Unrehearsed, emptied out before your feet, hoping not for pity but forgiveness and the opportunity for rebirth. Lost in the wicked thinking of a man who serves himself god. Pouring over the pages and wishes, wants, worries and undignified dreams finding the tears now to recall the unrelenting sadness I was incapable of admitting or handling. Impressions abandoned time forgotten and missteps willingly acknowledged not for purpose but just because it is the right thing to do when you’ve squandered the Master’s assets and brought dishonor to a Father who wanted, supported and deserved the best from a gifted and blessed Son. There must be something hereafter. I know it from your Promises and pray beyond capacity to declare the hope that these words were and are still meant for a dishonorable bull’s posterior like me.

There is no validation, no going before a jury of unfaithful to find some semblance of reconciliation for the awful actions, thoughts and missed opportunities I sold for a handful of nightmares, daydreams and misdirection. Nothing stands monument to that investment but the gray palsied ashes of this life spent upon folly, frivolity and distasteful pursuit. It is okay this thing, this place to which I find arrival. This moment seeing the negative valuation of the stock of a man’s existence, watching now as observer no pray tell not wishing to participate but move on from the wisdom of the dismal, the failure of man’s own constructive nonsense, the years of fool’s delight and wish assets had been used to construct eternity instead. That is the price the painful nagging and gnashing regret, the worm that bites the mind as man is forced to catalog a life spent for naught. That is the prison of a life poorly pursued and God ill attended.

He sees. That is some consolation prize to find myself in the counsel of His Perfect Eyes. It is known, and to be known by ones maker is certain as each fault was crafted in silent purpose each failure a gifted opportunity to exalt each day a humbling gift provided to pursue the everlasting, to grow the crops that bring joy to the Father’s heart. yes, failure is a good thing when success leaves one wanton, questing for the next entry in the experiential paradigm. No pattern finished in tapestry all broken leading to labyrinthian wander and uncompleted divinity. What is not built counts as nothing in the datafile of a man’s life for their is wasted effort column only Nothing to show for time, treasure, gift and grace. Perhaps nothing is enough, smelling of smoke he will allow a man the chance to welcome those having served in good conscience. Maybe their sandaled feet will need cleaning as they seek audience with the King of Kings? Perhaps there is a spot at the back of the gathering for a man who has nothing left to offer but the shell saved from the wasting fire of hell’s consumption?

On this Floor Lord, let me lay not in sadness of having been total failure but merely seeing your feet I know that I have won. Whatever is made or done let it be of your counsel and provocation or order. For I have nothing left but the contentment and will to serve. That is perhaps what I have always wanted and it took me arriving at the foot of your Throne to see my True place before my God, Father, King. Home.

This day did not suddenly come upon me. This world did not so quickly bend to the will of those living upon its nectar. My allegiance to the things to come was not born in a minute but is the product of eons of planning and preparation. This name I have been given though worn with pride is the not the me I’m becoming but the person that must find the answer to struggle by wrestling. My dreams are not those of idle worship, but a life spent in radical pursuit of the God who lives within me and created me while I sat a thing in workshop. The life is not my own but is granted freely for me to spend upon the idols of experiential thinking or the arduous adventure in seeking the gateway to eternity and Him who reside thereafter.

These are not the principles of a man in leisure’s learning not the array of powers and authority of a son who has always done what is right and true, but that alone makes it particularly pleasing to find that the panoply of possibility beyond my wounded wife. In exchange for the inappropriate and those things that gained me pity or passion’s eye I find those pleasures reserved for Knight’s of Purpose. This was not the costume of the child that was given me. These are the robes of a man given recognition by something holier than even the greatest worldly treasures. Having no gold of men that’s proper and no wisdom of scientific renown, I thought somehow I would reach a point of displeasure and disappointment about the things I don’t have or couldn’t get. However it is the opposite. These are the things I’ve shed to be welcomed in the Presence of the King. How foolish that raucous thinking that somehow a man must be readied to stand before God when before time began we found love in His sight as simple Divine Thinking.

