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.

Leaning in, body, mind and soul to the Lord’s embrace. Taking nothing with me but His surpassing peace. Power-filled. Moments to consider all the things we’ve left aside.

So wide the gap that the twain man eclipsed. Far enough to see the dawn of tomorrow’s great perspective promise. Glorified, in faith. Left to overcome all worldly obstacle.

Tracing the outline where sky meets Earth. Searching for answers in His scribbles in the sand. Demanding nothing but resolute that provision protects. Awaiting prayerful response.

They shall be returned to innocence. Something beyond the redemptive achievement of self. Walking into the council of God. Familiar. Contrite, walking with a Spirit of seal and promise.

Today and each day of this calling I shall fear no man or angel. Knowing that the Lord has rebuked those who have trespassed His command. Seeking Dominion is not a worthy road.

Forgotten predictions. Reliant upon the stronger voice of prophetic reason. Dancing to songs yet released to the ears and heart of man. Written before the twilight of time.

Freed. Transformed, not to escape the judgment of God, but to find peaceful understanding and perspective nature. These are not the battles meant for the hand of man, but for God.

What leaning wind ushers me forward? What gates or checkpoints shall challenge or define His authority within? This straight path gathers my feet, bidding me onward to certain times.

In priestly promise I welcome those of growing faith. To find their hope, comfort and challenges hand in hand with God. Knowing in prayer that the Divine providence remains our single Truth. Singularity, God’s only begotten Son.

Can the heart write, does the spirit show proof of life everlasting? Reflection upon the components and ideas of living, the methods of navigating associative challenges or evading/withstanding the tides tugging or threatening sure footing. Are simply testimony, opinion and perhaps an egoistic/selfless attempt to asserts one’s own life as model for achievement or failure in that navigation. What then is the evidence of Spirit’s transformation and indwelling seal?

Well, first; the bite of conviction and call to change. Absent the elucidating bile of personal defect or misstep people continue in the path which best suits their safety, security and desirous fulfillment. Simply said, if a man hears not a rebuke whether internal or outside there remains no cost for poor, inconsistent or self-serving behaviors. This is the least understood majesty of God’s Plan for Mankind’s reconciliation and restitution. This is often too simple for the wise to gather.

For example; without a lawful speed limit, a sign indicating the mandated limit by law in a section of road and a meter of a driver’s current speed, a driver may remain oblivious to excessive speed. Therefore, there must first be law. Then a knowledge of that law. And finally an indication that each of us have transgressed that law. And finally, an internal decision or external prompting in decision to either obey resulting in an observance and performance within the law or a departure from the obedient call to continue in lawlessness. This is the purpose of the TEN COMMANDMENTS, given unto the Jewish people to reveal to the World the need for Messiah’s step into humanity.

From this historical moment forward, man could no longer remain oblivious, except in instances where the education to the law is absent or in blatant decision to disregard it and follow one’s own will. Additionally, the Gospel message makes clear in both Romans 1 and Ephesians 1 that the spirit reflects the removal of excuse as all men know this truth of God and the belief in this truth is invitation to the seal of His Holy Spirit for everlasting life. In this simple revelation of a Sovereign set of Laws and that no man may offer excuse to God for breaking them we find the Call of God set into the heart of all men. Finally, in the realization of an eventual accounting by God to Judgment in Jesus Christ leaves men with the dilemma or freedom to choose their eternity.

So, to the original question; Can the heart write? Well, not in the literal sense of words but we would be remiss in wisdom’s challenge by misunderstanding the greatest evidence of man’s life is the story written by his decisions, choices and his effectual wake. The heart is clearly seen in my daily choices, my transformation and my repeated call to change, remain the same or regress in the obvious path of human growth. Our hearts though not some mystical bundle of right and wrong emotional acuity, are attributed or representative of that man without excuse God tells us each of us has become. Finally, a contortion of heart and judgment occurs when men decide to neglect this miraculous inclusion in His plan of redemption.

As men we may either write the story of our hearts in agreement with Sovereign intention or blind ourselves in ignorance to the weight of our departure. The heart does write, not in allegory or eloquent oration, rather in a greater reflection of a life lived in promise or neglect. I am not finished in this life as testament will be observed in my passage beyond the boundaries of this dimension. However, I am aware that there is a story being documented in my walk through it. My life became everlasting the moment I accepted the marvelous mystery revealed in the law and release from it by Christ. Yes, I may choose to exceed the parameters of God’s Law in disobedience, but the call upon my heart and mind to remain in agreement is the greatest evidence of my acceptance or denial of the choice I made and continue within daily. The pain I feel when departing from God’s Law is a wonderful thing.