continually denying the relentless truth that men have never wanted or pursued it dissolves the possibility of its empirical observance. Throughout history men in authority and women of power have sought to consume, ingratiate and broaden their wealth, power and self-glorification instead of achieving lasting peace. Certainly Rome and other empires have proclaimed an “Age of peace” only to expand, aggress and subsume those aspired lands, treasures and peoples. It is a ruse when men of political or military fortitude call for peace never once expressing true intention of maintenance to the same.

What do I want if not the solitude of personal and family living to develop a routine consistent with higher thought, relaxation and growth? We all seek money and leverage to build a life that allows some measure of safety and freedom to embrace the better things of life. Seldom are war, rape, theft, murder and dominance listed among those desired qualities of the good life of advanced societies. However, in silence we consistently see historically these outcomes are the most likely achieved. The quiet, aspirant and advance life is seldom found which may be partly because we fail to study history and in so doing see that men have always sought dominion.

Though many liberal idealists cry or wax philosophic regarding a general collective love and regard for the masses, even the Christian Leadership has stolen, pillaged and smitten all having the unfortunate opportunity to test their declaration of wanton peace. We generally want to believe ourselves righteous, but when our behavior and works are reviewed we find a hypocritical allegiance to the same self aggrandizing plans of tyrants. Sure we label those small few as “Saints”, either self proclaimed or given titles by the organization that so desperately crave itinerant models of their piety. However, the veil removed they were rarely even marginally better people than their predecessors.

This is a time of rational self-reflection mandatory to practical lifestyle. The simple art of living may not be achieved without first having honestly embraced the availability and necessary character analysis. If I am to be a good man then I need to commit to living according to a model of those good who have gone before me. Or my allegiance to ambition is only imaginary. Therefore, living a good life demands that observance of previous achievement by those I would obviously admire or esteem. Since, history is rife with those who have done wrong with rare indications or documentary of men of righteousness, then we must demand to be shown such model as may be followed. Who do you submit as such model?

There will be no lasting or real peace on Earth until the return of Christ. Therefore, the Bible indicates when men declare, “Peace, Peace, Peace destruction will come” Why would this be the truth? It is clear that men have fooled or outright lied about the possibility and the desire for peace. They say they want it but pursue war, chaos and oppression of the vulnerable and innocent. It is clear that they are using this general global peace longing as a deceptive lure to manipulate the continual conquest of man’s longing. So, in the ultimate slander of the cry for peace they will repeatedly call for its implementation fully recognizing without acknowledgement that they never wanted it and neither had intention or capacity to produce it. The Prince of Peace is coming and those who falsely proclaimed its arrival will desperately seek to hide from His accountability for eons of dissemble.

There’s talk of escape. Sneaking out the back, down the mountain pass. To land’s of hope and joy. No burdens remaining. As we adjust our eyes to the bright celebratory light. Sometimes I weep until sleep reluctantly embraces my shame. All the while finding home for my significant suggestions. Having gained access to favor. Washed in the candor of remade success. Yet, as the will to find relief surrounds a call to stand in good courage appears right.

Mention of mindfulness and avoidance. The painful ideas of yesteryear that stymied the best of men are lain down for pursuit of promise. What does this abundant day possess? How will sense of bounty reduce our collective fear? Have we gone as far as forgetting our open wounds such that they are now immortal scars of passage? Beset my youthful wings that I may traverse the universe, handling imagination as the real foundation and likelihood of ebullient song.

Oh stand in chorus our jubilant hearts or kneel in the quietest moments of God’s quickening Hand. Far too frequent to forget and woefully short to remember. Hand in mine I twirl for the girl and bow to my neighbor as hands aloft we parade toward a faithful end. Redeemed, no more war with sovereign command and less regard for expectation. In peaceful gain we salute those who have fallen to the awe and wonder, making way for the young to sing a new melody with bursting heart and voice.

Waylay the sullen, somber woes of hearts stricken by disorder, chaos and plunder. From under the pillow pull a single silver sovereign. Child’s play and parent’s prank to keep the hope of youth upon their visage. We are free from the frozen counsel and hearts in ice. Atoning for nothing but contrite to the might upon us. Wanting to be free but never having known the power, promise and perfection associated with surrender. We devise new plans hoping to make our way to King’s audience.

Into the blue of expansive sky we plunge, never wanting the tether to draw us back to mount. To stay alight forever harmonizing with the light and poetic dawn. All memories expelled but that which brought first smile. Relieved and breathed anew. Born of heavenly seed forever. What day shall hold us tight when the night is drawn asunder? Who will count us lost when we are found written plainly in the Hand of Saving Grace? What look of gold shall shine from face and sail proclaiming the race is won, the anchor cast off the seek and be found by eternity?

Eyeing tomorrow from penchant angle, so specific it targets and elucidates the caverns of hidden mind. When viewing future or concocting revisionist history the pen wobbles until righted by allegiance to perspective ambition.