This is not the simple harmony of one voice singing to chickens of his unknown and wanton prowess. These are not the ramblings of a spirit disconnected from the flows of time, his own island in the desert of one man’s thinking. These are not the scratching and swooshing moves of a ninja carefully practiced and accepted in heaven. These are the dance steps of a man’s who has known the loss of love and the kindness of man’s cruelty. This is the purpose of something written on a scroll in dark resin by weeping passionate pious princess who had given all power for the opportunity to be free and watch the workings of a righteous King. This is no quest but brief gulps of precious heaven’s on promontory before next leap against the wind’s careful resistance to form. I did not find but lost and in so doing was given access to dimension and guidance beyond the maps of time. Yet, in the marvelous moment the only thing that came to mind was sitting in the stern watching as the Master Slept.

Stay, go, fight, run, deny, confess, rejoice, defend, explain. They all come to down to choice. Each day we are confronted with choices from motor perambulation, to food, finance and relationship choices, our day is strewn with those things about which we may determination. Though we do not focus upon the truth most of our choices are based on habitual beliefs ingrained by conditioning and experience. Even our views on what we are taught nightly on the news, internet or entertainment sources is driven by our beliefs. We believe certain sources credible, some entertainment palatable and some facts so outrageous we deem them conspiratorial or “Hard to Believe”.

We are suddenly facing a host of difficulties together. The world appears to in similar timing produced a series of tests that transcend national boundaries, culture and traditional concepts of what most humans believe the Norms of modern life. In the last several years there appears to be a prevalence of Global Problems that demand the creation of a qualified set of individuals specially suited to deliver those Global Perspective solutions that are beyond the myopic focus of what we will deem, Country Man. Though often believable these World wide problems have consistently originated from a similar class of elitist, academic, political or scientific group of bloodline nobility claiming to have special revelation as to the difficulties of man and how to resolve these world size problems. Unfortunately as we follow this new dilemmic we are forced to see that just as the solutions are coming from the same elevated economic peer group so do have the problems in theory or practice originated from these same High Society cultural elites.

In fact the historical revelation that this is a known psychological method of establishing and achieving group objectives has diminished the credibility of those heralding the problems themselves. As cultures begin to doubt the word being offered they begin to doubt the solutions as flim-flam attempts to hornswoggle to the population into paying the check. Now that historically trustworthy voices have become questionable at best we have entered a period of “Crisis of Belief” Where humans are struggling in a well determined effort to reestablish their own understanding in the review of information sources that have now been tested and proven reliable. The common understanding of problem, action, solution has been well labeled as an invention of the British elite to somehow identify themselves culturally as the only group of Civil Servants capable of producing solution to global problems. Human being now see this and laugh seeing the self arrogant and assured proclamation as a self-fulfilling political dance designed to set Britain up as the First Global Empire of the 3rd Millennia.

Yes, the world is facing problems that consistently transcend borders of country and even continent, but the assertion that there is only one Nation, Culture of Political band capable of producing solutions is in itself a manufactured prevarication developed by Hagel as the product of a paid scientific study by the British. In fact this one Sized fits all approach of a would be Global Empire is completely repulsive to many of the Colonies having shaken themselves free from the tyranny of Her Majesty’s authority. In fact the refreshing concept in reviewing multiple solutions has the world even reviewing China, Russia and other typically disbelieved countries as source for credible resolution. The world has effectively entered the crisis of belief that may be essential to launch a new wave of thinking in the world. Even now the globalist council humanity to let go of ancient concepts of God and the afterlife replacing them with Scientific reasoning and Quantum openness to somehow ushering in a Singularity that propels man into evolution. In fact the elitists so enticed by this idea of thinking have now begun applying Helal’s themes of this idea of evolution. And not having the patience of Job they seek to INDUCE such a transformation via gene manipulation or cyber implantation.

