In grand effort to brandish the torch of our own greatness and wisdom, we wave a Fool’s Sparkler to dazzle and amaze observers. I have never been a man especially graced with character. Certainly disposed to a fair amount of charm I have piped the snake from the basket to challenge belief and obscure my frailties. This world was my coin and good pleasure. Seeking validation after validation in a succession of “top this” events my plan was irrevocably displayed as absolute and utter failure in the outset. This world is bound by temporality and even the attention one receives is short lived. What I wanted and what I pursued were on different roads of understanding and promise that rarely if ever intersected.

My collective achievements were sponsored by a quest for sin and self actualization, the world’s mantra for happiness and fulfillment. One may never be filled by self and even those with 90 foot statues have died miserable deaths in realization of this ridiculous pursuit. What then may fulfill this longing? What then may provide Eternal verification of righteous pursuit? In telling me I am good you have plied me with the salve of temporary relaxitive. This is the opium of man to receive repeated if not constant praise to the glory of our own achievement, brilliance or polish. In accolades born of self aspiration eternity is forsaken. The surrender to the eternal pursuits requires that in achievement of personal objectives we must relinquish to the intentions the King.

I am no master of the mystical, wizard of substantial power or villain of intoxicating fear and fury. Simply, irrevocably, though this will always be tested and challenged, a tool of something greater than my own desires, planning or aspiration fealty. My plot is no longer my own, my character no longer shabby and short lived having been replaced with the fruits of Everlasting Hope and Forgiveness. Shall I lean toward ushering in the frail image in reflection of a world set to its own passing? Your praises of my efforts, words and wisdom are rocks to challenge my defenses. If I am challenged at all it is by my own worldliness in reservation.

I will become something greater than self offered. I will achieve the impossible tasks in this world and spend eternity serving and listening to the only one who ever knew it all. These are not the sacraments and yearnings of a man born of ambition’s fodder. For all those things I sought, bought and wrought were limited and unreasonable facsimile of that which is now within my attainment. These are not the wiles and woes of man having given up or surrendered to be used as whip to whim or widget to workings. These are the surety, certain reasonably obtainable objectives of the one who has written the rules. I am sure in my outcomes which I never held for one moment in my own pursuits. For now and forever more my works no longer dictate the limits of achievement or fulfilling consequence. My Steps are guided, predetermined and made certain in the heart and Power of God.

Since Boyhood secrecy of word and deed has been the only and appropriate bastion of a young men encircled and threatened with the knowledge of a grueling contest. Innocence for men in these United States is not allowed and one becomes clique pariah possessing a God fearing gentility to mercy, love and compassion. We are banished from the cool kids clan immediately when inquiring if there aren’t better, more Godly ways to treat humanity. Most find succor or secondary solution in some strange attraction to the Opposite Sex as rescue from the incessant bullying that inevitably pursues them in this unacceptable innocence.

But for those who do not find themselves homosexual the only reliefs is camouflage/coding or capacity to surpass their prowess in pugilism. I simply love women and enjoy being a man created by God who has a heart full of Love for His Creation. Certainly I have done everything I could imagine and been pressured, beaten, subdued and harassed by the men in the Family to become some angry, contentious, bigot of a man having no sensitivity to each person’s dilemma.

At some point I sought conquest of all in my life rendering me to a war within myself in the poverty of temporary tyranny as solution to complex design. The validation of women produced that temporality extinguishing momentarily the pain of never being able to find love for being who God made me. However, this was utter foolishness and akin to insanity as my pursuits resolved the location of women who could never love me and convince them that I was sufficient, good, kind and deserving of that approval. This led me to new understanding and inevitably directly to God as I had no true concept of Love until experiencing it from Him.

I even joined the Marine Corps in desperate attempt to become that which would be acceptable to those who promised Love for transformation. I hurled myself into their world of brutality and mastered the techniques of those mirroring the requirement of acceptability. These practices were base and easy to master but impossible to digest. For I am not what man would have me become but that which God has designed. In the Corps I found many others suffering from similar banishment in social environ and also found the ability and talents of God’s intelligence gifting. Code became my solace. Complex verbiage, rhetoric and poetry the devices of my protection in secrecy. If they could not decipher my writings then they had no more leverage upon the man seeking his own preservation in silence.

