Some things may be honed through preparation. Intrinsic items of skill, talent and gifts are often spiced by drive, desire and trust. While intelligence and a penchant, heart of goodness may provide the forensic lever to intimate perfection.

Judgment not in my grip, my circulation depends upon the courage of loving anticipation. Imagination the key to discovery, may each of us find those colors, dimensions and time to invent those things only found in Creator’s making.

Failure, never the assumption of our identity, looking to light internal or found eclipsing horizons. Recover our roots of growth toward immortality. What seeds are planted, what harvest renewed and what stakes reveal each boundary?

Our last hope defines the leverage in endurance, patience the asset least viewed as cipher to our coding. Replenished and renewed how pliant our inclusion to confidently prune that which grow to foster our remaking?

Remind me why I pursued with vigor to surpass those with whom I traveled? Leadership is not haphazard, misunderstanding that care and service are talent inclined to mastery. One success at the altar of self denies limitless celebration through encouragement.

Never meant to be alone, though hearts, voices and dance oft dissimilar. In the harmony, dissonance and discord, union is born of tastes, flavor and rhymes never tested for composure. The test our greatest colleague we grow tender to the core.

Overlooking, ignoring or simply avoiding the use of power to accommodate the well oiled pathway to personal preference is our greatest shame. We sit and cast aspersion upon all others who prevail through trickery, cleverness and bold, unclean living and then eschew the greatest available blessings in man’s history, simply because we are complacent, complicit and afraid of our own shadow. Go along to get along is the motto of men who have sold their birthright for a bowl of stew.

We wonder why miracles avoid us and the plagues always seem to find a home in our families. We run from opportunities to share real investment of love, thinking it weakness, when the truth of power is the loving dissemination of benefits without return on investment. Not that there is none but we fail to recognize or sans the ability to see the spiritual benefits fail to register that these are the greatest works. And we count the coin before doing anything of adventure with worldly perspective.

These are the days of eternal life, yet we unwittingly live in temporary authority misunderstanding what it truly means to have been born again of heavenly seed. New creatures born again to do the works of angels and men remade. We go out into the world ashamed at our poverty when our Father owns everything and makes it available to those who simply put aside their selves and serve His objectives. Eternal objectives, set aside for men who know they face life everlasting. Doing things beyond ourselves.

I no longer seek performance outcomes that I may perfectly display the ribbons, degrees or medals that will leave an established in the pond from whence I came. Miracles were made for me to bring into this world that all will not see nor perhaps even remember me but God they will see and never forget. That is the great reward of redemption. Born again to live for my Father, that I am free from the laundry list of mistakes I will certainly find in marking time until the real round and bell sound. Born of impoverished thinking and misperception. As this is the life already to those who waited.

Declarations, setting boundaries, personal, political, promissory or prophetic. Not projection, endowed with whatever authority of the moment or duration may be mustered to sustain liberty. Power, not simply required but endemic to the reality of enforcement.

Decisions, choices made, reasoning, emotion, belief, rhetoric or insanity bias. Gift incumbent to freedom, even the moments of loosened chains, slackened torture or second lung full. Care not given to endorse, enhance, promote or encourage that philosophy.

Buffer, ether, space, medium, plasma, blood, air or water. Operate, within the context of container. To utilize the mandate of either popular or intrinsic demand in regulating a territory. Not beyond the aura of personality but managing the power within.

Nastiness, flavor, context, taint, perfume, odor or maleficence. The cinnamon to rose or feces to platter, strained, guarded, screened, filtered or banned by the waving of hand, banner or tapestry. Restoring the doctrine of purity to that which is governed.

Plumbing, fresh versus adapted, fungus, bacteria, thinking, rumination or greed. Polluted harvest promotes the unwell. Doctrines will always be diminished when mixed, alloyed, augmented, tempered, not always to softness but absent those origins.

I am what I am becoming. Absent strict review. Each of us will be what we have collected from air, land and sea. What may be simply washed clean, forgotten or remembered does not threaten Corporal cognition. The body must remain unpoisoned.

Yet, none know, even the smelling fails, that chaff will always gain entry. That is our dilemma. This world sticks, inflicts, joins, indwells, weeds and inserts. Protection found in Spirit or defensive posture only temporary until measure or modification.

There must be a day of removal, extraction, filtering, separation or a process by which that is maintenance to the machine. Impurities unseen, biologic, microscopic, injected, assaulting, vehicular, blood or ingested must be banned, removed, siphoned.

Purity is not a game elitists play alone. Power is maintained in being set apart. Proclaiming the danger of mixing with either perceived, indifferent or collective. For none truly know the innocence of their making. Remaining, revival, refreshment and supply.