However, The world see’s their attempted extortion of history, concept and belief and have begun the full on resistance to these measure finding them incredible by means of elitist assumption. Now the Elite World Class has a giant problem of their own creation. They have gone so far out on the limb of this induced evolution that now they refuse the basis of Choice that makes up each belief. They demand that all Earth dweller’s comply with their self-proclaimed certain experiments in order to achieve the objective of their own world dominance. Believers and unbelievers alike are struggling with this concept as frail and old worldly. Most having lived their lives in some level of freedom and free thinking are now absolutely reluctant to entertain the scientific testing that the Elite say is mandatory to our continued existence. The problems that were first deemed resolveable by the elite class have suddenly exacerbated to extinction level issues having been made so by the creation of custom made virus as weapons and the imposition of Imperial Mandate as the righteous and Only solution to a problem they themselves created.

With the exception of a class of humans who fall in line with the philosophical, Political outcomes desired by the Elite most humans have now taken a step back refusing to allow themselves to be catapulted into the unknown quantum abyss of liberal quest for Global Domination. Our free will demands just that. If we were to determine to venture into an induced human evolution is will be by belief and Choice not by force of edict or mandate. It has become a war between what we deem as Elitist Bad and Evil attempts to make slave of mankind and any other outcome that allows mankind to determine its future by and through Free Will Choice and Belief. It is of no small consequence or reason that these are the gifts of God to All Men. God wants that all men will choose their path laying before us the choice of good and evil, life with Him or life on our own. This is clearly the best and most natural path for all men each of us having enjoyed the freedom to make our own choices as to belief, life, economy and status. Amazingly when we come to a Global Set of Problems we are forced through the incomplexities of God’s Truth to reduce to the simplest elements. Choosing What to believe is a Choice of each man and woman for it is the Free Will Gift of God.

Leeward yaw and Southern Paw puts right forward when march is called. Armbruster’s hook and Captain Cook, shook the tree so hard the mastiff stalled. The Queens in jubilation, never mind her exploitation of merriment and song gone for six days strong. After twenty one pop their cork time to dirty up the fork asking all the children if perhaps our bash may be right or wrong.

He loved those quizzical poems of deep leather tome’s with binding so sound and gilds all around, those tend to make the parlor quite musty. We found reason and wanted wisdom akin it. Nonplussed we fussed, infrequently we cussed to the teller and the feller who make’s whiskey out of wine. There is no convocation that will exemplify the nation to last throughout edification. we longed for the scents of yesteryear to relieve the fear of unfamiliar the gross and quite peculiar steering away from the queer to reflections quite clear we put the extemporaneous out of fashion.

And in the AM ridiculed for season. It’s so much last season and why one would bring up old fruit, last harvest or run to the root cellar for preserves when today’s pickings are sitting on the settee. Learning from leave behinds of greater minds then mine, I turn and twist to read each sign careful that I followed their design. Some plans wiggle and work because some jerk made refinement or restitution allowing the allowable. Rules and gems of wiser men circulate and perchance permeate the brief wakeful decency of social presence. When we refuse the collective dumb then some of God’s wisdom may catch hold creating welcome agreement and repository for greater reflection and discourse. Absent words we are just cackling birds praying someone hears our sweet song and comes along to swap; reasons, rhyme of action.

Lacking appropriate perspective, I stand back with eye closed and thumb up attempting some sense of confidence that she immediately sees beyond. The call out is often the best part of what a relationship is all about when our stuff is just fluff and we’ve all had enough of the fine and the rough. So we speak to each other in wonder, in passionate export of dreams and whisper that is seldom captured rarely shared and often left over sweetened or simply freeze dried for discerning man to ponder. Which way to the Witch Way and which pallet of rubbish shall I weigh and then defray to lesser understanding whilst mannered men demand wands and wakened potions or petrification or perspicacity?

Outside the yellow painted pavement my feet stand slippery at best constantly danger of listing past the wales. I dream of darkened spaces, where creatures of pressured madness lure me to make sense of their quizzes. Testing, tempting, release, recatch, dispatch then recall a worn ball of linen having been properly clawed by kitten. Rewritten rhymes of days when words meant more to men then simple statements of validity. Passions where love found itself competing for top billet. As the lesser minds of creation found hate, cruelty and bias their liking. Dragging humanity in to the depths and swirling wells of impurity, dunking it into its own excrement and vomit to teach it a lesson of the Power of petulant men. Stale the verb most equated with this leaking bag of existence referred to in the living. Dark because that is what men create in their moments venturing from truth and reason. Finding nothing but the reprobate absence of anything Holy we revile ourselves and seek to dive deeper into the nebulous night hoping that black is not the only dark, that something darker still remains.