At some point God stepped in and inquired of me, His Son, why I was attempting to rid myself of the Greatest Asset He had given me in the fulfillment of His Purpose for my existence. He told me clearly that because of the sensitivity my wounding was inevitable but the procurement in my endurance was the ability to enter a room of people and immediately see their wounds. He explained this allowed me to quickly become of significant use in their unfulfilled desire to find Healing in God. All men want to know Him, for there is no other path to heal the wounds of this depraved and cancerous world. His Word and His Guidance showed me clearly His Plan for this decaying world and that our trial by His Fires Must Come to force man’s propensity to procrastinate through scarcity of time and caustic impetus. If their is sufficient heat all men will seek to escape their circumstance. We are destined to face this point of time in God’s Planning, Soon.

I never imagined that my answer would be found outside my imagination. Being forced to comprehend that only through Relationship with God may I find the answer to problems of this world. I needed the impossible and only through His Holy Spirit was it available. Upon embracing His forgiveness, rebirth and transformation, I discovered the answers previously unavailable. My Life now made sense in embracing His Will for my life for in that Sovereign Will I found the Purpose beyond man’s defining comprehension. Odd that a rebirth was what I always sought in my worldly pursuits to be acceptable to mankind through my transformation. Yet, only in my heavenly remaking did I discover that I was always meant to be loved and adored, just not by men and not for the reasons that men offer approval, but for the Purposes and Worldly unacceptable remaking to resemble Christ.

So what must I say in the clarity of a man who spent nearly his entire youth and adult life hiding in my own camouflage and secrecy? That this thinking has been entirely sponsored by God’s Hand in my life, taking one of my older Brothers this passed month by heart attack and hearing that the other has suffered the same illness without mortality is something I must readily admit. For there are influences of the Powers and Principalities of this World and the Heavenly realm that seek their death. In the pain of their own trials by exactly the same wounds they found their temporary inclusion in the cliques of this world. For that I weep to see that they chose to achieve worldly success in exchange for Heavenly Purpose.

It is to God that we all owe allegiance, worship and fealty. For He alone offers something beyond the palsy of a world gone astray from His Direction, Kindness and Provision. I mourn for those who find themselves discontent, for that unhappiness indicates the Opportunity for escape. I do not envy those having found completion in the realm of men for that indicates eventual and permanent separation for the Sovereign Love of God’s Presence. I will hide no more in the elusive desire to obfuscate my True Purpose to somehow protect myself from the caustic and abrasive devices in this dimension for these are the creative tools of God’s Purpose for all men. I am no longer seeking peace and protection through complexity, pursuing safety in my own capacity of silence and cryptology. I AM what He wants me to be and that shall never be hidden again. Meek does not mean Weak, but compassion demands and understanding from the Powerful.

I walk, talk and fight in Jesus’ Name for His Kingdom Come and His Will to the extent that I may be a cup of His Impossible Power to the finding of those results He seeks through me.

She Slept and fate breathed easy, wind whistled and storms bayed Castles fell and reason failed them, as hope made ribbons under gray blue skies. Days dwindled and baron’s pilfered, a sheep to shear and barns to burn. Music murmured but held its breathing, frozen diaphragm contagion yearned. Dawn to pine owls signals slumber and freedom’s waltz from eyes above. Leaning lately and tardy’s mistress, searched forsaken to journey’s dove

Felt and velvet, clutching madly as loop and hatch had met their match. In treason’s limits betrayal fondly given couch to waiting soul’s to catch. The rolls were challenged and duchess angered as poppers few had made the grass. Sitting sadly upon plaid garment the lutes and pipe refused to signal. So dour the hour at half past seven the hearts all mended. Passions blend into the forest an itchy bear with pine cone’s friend. To chaplains hope and daylight’s reckon the bend was blurred in pilgrim’s scope.

The chalice broad but oft its empty, a hand of sod as lion’s kilt. Shorn from sadness and madness mercy, a flurry’s sake to break sword to hilt. So cold the fury of brackish mooring, the sand and salt and beckoned spray. Into the shade for clumsy helpers to dance and dream of fairy’s play But magic not a man escapes them in the dark the willing fly, no plight or fight to entertain me just so tragic in purple passion handily kept by lies he’ll buy. The purpose gone and anguish rendered to able lass and unborn clod the reason felt and word engendered infinity we thought quite odd.