Death is either beginning or permanence to continue on corrupted path or sure footing and growth. The cancers of the mind are the most dangerous for they provide the only personal protection from the white flags of septicemia, shock and shutdown.

Knowing not the topography or fluidity of heaven. Confronted with the concrete pastures of Earthly conjecture. This epoch governed by constraint of timely barrier. The reality is the construct or new jersey minder to keep on a path to destination yet determined.

To God or the sediment fields of carbon cycling, either will free the essence of this man. One to slavery in the mechanisms of sewage collection, fires and bogs of being held in status inescapable the other to that which may only be defined in mind beyond my own.

One knee beside the cackling brook. Buzzing, birds and misspoken words. Regret is doing it right, without cues, reminders or stand in. Laughing as I recall the reason for the Spring and Fall. Fading with the silent sun. The only word, uttered One.

Stars, lonely in ungrateful blue. Working hard to see through the eyes of wiser men. Twelve dozen unafraid, stood watch near the weeping willow. Swagger as realms forgotten and the strength to maintain structure in the midst of chaos and fallen stars.

Fate, so lonely marking time until script fulfilled. What recourse the renegade horse or man pulled from time, clumsily declaring ad lib embrace? Strange to hear the customary calls of cats, reminding men that no one lives to escape his fate.

Wick, lowered in looming shadow, dancing hollows, captured tales. Stored unread for reasons unbecoming, all hail hope in the prison yard. Keeping time with scant regard. Shortening dreams and hero prayers all stare hypnotized by trimming wick.

Thin the breath of one long draw. Desert brown and blonde cropped straw. All were left to gawk in awe. Time collided with matter and space. Leaving nothing left upon her face. Eyes stuck and shamed, unkempt princes with lips so gaunt and thin.

Left in scarcity, plenty of want, in sturdy saddle, extended hunt couldn’t tell the back from front. At John’s demand we changed the scene. From things which were and things which had been. If they knew what was ahead they simply left.

Pride effected and rosen cheek. Inheritance impossible among the meek. Laughing, singled out by those who thought themselves above it all. To show up naked to the Gossamer’s ball. Bedraggled hope of unpaid rent. Endure, abide with only pride.

Smile, wills the people’s heart. Parts chosen and leads cast. Hidden blend of rainbow minds. Frustration surveys through half drawn blinds. A kick and slumber, snores and chills. Vows recanted, bills paid, leaving early with awkward smile.

Pocket full of time and sand and all the things that we’d once planned. I scanned the perch for bird and beak or something sticky to plug the leak. Tried and true and candle blue, indelible, inked memories, parchment in my pocket.

None of God’s promises will give you sustenance, pause or protection if you do not believe. Trust and reliance upon the Gospel message is the predicate for Christian inclusion in the Kingdom. This is free will in action, therefore you must initiate the Covenant of Grace in that Choice of God as your salvation. Just as Eve chose disorder, we must rely upon the Second Adam to restore order in redeeming all who believe to God.

None of our fears are large enough to usher in a turnaround to defeat of the powers and principalities contending for humanity. They have been paraded before all in power, defrocking, stripping appellate, removing any guise that victory for them remains or was ever a possibility. The gentile believers are sealed by the earnest, down payment of their eventual glorification in the Kingdom of God. All those who will believe before the end shall see the same.

What we now see is a desperate global act to muster all remaining force to somehow beyond the possible defeat Christ in His return for rule and reign. None of this matters except for the fulfillment of everything foretold by God’s Holy Spirit through the prophets and the eye witness accounts to Christ’s resurrection and ascension. They are gathering in their hope of deception to steal, kill and destroy any who continue in their doubt or disbelief of the Truths we have been told and upon which we put reliance, faith and trust.

Let them be gone from every human house they cohabit. In Power, the Holy Spirit with God’s avalanche of Word drive them from false domicile. May every human heart and mind be cleared by the belief and reliance upon the Gospel they accepted. May each believer be completed defended against any advance, assault or unwanted enemy barrage of mind, heart, spirit and strength. May each believer stand even to the gates of Hell. Let all who will cry out to Jesus even in the Tribulation find the throne room of God awaits.

Now is the time to realize the plight of the Jews as wrath and the false Messiah come against them. May they be quick to see through the deception of Satan’s Son as he prepares to rule the world and bring abomination to the Temple of God in Jerusalem. As Israel’s enemies fall to their hand and God’s intervening protection let the world renounce their disbelief and honor God even in their own failed attempt to overcome the Sovereign. Let all Americans see that the demonstration we have/are seeing in this nation is a microcosm of what is happening on the Global/Universal Stage against God.