Why Light? What grand warmth and brightness rekindles our flame each time we waken to find a morn’s anew? Men are choice and practice, failure and reinvigoration for this broken world knows well the repeat of its crimes. When wind blows slowly you bet to taste the ranky rose of yesterday’s hateful meaning or tomorrows convenient covetousness. There is nothing ripe or ready within my luggage, Master. Nothing safe for consumption or even worthy of mention to the youth in attempted edification. I have no brave stories of a world that employs power and kindness in right fashion. No tales of wiser men then I who shared to lurid and seismic giblets of days gone by well done or nights spent freely in the presence and cool knowledge of those speaking adoration. No this must be done through exchange. My stockade swapped for this tasty alluring beam of penetration you call light. I find it completely unfamiliar, torturous perhaps looking at every scar, crack and crevice, refining, defining, wandering into pockets and places into which nobody’s nose should find repose. It is in a sense soothing in its warmth as if comfort cocoon provided by sun or moon. But goes away even quicker than it came, stolen leaving the miserable greys and haze of persimmons rebound. Not excluded but cause for further investigation as the frustration of being out in the light is far less comforting than the warm shoulder it provided.

Above Wind River, looking out to the ramparts of God’s inhibition. Challenged to remain as silent as the freshly fallen snow upon the tarp, listening and watching the crackling bed of kindling capture the flame’s kinesis. What burdens come to the lost on slope or plenty? What worries fog the mind of man out in God’s wild. Sans men and the predicaments they flourish. Passions swept aside by the breeze and its dawning we may truly understand God’s Peace in that moment of societal world versus the truth Gift of God’s Housing.

In Promise we press on to the noon day at Summit. Baby Blues and sun washed visage tabernacle the moments with our Maker. On His Terms we recede leaving stellar charms alighting as the formidable Winter’s Cross paints its swatch across the desert. Falcon’s screech alerting the frightened of their coming. Somehow equalizing the unfair weapons of war. Dusk plays unfair tricks upon the eyes of Saints, remembering the mist of this world fading before our gaze. Was that something on the horizon in the distant greys and whites of the forests forgotten?

What hope of another free day have I when the only thing keeping a man from heaven is the will to try, stay and reason with God’s special gift of Glory. Alone with naught but those smelling the peppers and dried beef softening over sterno, I begin to reflect upon how little I have ever known. It is difficult to imagine an easy life for one so wisdom free. Challenged by most thought or deep philosophical reason my freedom was always found in the simplicity of God’s Truth. Not difficult unless wrestled, no hard unless resisted, a Comfort in the dark reaches of the night that I was meeting. Taking on chance and luck and destiny with the Trump card of faith. Armoured in Characteristics beyond my reckoning I met the sleep as some men tackle dreams.

Slow plodding, stick to shoulder several fresh fish tied to line. This day would bring good eats from the valley’s pleasure. Trip extended by the gift of God’s provision I reminisce the miles traveled and the way left to go before contact with this hapless world brought the displeasure of communication with those bound by folly. Yet the Love in my heart again refreshed by time with God’s quiet I recall my purpose and find rest. Hoping, no Knowing that men need this Love that God has infused into my spirit. They too are suffering the loneliness of brutal men wanting just a moment to be recognized and loved without effort or worth, but simply for their equal passage. This is the authority of God to Love where none should exist yet flowers. An indication of our Source, as the lake breeds the river so too is the founding offer the swells and growth of Love.