Paris as an inevitable berth to find one’s self and test their worth. Four third’s Pi in length and girth at some distant point we all return to Earth. From dirt I came as God’s Lungs breathed on branch and spring for which I teethed. My rapier not so oft unsheathed the hope of grace my heart is wreathed. Sing to waken the soul to dance a Sovereign Love and great Romance. The fire is perched within my stance to make argue fate and circumstance. To close to hope we choose to fight whether morn or deep, mid-winter’s night The Love did live and bore His light to wash us clean and set all things right.

An unlikely foe, downtrodden by the effects of willing decision, having found his way from comfort to brigandry, my age old friend escaped my process filters. Imaginary efforts to establish my regime left me unprotected in the conscious realm. A placard handily positioned above my sanctuary bidding all enter especially them with ill intention. When harms way aptly ventured, the safety of delicate pursuits abandoned, neither rhyme, reason or song shall protect us from the creatures of night and shadow.

Good grammar is insufficient hammer to shield from graft and gift of poisonous posse. Unrelenting is the force and will to see you unseated at this year’s pageant. Step lightly and test each footfall for the loosened boards of the dance floor will rapidly give way to your clumsy footing. What manner of crime scene that which deprives one of common decency and protections from political unraveling? Where is the courage and whit of ages past? Why do the lawless seek masking without asking the censors for leeway? Walking as if there are no lawful parameters of justice.

Drowning by the beat of thrombosis against the polar ice cap of my frozen perspective. Ill equipped to stand erect according to my creation but disinclined by revelation to return to darkness finding fondly the light before me. Contemplating the in depth calamity of man’s born morality grasping for immoveable foci. Landing precipitously at the edge of my entrenchment the corona gives way to more thorough understanding with quotients, elements and foundation much further from previous points for viewing. Forced into transformation not mitochondrial or chromosomal but ethereal, infinite and sanguine.

There is time to run through the salient points once again before offering edict. When things are rushed for the sake of emotion or momentum the best options have yet been extolled. We are not property of poorly threshed opportunity or idea, but the deep moral thinkers upon the affect of our propositions. If it was necessary and consequential to make it four thousands pages long then the analysis of those pages is more important than the writing thereof.

My heart is partial to the obeisance’s of its wanting. It labors not for the good of all but for the profit of the few within focus. However, the heart, when given sufficient leash may outsmart time and concupiscence to deliver topic, thesis and conclusion consistent with egalitarian good. We are not slaves to the momentary reasoning of men concerned with hollering bellies. This is our wake in which the world must struggle to get its sea legs. Assaulting upon the innocent ought never be foundation or filling in the lessons of mankind. We are measured in the time we are given, to leave such legacy is suffering and unconscionable at best.

What then of Spirit and the leverage upon our person, our contemplation and works? Do we position God in such repugnant state that we scantly reflect the image of His Word against the actions to which we’ve dedicated our reason? This short sight is not the long term hope of humanity. We were meant to employ the weight of treasure and history against the possibility to create those things worthy of God’s review. Shall we be forgotten as those who allocated insufficient reason to resolve those things within authority? I think not and think again upon all those steps I find necessary to moment.

Heart and hand beyond my will to understand. Simply fume and make demand upon the witting world around me. Songs to me bout the angry and the free fade to mist in agony. The abomination of utter failure.

Looking back every side step and attack put more bricks upon this back, while heaven waited on my frailty. Making lists and listing hard to port thinking of some grand retort, humming loud enough for sea to hear me.

Long since gone storms are settled against the dawn, bishop, Queen, rook or pawn, we all have seen the toil. Up against what we all have feared the most, Father, Son and Holy Ghost beneath it all firmly fit with fashions plunder.

No reach, no love, no harbors fit the skin that’s left won’t feel it a bit. Loss of limb, or life so vile only hope may reconcile. Into the charge do brigands bluster barely came to face the muster.

Memories and data filled all emotion in words fulfilled passion fuel in blood we’ve spilled in keeping with grand gesture. The wind picks up to boasting sail in friendship, kind and Word I fail, giving jailer and priest their bail heaving to for keel and bail.

Lining up to read the list if you join we must insist that gifts and pride be left aside this journey only God may guide. Profit some and words do tell the moment that all passions fell clanging pot and ringing bell

No Time to wake the Master icy step and snow’s sweet calm the wound would not accept the balm. For reasons plenty and rhymes so few out of His mouth the false will spew. And regale the days when Winter slept promised perfection to each adept.

To Heart and Hand He gave me sand to chase my will or follow His Great Plan my reason always in short demand trying so hard to slake the flames I’ve fanned. In dark and days of short supply, seeking the truth and reasons why.