May all stand in Good Courage as the Trust in God equips us. We are not frail, docile or controlled corks tossed on the ocean of disbelief and false doctrine, but the Adopted nation of God’s Royal Family, the Bride and Body of Christ Jesus, set firmly on the Rock of Ages against any bluster, muster or brigand. These are the days of our deliverance. Israel though they be the dark days of disbelief for a time, two times and half a time shall realize they pierced their True King and cry out to Him for return. We pray for, await and welcome that day that all shall finally rejoice as the Coming of the King of Kings.

In the spirit of Abraham, I pray perfect hearing and response to go wherever I am guided. Lord refine my faith that there is no doubt remaining, that I may trust with all of my heart.

Let my every answer be as Isaiah, “Here I am Lord send me”. Let each of these remaining days I have been so graciously given be filled with expected and effective divine opportunities.

Allow me to have the obedient and repentant heart of David asking before and after taking any action to remain consistent within Your Holy Will and not my own. Let me stay my heart.

Father, let me never go astray to the right or left but ever forward into righteousness. Let me never simply guess at the purity of my heart or actions but see You reflected in all that I do.

May boldness be found only when speaking your Word, defending the innocent or standing my ground unafraid of the hapless fiery darts aimed to make me buckle to enemy threat.

Father give me wisdom when necessary but never enough to shoulder the burden suffering the praise of those who would have me vulnerable to pride of wandering lions seeking my destruction.

Let me speak truth especially when a lie would free me the price of my own poor character, desire to be seen larger by those offering attention or when telling that lie leads to further trespass against You or those I love.

Lord let me stand against the encroachment of darkness. Let it never rule our hearts. May Your Holy Fire and bright light of Jesus shine bright from my heart, mouth and thinking.

Twilight, eyes struggling to focus in the coming low light. Majesty and promise, the hope of the unfulfilled, ironing out the doubtful wrinkles in bodice. What performance protocols and richer science then the voice of a Word, creating, appending, gathering all things to their origin and beyond their ending?

We are esteemed of no rapport, joyous in the troublesome, reluctant few, standing upon guarantees that most would ignore. These days refined in the fires of a rebirth set to clockwork as time heard first clicking moments. What pray you to? Forbear the swallows in migration and willing apostrophes.

Beyond the reach and hope of twinkling starlight. In the fiery eyes of loved and the begotten prince. Flames beyond swell overwhelming horizons with bold, engulfing, consuming torrent, as in floods against the walls and prison’s capture. Counting chrysanthemums adorning tomorrow’s, parlor procession.

Call the roots of space to gather unfolded, showing borders and regions dimensionally concealed. Wrapped around the beacons and rods of time. Infrequent joy, tapping out the smiles and swords of gravity’s fatness. Mass and measure incumbent to the petulant, we find fragility in man’s reason.

Fallen to what lower lands and dungeon? To await some testimony or judgment everlasting. Into the copse of shyly secured evergreen. Escape, found, not wanting by the ark of Covenants sworn upon by something beyond whispers and promises. Frail works and untested foundations, soft breast revealed.

Upon the sword of my own misspent words, claiming reason and excuse, when I failed to believe in destiny and embrace regard for truth. Not the imagined scenes of mindful creation, the things traveling well beyond grasping grip of outstretched palm and finger. I scrape at prism’s, light and dust.

I honor your choices. You can hate me, so many do as I continue to treat them with kindness, hope and love, which remains God’s Command and my Choice.

This is not easy being turned away, ignored, ridiculed, demeaned and even sitting in the contempt of those who have chosen the same commands. It is sad to see, but also scriptural.

That difficulty perhaps is the miracle that God will overcome and in so doing heal my mortal wound. I will not take on the burdens of unforgiveness that limits you in your quest for peace.

Walking uphill, backwards while striking my knees with a switch is not the life God promised. My self justification through masochistic atonement is entirely my own inability to forgive, even me.

I have forgotten more than I can recall, especially the deeds of my mortal self that God has forgotten and washed me clean. Faith is many things but it is not a commitment of convenience.

Faith means, even in doubt you quest in prayer to have God remove that doubt or practice that you may be perfectly aligned with His Will not the deceptive nature of self worship.

If you claim I am looking down upon you perhaps you have chosen me as the scapegoat of convenience upon which to project your own self loathing or misunderstanding of redemption.

This is not a game. I am not here to ridicule you. If you don’t love me that’s okay, If you must hate then that too is painful but still okay. This is after all about a Choice, that God has given you to make.