Vicious morn arrived as ordered, to accommodate the procession of daily carnage. My illegal presage, picked up by constabulary told them they need prepare. Yet for all their power and potency they lacked simple discernment and fore sight into logical military precision. It is not ammo, supply or communication hub I seek but heart. They having been given so many decades free reign to exercise their war upon humanity misunderstood painfully their exposed underbelly, their own vulnerability to dedicated philosopher. Their power, overwhelming to the innocent is provocation to saint, for it declares itself sovereign. Yes, with little s always missing the humility required to actually win wars knowing that except but for the Grace of God Almighty we are all just temporary by His Good Graces.

They feed upon the vulnerable, always the innocent must pay for their wicked lusts. It is the heart of their evil mandate, that no innocent things shall survive their terror intended to prove their mantra, “survival of the fittest”. Through tyranny they declare themselves the greatest power by consuming the unprotected, never dreaming until the moment I held their head in my crooked arms that they themselves could ever be hunted. Time to shatter their fraudulent hypothesis. Today I would take from them that which assured their mistaken prowess, the little girls and boys made captive by their frailty, the elderly languishing from malnutrition and medical care. They would know freedom from the wicked and being set free would find their will to stand as Sons and Daughters of God, against the maelstrom of the malignant, risen by the power of hell to consume mankind. Today I prepared a special shame for them in their tortured thinking. I brought with me 50 of the best women fighters I could muster. Women having lost their children to conquest, their husbands to the demons of war their parents to the grave of a world ill equipped to protect them. Today the wicked would know themselves pray, not from superior beings an idea they may plausibly accept but from the clever passions of those they thought incapable of fighting back against their cruel devices.

We had tunneled for months, organized, preparing each yard set in concrete or solid support we burrowed beneath their ramparts from the destruction of the village beyond. It’s cold remnants and darkened puddles reflecting the bombs dropped upon sleeping families were reminder enough of cruelty to give us focus to finish our work. We slept, ate and worked below ground taking care to conceal any egress from our battlements through the caves into the valley beyond enemy scout recon. We had perfect in our practice, not from arrogance but from humility, knowing that our one chance at victory lay in that perfection of execution. We fought for the lives of all those waiting, upon God to come and save them. Well God had sent us today and we prayed by His benevolent mercy that we would be enough to set them free to know the light of His love once again. Our tunnels 98% complete we prepared for distractive entry to draw their attention away from our breach point. In diversion we had stolen a small plane fueled to the top and stuffed with all things flammable. It would create such a conflagration at impact our assault would hopefully go completely unnoticed giving us the minutes needed to enter the hospital cell rooms and remove those for which we mounted today’s assault. We hoped none would die but knew otherwise as our pilot vowed to offer his own life to bring about the perfect diversion for entry. He honored his family as he descended over their walls aiming directly for their arms depot. The war begun.

In the beginning God. He didn’t need us but decided to give a thought in His mind the opportunity to join Him in existence. He knew that though created in His image creation would be messy, turning from Him in rebellious pursuit of various desire. Yet, out of love and the gift of life He would let them navigate those disobedient paths always mindful of letting them get too far from His understanding. He loved them enough to already volunteer to save them when they could not do so themselves and enter the life dimension with them to fulfill the payments, actions and loving requirements to free them from their own race to destruction. However, to achieve this salvation they must make conscious choice of His road going forward being transformed from the original creation into a spiritual evolution to something in much closer resemblance to His nature. This choice would mean their inclusion in the next world to live eternally or exclusion to spend eternity in the punishment with all other rebellious and disobedient creation as just desert for not accepting the free will offer to live forever with God.

We have played out the script for mankind. We being chosen to be alive at the time when the changeover comes have specific understanding and therefore responsibility for man’s transition to eternity whether welcomed into the Family of God or excluded to the lake of Gehanna following a millennia of peace. Each has made a choice or sat upon an imagined fence determined to defy God’s offer to and past the end. We have exercised rebellion’s influence to the nth degree and lacking the capacity to mature have arrogantly turned our faces from the God who made us to pursue the gods of our own manufacture. Whether falln angel or rock imbued with godly imagination we have disrespected the glory in our making and determined that we will somehow escape the judgment of God. Even now men seek to deceive the lot of mankind into believing some transhumanist out exists for mankind, to escape the inevitable and live as a series of cyborg and gene manipulations turn us from man into some science experiment falling outside His prophetic Word. Foolishness is everlasting it appears for some. To others the rest in God is near, may His peace find you ready and having made the choice He requires of all men.