Each man appointed once to die and then sweet Justice for which we cry.

Gritted teeth at the mention of chaos and calamity. So in love with order and procedure that I seldom venture into the realm of possibility, preferring to predictably enter each episode fully assured the lack of twists, turns, mystery and unfortunately instantaneous Joy. In fearful anticipation I have written the next chapters or at least the sentences that lead to comfort, peace and limited opportunity for growth or mystery. Hope is a wild thing, finding joy and faith in the unknown that is fully rooted in the absolute.

Feeling the way forward, I step back into my customary shield of fear. Way lay beyond this request, this question shares the potential shame for which I have established reliable crutch and bastion. Hiding in the familiar I comfort myself in the old and the completely understood, basking in my lack of the dangers found in newness and mystery. I appeal to the prevalent sense of Safety to keep my complacence. Let no bad thing come my way that may transform my capacity to prevail in dark times. For I want the path easily mastered, the broad boulevard of humanity’s march to Easy Street.

Make no thing too hard for my comfortable dominance. Enslave all those attempts at maturity and mastery keeping it forever simple that I may find comfort. All hills, valleys and tunnels should be erased, all things made flat. Let all trees be removed and deserts erected that no thing may hide from sight to surprise. Let all things remain mediocre, as the glasses and base colors of our garment that none should stand above or below, equal by elimination. Let talents be equally divided and those gifted given crutch, cane or cast to inhibit movement outside the Bell Curve of normalcy and analytic assumption.

Utopia be my friend in your false eloquence and dimmed lighting. For if Paradise be our sounding then stop Twain’s marking this instant. For their can be no uniqueness in shroud’s mystery nothing beyond ordinary to build or seed hope’s anticipatory ignorance. For bliss be ignorance as it peruses nothing, seeks emptiness and marches sullen away from content rich living. This is not paradise to be separate from God Almighty, lacking; light, life and the powers of creation yet to those who live in the empowered imaginary deception it is the foundation of any desire at resistance to God and all things real.

Give me not the trials leading to purity, strength and delight for I want the simple, the Cro-Magnon and the tame aspects of cruelty, hunger and dominance. Let me live a life of imaginary devices, destinations and declaration of my own glory. For in the affect of life’s pressure I am revealed. I find only shame in my unmaking at the testing of Life’s Crucible. In to the furnace you shall go to stand hand in hand with Maker while I repose on the comforts of temporary existence, finding peace outside peculiarity in the land of all that is known.

Nothing is definitive until the World knows your stand. There is no accountability rationally assumed, no line’s drawn nor assail given until one’s own personal acknowledgement of a position’s inclusion. If you don’t declare Christ here then He has no option but to deny you in Heaven. For in your failure to declare your adoption by His Holy Family you have excluded yourself, sold your birthright for a bowl of stew.

Do seek to evade capture, persecution or parade in your silence regarding Christ. Be very careful right now because you are in so doing for you are concomitantly eschewing the blessings included therein. For there is nothing gained in silence only lost. This world will see your deeds as you walk with Him, demons see the Holy Spirit upon you. Therefore to be abiding in Christ provides no camouflage or absolute protection against Heavenly, Worldly or Hadean Alignment. It is the Spirit living within our hearts that gives us Sovereign Defense and Offensive Fire Power to repel or chase any of those enemy elements.

If you will not declare Jesus as King Here then you will quench the Holy Spirit at each opportunity to see Him arise in defense, protection or blessing. Don’t think that hiding is ever an option in Christianity unless hidden by God under His Mighty Wings and Shadow. People who have falsely or oddly accepted Christ through silent Prayer yet never stepped forward into His Hand of Discipline to be chastised by His Merciful hand of sanctification are simply seeking the get out of hell card for free to return to their well worn seat upon humanity’s fence or sideline bench. There are no watchers in the Kingdom of Heaven only doers and obstacles. Upon which side of the fence have you proclaimed your stake? For there is coming a time and may already have arrived where the fence upon which you have so comfortably watched the game is now found to be on enemy territory.

Declare a side. Preach, teach and abide obediently in His Word and be His disciples indeed or be included as minions of the fallen by your silence, inaction and fence sitting reluctance. In Jesus Name may You Know Him and may this World and all the Fallen Publicly acknowledge that You Belong to God, in Jesus Name. Eschew the Stew. Declare your Birthright.