What felled towers remain, embraced by the brasos of belief? Kept aloft by the struggling foundations of ill pent wishes and yearned-for objectives. When children begin the lie it is perpetuated and made perfectly immobile in adulthood.

Can dreams sustain dissemble? Can empty fist slake blatant hunger for that which is right? Where will the false reams of evidence be stored to counsel those left famished? Into relief none perish as the heart of truth feeds all.

Bravo!, chimed the petulant. Dancing in streets aflame with the remnants of God’s continued blessing, given as sacrifice to the imaginary projection of trans-humanism. What artificial thought may cover the bruises and riven persona?

Oh air to wings bent and folded beneath the weight of man’s folly. Laughing in hilarity at the advice and wisdom offered. We stand alone, bereft of territory, hope and purpose, as the waters of splintered men beckon us to mammalian failure.

Easy to see. The bright colors of her heart. Looking faithfully at tomorrow. Not weighed down by the world. Walking simply in the breezy afternoon. So full of nice things to say about you.

Remarkably forgiving. When so many would fight for empty ground. Taking things in stride. Open wide to find the witness she once borrowed. Telling tall tales of peace, hope and love.

Remembering all that we’d forgotten. Of motorbikes and cotton clouded skies. The false reasons twisted our agenda. And we once again found footing in fields so freshly mowed.

No more lies to sell or surrender. Open season for the warmth of waiting pies. To delight in pleasures of each moment. Giving up the fearful spate of jealous eyes. We hovered nearby.

In glory we found purpose. In dreams we ransomed all our doubt. Always forward no more time for minds to wonder. Investing in reason we released the power of undaunted words.

Proclaiming she’d made happy, the plans she’d concocted in sad moments. Relinquishing the footholds of our enemies. We found relief. And pleasure once again spoke our names.

The size and shape of honor. The character to reach beyond each star. Codify the misgivings of our wisdom. Taking twain as we skirted jubilation. Soaking tears in rain.

The helical whisper. Sage and brooms of dandelion brush. We smelled the wind for answer. All the while infrequent in our pester. Leaving room for hearts and minds to author change.

It is not as simple as you project. Far less complex. You would like to discuss rage, no waging wars when peace the objective and perspective. See fury only goes until all else is consumed and one masters the aspects of freedom through the power to compel action and reaction. Where the products of love resolve there is always a twist, unexpected miracle and mystery beyond the base spirit of domination.

It is not the time to for towels to be thrown, but stance, not filtered in fear or ambition, but endurance. These are not the days for long breathed sighs of disgust, remorse and regret. Moments of forgiveness, unbridled discussion of the things that are rights and worthy of discussion or right performance. Days of hope in waiting patiently for something beyond the standard will of man looking beyond the shroud of our own imperfection.

My ears swell with mortal cries of capitulation. Territories ceded and ground given as echos of character are disrobed to accept or settle the new resolution. What is left no longer union with higher thought or patient reliance on the things yet seen. It is not evidence we seek but a certain knowledge of those with belief beyond the power of single eye witness, but collective and individual understanding that there is always a space beyond our thinking.

Both sides believe themselves correct. Though one willing to look at problems beyond self-resolution. Our territories marked and labeled, so fearful of lost stature, label or painted pride. So colorful yet grey in the sadness of inflexibility. So destitute in the lacking hope of promise. Promise given in oaths beyond the power of flesh and magical sequence. We stand to reach outside the realm of what our words deem possible.

Limits, self imposed or stacked by social standing. The simple quest of sinlessness compounded and reinforced by my yearning for all things foul. What lands reside beyond the river of my self reluctance or surrender? What levers employed when using the weapons of godly understanding. Too small to stand so tall against giants of mystery and complex wonder. I resolve to do the least of things with the greatest possibility of evolutionary outcome.

In the eye of my mind. Small symbols and large places. Walking until tired, I remembered to look into the needs of those wondering. Following the lights I found my way into the end of darkness. Shaking hands with midnight it felt good to think about the coming of dawn. In pleasure we discussed the treasures of our founding and walked the windows into yesteryear.

Some days the colors are the most important. Some nights its the whispers, quick thinking and songs that light the shadows. Keep some of it away. For it is good when boundaries are consistent and respected. Farming is a discipline of wakefulness, good health and a sound understanding of provision for tougher times. Songs stand out when sung in the flickering light of bonfire.

Weakness. Strength being shape in the rock house of today. Footfalls and linear scope, putting all things in to perspective from the barrel of randomness. By next week we will want to remember and fail to recall what we expected to be unimportant moments. Feeling sick for sec. Looking to the stars I remembered how wide it all is and sat down to ponder how small I really am.

Perhaps, this is the day that find the gateway to inevitable freedom. Perhaps this is my second to last breath. Taken. Not found without sound and trumpets flaring in the parapets of Heaven. I reached for the unreachable and found that it was always within my grasp as long as I asked God for provision. I promised silence to the day after and it reminded me after hearing me bellow at the night.