In the Nation made free by the blessings of the Sovereign God we have taken for granted the covering of God’s Grace and chased the limits of our sin. To that end the Lord, being a great Father has allowed His Children to wander into the trouble and ramifications of their disobedience. We as a nation are suffering the direct impact of our disrespect for God’s Blessings and the Warnings that each have heard throughout life. We have sluffed our Steward’s Warrant off onto the few good men who will stand in the gap defending freedom, believing ourselves beyond such duty to defend the liberty’s given to all men. We scoff at God’s offer of Grace and have backslidden, serving the gods of metal, iron and wood thinking ourselves special candidate who may straddle the gap between Earth and Eternity keeping our Grace and living our our worldly desires. The height of all arrogance, believing our wickedness will somehow be overlooked in God’s judgment and those who are Truly wicked will achieve the judgment that we escaped.

We have stood bye as babies have been stolen and their body parts sold as they are yanked from the safety of the womb that bore them to feed the lust of the transhumanists objective. Yes, we have allowed the Scientists in the name of atheism to avoid the truth they all know that it is appointed unto all men once to die and then face God’s Judgment and think themselves ready to provide a fiction found in a cyborg continuance of man’s temporary existence fed by the knowledge in AI gods. The travesty elucidates the magnitude of our abomination, thinking ourselves capable of defying God’s Sovereign outcomes to stand in our own version of His Creation. We have allowed starving children, married children, violated innocent children and children begot to violence to become the norm on our streets ignoring the plight of the few to reward the lusts of the many. We forgot who created us and from whom our blessings have come and now only now are we seeing the pain that unravels in the cloak of our disobedience to the benevolent God who graced us.

The account is coming due and God only God has the sole vote on who shall pay the bills of mankind’s continued rebellion. The original offer remains but with each passing day, each grand step away from the majesty of God we become further deceived by belief in our own sufficiency, when we were never made to stand alone, but to follow God into eternity. God’s Plan is clear that this is the training deciding ground for the real life of everlasting. He knew before creating us what we would do and therefore His brilliance was setting those apart in this life who are obedient to venture with Him in to eternity thereafter. It actually sounds fare and rational when considering that ideal. Why take those born of rebellion with us into the next world when they are always going to spoil the soup. But you see the nature of my arrogance being a man, I always look to someone else as those who deserve His Judgment immediately overlooking my own propensity to rebellion. I am no better than any and the Lord is the sole decision on inclusion in everlasting. I will leave behind my arrogance and pray that God does include me based on the Promise of His Devotion not my own worth or works. It is a gift of God this everlasting Life. I accept that Gift and pray to walk in a manner indicative of a man whose faith shows that he truly believed God. In His Good Name I pray, Jesus Christ the Coming King of All.

Within the day of dreamers, the nightmare seldom ends, for scammers and the schemers and the plot that each defends. They mask themselves in goodness and hide the seldom seen, by telling blatant falsehood about what they’ve done and where they’ve been. In delight a man looks skyward looking for return, he picks up his cross each morning setting out to learn. But in our passing madness we find that we are wrought, desperation and such sadness is all that we have brought. Released from inhibition despair becomes our friend and nightly we find justification for the golems we befriend.

As we near the Ending of what man’s Folly built, we are mired in the quagmire surviving on the silt. We strained the camel nicely and found our place within this world, dancing on the parade deck to see the flag unfurled. But have sworn to falsehood and the crimes that man commits, we wept in our imagination as we’ve worn the shoe that fits. No nuptial’s of celebration no knights so proudly hailed, the sin we’ve lusted after made certain that we failed. To the grave we’ve once been given to rise upon that day At the White Throne find condemnation hoping for the black or gray.