From the comfortable arm chair of my own imaginary kingdom posting pronouncements of my little tried theories and lesser known exploits, testing access to a playing field to which I hold no membership. You are free of my predilections, my posturing and my permissible prognostication for none holds bearing or the gravity of impending stoning for prophecy misspoken. In the miniscule stretches of my inkling I see a way forward customary to my own damaged interests and have no right, power or authority to demand the moments you would lend for absurdity. Conquerors are written about not sidelined for greater acts of reason.

Nonetheless, those things to which Spirit made me privy you must now acquiesce their occurrence in the sequence of concrete events upon which they were projected. I do not for a moment take credit, pleasure or history’s measure in my own sacrifice, conquest or accolade but would desperately and repeatedly point you to worship of God for having given me any measure of sanity, proselytizing or correct prediction. This is His story certainly my attempts at increasing the silhouette or profile of my character are vain attempt at best. If the Spirit is correct then align with His Power, authority and Direction especially if that requires ignoring me to do so. Heralds are oft forgotten when the declarations they’ve made are found to be correct and timely.

What then is the treasure of this service? What outcome or profit do I venture to lay this current timeline in review? Well that is a suspect conversation that apparently reflects a fair bit of sacrifice on the herald’s half, for it is done by direction, surrender and a recognized love for the good of God’s Will and the benefit of every man who heeds them. Does the preacher matter or the Word to which he convicts you? Does the herald determine the outcome of scenes, battles or debate? Does the servant stand before the master when reward for His Glory are measured and worship properly given Him? Well No. It is with distinct pleasure in sight of spiritual understanding that a believer partakes any action for it is recognition of Faith in any measure acquainting by nature with the King who sent him.

Is it small measure to report honestly to Holy Throne room with testimony regarding those talents which were given having been multiplied in obedience? What then of shepherding having dedicated fearless attempt and teaching to keep the sheep upright, fed and readied for the departure at Master’s behest. What then the small sacrifices associated with loss of status, reputation, treasure or time investing all to see the prophet’s righteous? Have we to believe that all we have done is for naught? This position reflects damaged thinking at outset, for none could have been pursued had not the gift firmly received. Spiritual understanding demands the payment made in redemption from slavery, inclusion in Monarch’s Family and cleansing to befit eternity. Treasures none greater in this world or any dimension have been bestowed to servant in demonstration of belief.

Raspy palm upon rose-hewn cheek. A gentle nudge, lips brushing the thickly calloused fingertips where prints had been worn absent. A brush run through the curly locks his hand gently parted the tangles, impossibly cupping the base of her neck, in warmth, strength and value. These are not the challenges of slave master but one familiar to work and war knowing that which remains precious to those who have lost everything. Eyes too learned of those which seek to conquer find hope, love and kindness from unlikely benefactor. In triage and timely moment peace and wonder meet in restoration.

Sacrificed for reasons imagined whispers. Innocence found plenty must this day be acquainted with the world’s consuming carnage. Yet, protected behind defenses too large for most to ponder, shadow given, shelter and promise of one more day outside the merciless crucible. Still, fashioned for the ideas of God and made too fragile for those of this dimension. Hope, existence of self control not oft found in wide supply, giving birth to need for Lord Protector. A ghastly man when challenged by those who want his blood or honor, innocent few are lent the will and might of men who serve honor and glory.

Words, none spoken yet chapters written in the passage of pregnant moments in understanding and promise. So few, hearts beating to accommodate the oaths that we have taken, not distant lands we hoped in meeting. These youths must make it to fortress in promise and grace purchased. For now the sword and spear hand draped across her shoulder the only reason to counsel success in this proud venture. For absent one man willing to forgo evil we find all innocence consumed for the pleasures of impure measure. In this thing done would God’s validation given find that heart no longer present for tasks befitting midnight?

Of shadow’s known and goblins hobbled to meet the road a man has risen. With unknown past and likely domineering spirit yet found the fancy of butterflies yet frozen. To look upon this pure, saved soul with market perception of precious flight and fancy, surpassing ashen heart and hardened character unwilling to protect the vulnerable. These blazing eyes of horizons captured look beyond the curve of land’s fall to heaven’s waiting Gate. And in so choosing then give succor and solace to the precious lot of Lord, found treasures greater than the booty of war or profit. In her beauty she had saved him not by quest or purpose but by simple reminder of those things outside the ravage and appetite of man’s self service.