Some things were made to be left alone. Especially in the thoughts of children. Walking with the philosophers having that age old argument and the foundation of man’s floundering will. We point the sky and think that some how we made it because we can see it shine and shimmer above. I have no such self delusion but know that deep within my DNA, heart and mind God exists waiting for me to be ready.

Most things don’t matter in retrospect. People. Wishes, hopes and expectations are electives. There is no end to a man that hungers for forever. Keeping it in reserve is great, pragmatic, until the car breaks down and fuel festers.

The end feels like the beginning. Agitation. Promises must be reviewed in their keeping. Are you nervous about the test you must take whether passed or otherwise? Remember, life lived in abundance demands some measure of failure.

Looking, East for weather and signs of movement. Transformed, blown by the breezes of passions beyond my own admonition. It heals and no one knows the restoration until limbs employed. Seeking wisdom where none has been found.

Use it and find peace in the sighs of expiration. Fumes, tombs and brooms, all blown away by the hand of time. There is nothing but love which extends a heart to eternity. In the quiet words, adoration lingers. Touching tomorrow’s edge.

Not what it or I once was. Remembering the pulled teeth of my own resistance without condemnation. Into the next day I wondered, plundered and bumbled. Tossing about grand swelling words hoping to change the tides of my fate.

One seeks home, whether in the weeds and blood of battle or the calm smooth waters of the garden pond. These are the days for which we prepared and lingered. Finding the rough pebbles touch memories of a world that came to pass.

No Stop in me. Gone, the boundaries and gates imposed. Wind through the trellis. To flight, no right or left but onward to where dreams become the stuff of experience. When hope meets tear and laughter meets to turned up corners of smile. All the while, refraining from entertainment of just reason. For there are powerful words rolled up in emotion and tests.

Don’t keep the wings awaiting. Let loose the wicked and the good to work out parameters of glory. Ensued, imbued, renewed. Filled with the things that swallow up time and expiration. All the while, facing scenes from nightmare’s cancelled in the joys of moments present. To the edge, not kneeling or peering over at valley’s beyond. Beyond is the bastion we seek.

What if you knew you could have ten more when stewardship considered? Pestering voices in the back of mind’s eye. Blinking to let the streams of universe yet solvent, flow into the containers they’d been given. You’re candid about willingness to imagine a universe without the God who made it and you. Don’t get lost in the annals and labyrinth of your wounds.

Too close to estimate the dungeons collapsed speak volumes to the prisoners found freedom. We sought rest, while forgiveness, promise and hope were handed out. Too extreme to consider that perhaps we don’t know everything. A little while and we remember our fondness for consideration of the absurd. Relinquishing control of the lured masses.

I did not mean to stamp toes, add burden or set hearts aflame in anguish. Rather to lead them to burst into fire themselves at the joy of seeing the mystery resolved. Before them there was no one who doubted in acquiescence. For our Fathers prepared our hearts in their disobedience to Sovereign. We have known correction and find it becoming.

What is right but that which guides hearts to stand against any obstacle? Declaration, admonition, posture or promise. Defense of the untenable or complacency to pain and suffering of those unprotected. What backbone, defying the logic of self-protection or preservation to demand no advances? What warns or wills a man to stand against the fury forces of the dark to deny them access or control over those innocents who would otherwise be overrun and underwritten in victor’s history and retelling of revision?

We live in pregnant moments of the world’s rebirth by the Will and influence of our Sovereign Creator, God. Lying down, milling about or standing with feet planted upon the immovable, Rock of Ages, is the choice calling each of us. What ground is under your boots? Will you be moved forward to stand against the crushing wave and fear of dominion? Or be found written in the Lamb’s Book of Life, filled with the power that created and established all things? What voice speaks to you in desperate moments?

Always forward the Cherubim pass. Why never retreat of feet or flight of wing to tender fealty to fear and resignation? What comes in confidence beyond the threat of harm or death? What price is paid to buy the hearts and mind of transformed man? What value the life of Sovereign, in forgiveness and acceptance of Faith? This is the joy we seek, yet deception leads us to greater promised wealth. What is worthy, worth more than the blood and breath of God, stepping into worldly dimension to fulfill the promised of eternal hope and love?

Where have the grip of my crimes departed? What shame is felt in dedication to the moments born before time for my feet to stand or flee? What is the promise of rebirth in the birth pangs we now enter? What day shall the dangerous things of the world depart leaving the children un-threatened to live out days too long to now foresee? Why did Methuselah die before millennia? For the length of life in a day is one thousand years before God. Do we yet have the mind shifting reason and tenure to stand against the dark of day when the light shown so clearly into night?

Are we to become the men that God breathed? Not men of valor born of angels mix in blood and rule. Men made by the heart of the Prince of peace. Not born to dominion or conquer but love for Him and them? What days shines before us? That we may find glory, not for self but for far greater purpose than one man serves in his own passing. We have been given grace for the taking. Not a future promise of transformation, power, hope and eternity. Now, is the day of my deliverance. Now I stand marshaled against against the things that threaten courage. This day I have been given to stand. I have been become the immovable object and the over whelming force of God to stand against ALL advances of evil. In His name.