So charming and so damning we promise to do no harm but to those with understanding our words just raise alarm. We care for naught but treasure and the pleasure that our hearts need, to death we bid impoverished to slumber from our greed. Each hope is unfamiliar each passion so quickly known we will reap the right of fashion and the doom from seed we’ve sown. To Lord of liquid pleasure and a measure of bright salt, I’ll tell my tale of glory and how none of this is my fault.

But to God I will be kneeling confessing with my tongue, of the Christ who deserves all glory, I heard about Him when I was young. But in the spirit of confession as the curtain draws a nigh, my very first impression was that all Christian’s Lie. So I am set for home Gehanna and in that fiery lake I will rage on for eternity in the flames of my life’s wake. I wished I listened sooner to the love my Brother’s bid, but had I thought my life was done before they closed the lid. I thought I’d live forever and now I see I will, in agony and weeping I must pay the bill. Though Christ offered me freedom I spit upon the Cross now I will dream of that gift forever counting it all as loss.

What is this heart, that is could withstand such pain? What has God given me that I become able to stand each time again? Can we find a life of mercy, when all we know has been despair? Are their words that speak salvation when I’ve lost the will to care? Is there a way to make things right when all I can remember is the will to hide? Not in me, but because He loved me, I confide.

I confide in the Promised one who knew me in the womb, doing things through the grace of God with each breath that I consume, reaching out to face the perfect dream one they told me would never show. In the midst of wounded memory as a young man running for his life, I found him in the dog house hiding with my life long friend. A hand held out in comfort making it so I could breathe again.

In my pride I ran from Jesus in my humility I fell, you see all the time I thought I understood He knew me much too well. Raging at the nightmare and throwing up my hands in my tears He just smiled as if everything I felt as it had all been planned. In my fury I took hostages and even those I love, Then He touched my shoulder briefly and it my life split open wide. All the pain and the punishment were all I’d ever known, but He showed the scars he took for me I knew then I’d never been alone

I confide in Jesus because He has promised me, to be devoted each and every moment and He’d certainly set me free. He stands upon His promises even when I’ve lost my way, He is the same now and forever and that’s what gets me through each day.

Love’s soft hand upon your heart did not fail in touching the light and kindling the memories that shall sponsor the passage to dream. She is forgone, not as conclusion or taken for granted but in surety of Eternity’s light caress on the mind of those caught in frailty of time’s counting. Where is the amber rose in Winter but in the heart of men who cannot wait to smell the gift of Spring’s launching breeze, content in the knowledge that its petal shall fall freely adored by all.

When not if time wanders off having lost its powerful grip upon life, we will sit quietly in the early light of new day. Dreaming of the unlimited, the undaunted the majesty of God’s Imagination. The soft, rhythmic heartbeat of God’s Call upon your Spirit marks time gently with the turning of the Earth and Stars. Counting sideways on timeline that which is better expressed on the back side of Z Plane upside down propelled immemorial. What graphic or word may express that which is yet comprehended, those things existing without knowledge, defining my universe that I have yet to make familiar.

To Pine for God is time’s precious gift reminding US with tired bones, gray hair and shuffled walk that we are not permanent in this place but only in His presence. This day is not the fulfillment of my purpose for I go on and on walking with Alpha and Omega, learning that which I have yet to behold. Love is my freedom not failing in the simplified wondering that I should be set free here when here we may never be set free but for eternal life’s review. The surrendered are free, the rebellious captive and the irony calls upon each to reconcile. I shall not know my greatest now for I have never met my maker and seen fully His Loving Grace face to face as His Promised Hope is fulfilled in my seeing.

This place is quite pleasant and altogether frustrating as it vacillates from good to worse, joy to dark and weak to seemingly rigid. I suffer the impermanence as my mind seeks flight beyond the comport and controls of gravity, time, sound, space and memory. Written on the tablet of the stars having become part of God’s story of for this and every universe, my name will appear as a small set of chicken scratches on the grant tapestry He weaves. That string, made faithful by the trials and the loving direction and counsel of God, eternity will acknowledge me as one who made the Book. He wrote me in the Book.