I cannot empower, encourage and council you to make that choice and that accept that you have made that choice which places me in derision. My job even in hate still remains Love.

It’s Okay.

Nothing short of miracle. I pray for you the absolute achievement of every plan God has for your life. In Keeping with preparation for the coming King, that includes seeing the end of repetitive lessons, which traditionally are the most painful.

There is no competition between saints, only encouragement or need for separation of logistics and allocation of provision toward similar but alternate Godly ends. What God ordains for your direction, promise and fulfillment delights me.

All scenarios include praying for positive outcomes consistent with Holy Spirit’s council. I will miss you in this brief life in the perfect knowledge that God will allow us to be rid of this world’s nonsense in the perfect order of everlasting union.

There is no situation where I will invite the demonic into this ministry, nor will I wish for you to meet those elements of the powers/principalities of the dark. Our objectives are for the end to wickedness, meaning anything inconsistent with God’s Will.

So many nights I have awakened to cry out to Him for my continued failures for the Kingdom. However, sometimes I must succeed and be thankful for the opportunity to wisely serve, knowing the difference is the success which man seeks.

Forgiveness is the preferred state of abundant life. Any burden carried in my heart will inevitably slow me down becoming restraining difficulty on the road to mission accomplished. Light to travel means no self assigned encumbrance.

Yes, there are imaginations or iterations of daydream where things would perfectly align to produce a team that is consistent and committed to the mutual achievement of the objectives given this pastor for our combined success.

However, the commitment is essential and there never was one. Without that commitment and the agreement associated with a final decision maker that there be no argument or mistaken placement of accountability. Guaranteed chaos.

Mission work must always start out simply. Rebirth, departure from the world’s system, prayerful realignment with God’s direction, provision and endurance through the Holy Spirit and finally circumstances in worship that accord all glory to Him.

Taking steps at large investment, up front is worldly business, for it asserts our human vision and scripting as guiding projection for something to be written in God’s hand and timing. Abraham simply left to go wherever God would lead him.

Can we imagine right now where we would be standing in this ministry if we had simply committed and gone wherever God led? That is the price of leadership or the lack of a commitment to follow one leader in a chain of Command set by God’s Word.

I have no sympathy for my own disobedient heart, nor am I impressed by my own wishes to find something outside of this foundation of understanding. There is no happiness for me within the scenarios I write or have written, only defeat.

This life is about refinement for all concerned even God’s Will for the disobedient is governed by His loving desire to see all creation come to that desire to be like Him/With Him. My own established insanity would be achieved in seeking otherwise.

Am I perfect, the fact that I am here on this Earth defines I am not? Therefore the reason for being here is the process of becoming. Becoming what I yet don’t know for I do not yet know God as He is, but I will as His Word promised both of us.

Even if. Forgetting my place in this world. The choices I must make versus the ones I find expedient. Are lynching the thoughts of this embattled heart. Testing, Yet watching, the stock of my personal power plummet. To the depths of twisting tunnels and shrouded cavern. Nothing rises, but promise.

Hope is not wing, but rising air beneath it. Stretched beyond the ratchets of time. Chance figures the wager. Bargaining for more time, space or things to admire. No hands, no peaceful repose. Gone destiny, fed to the penchant of knowing something better. May not fill that dream shaped projection.

There are so many good things whispered by the moaning planet. Days long, sunlight strong. Well wishes in the crowd shouting kind things in passing. Forgotten buttons depressed for floors never shown on the planchette. Weakness found only in the bending will seeking another reason.

Focal cries of heart and daydream. To mince words and argue with chaos about time. Gravity forcing my feet onward to a dream I have yet to ponder. Alone, but reinforcement certain. Morning by the window-sill stuck together with the glue and alabaster. Our stock in shade falls without expiration.

To the foggy hut, with smoke filled eyes. Begging audience to forget the tears and misplaced feet. As slippery ground exposes plans yet lacking. Fast, squandered motion and the heat that leaks from friction. Finding myself someone else. With destiny and comfort in found in the cabinets of understanding.

Dawn forgets the expectation of its arrival. Dark seeking slumber begs for light to set it free. Compelled by wisdom, never found. In remorse and petulant musing we fight back against the rules, commands and worry. Selling ourselves to be slaves of heart and trifle. We willingly repress all candor.

Master not the steps and trial of this mountain. Wander with good recourse or intention. Lost at the foot of the mill, meant to breed the masses. Singular, select, chiseled from the cliffs we failed to cover. Navigate the depths and height, emotion asked and answered, but never invited to graduation.