Battlefield

 

“For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.  And there is no creature hidden from His sight but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him whom we must give account.”  Hebrews 4:12-13 (NKJV)

I am a soldier standing in the field dazed and confused as to the outcome of the battle that played out before me.  Men and woman yelling, spewing their curses to the one for which they attack.  Commanders lead the assault, horsed snort their protest of being pushed in such a futile fight.  Spears and swords sharpened to bring death on the enemy they do not know. 

The One we attack, the One we call our enemy, stands brighter and more glorious than the sun itself on the clearest of days.  The sword in His hand, a fire of glory and power surge from its blade.  We can barely look upon this point of our assault but the commanders still scream their orders to attack.

                Now I stand in tears with many others.  All wondering aimlessly and lost amidst the remnants of a battle that was foolish to pursue.  Our arrogance and pride ripped away, armor tossed aside, cloths shredded, spears and swords shatters.  We should never have fought this battle but foolishness is such a convincing companion.  The cold and nakedness of loss are overwhelming to me in my broken state of defeat. 
                I see the One we attacked, the One we gathered to assault with our biggest and sharpest of weaponry.  He does not gloat over a victory fulfilled or proudly pushing aside the wounded for which the battle left behind.  I stare at this pinnacle of righteousness standing before me.  Tears in His eyes, He wipes the torn and bleeding faces that huddle before him.  His own hands He soils with the dirt we still carry in our grip.  One by one He picks up the wounded and defeated that lye out before Him.  He cleans the wounds and mends the broken.  He gives new garments, clean and white for the shredded threads that no longer cover the naked guilt that we carry.  He kisses each of our heads and calls us His own.  All drop their swords and spears in submission to this One whom they once looked upon as the enemy.  Even those on the verge of death, He breathes life into their lungs and brings them back from the abyss to be His own.  

The sword which he carries becomes a garment of grace, in which he wraps those gathered before Him.  His warmth and peace pour out from the threads of this garment in which He wraps all of His own.  

“The Lord will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble.  And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; for You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You.”  Psalm 9:9-10 (NKJV)

Prosperity vs. Promise

Still Standing

I just read Psalm 73 and for some reason the intensity of it is overwhelming to me.  The wicked and sinful of the world grow in prosperity while those called to Christ struggle to make ends meet.  The sinful become more boastful and arrogant in each passing day, while Christ own are chastised and punished for calling upon His name.  I can’t help but question why is the sin of the world allowed to run so rampantly and become so acceptable.  . 

                “For I was envious of the boastful, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.” Psalm 73:3

Just watch the evening news for fifteen minutes and the acts of man make you just want to break down in tears.  Men tear each other down to rubble and self indulgence is considered the acceptable choice.  Christ word is thrown to the fire as men turn to sin as their given right.

“They scoff and speak wickedly concerning oppression; they speak loftily.  They set their mouth against the heavens, and their tongue walks through the earth.”  Psalm 73:8-9

I look at my life and know I am guilty of questioning the why’s in the world.  It’s a matter of vision that I know I have questioned more than once without completely comprehending my own thoughts.  The Psalmist struggled and questioned these things just as I have and wanted to look as his own acts of obedience as vanity.  Why should we obey?  Why walk in righteousness when sin brings visible prosperity. 

                “Surely I have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my hands in innocence.” Psalms 17:13

Even people who claim the word of God as their calling to action forget the truth of who Christ really is.  They take up violence as their calling, using God as their reason for shedding blood instead of speaking Christ’s Love.  “He who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” (1 John 4:8)  War, hatred, false submission and acceptance seem to be the winning parties in these last days. 

“When I thought how to understand this, it was too painful for me – Until I went into the sanctuary of God; Then I understood their end.” Psalm 73:16-17

From my small place in this picture, the portrait as a whole seems hopeless and futile.  But then I see God’s heart, Christ’s words and the promises that He gave.  Then I see that the WAR HAS BEEN WON, the victory has been given!  The actions of the wicked are temporary but the promises of God are everlasting.

“As a dream when one awakes, So, Lord when you awake, You shall despise their image.” Psalm 73:20

I know to whom I belong and to what purpose my life will serve.  Though the world does not know Him, He is still present and he has already won the war.  The world will continue to rebel against Him but He will continue to be present.  He will not leave or forsake those who call upon His name.  He will fulfill His promise of Love to those who call upon Him.  Our prosperity does not look like that of the world.  Our treasure does not rust or crumble.  Our reward cannot be stolen or destroyed. 

“Who have I in heaven but You?  And there is none upon earth that I desire besides you.  My flesh and heart fail; but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:25-26

Though the skies seem dark and the storms churn on a violent offensive, I know to whom I belong and why I have continued to live the life of obedience.   To Jesus I belong and to Him I obey.  “God is love” and to Him I surely belong.

 

Honor Thy Father and Mother

Piece of The Past

I can hear the television blaring in the other room.  My father can’t hear vary well and so in response it gets turned up to theater blasting volume to compensate for his difficulty in hearing.  As long as I don’t mind hearing the theme music to Magnificent 7 in every inch of the house it really isn’t an issue.  How many people understand what it’s like to have someone who fits in this category within their home?  I imagine many do and many know the work and care involved with taking care of someone who unfortunately at this point is no longer the person they once were.  Sometimes you have to correct them for doing something they shouldn’t, like give the cat table food when the cat, who has a potential medical issue really can’t have it.  It gets frustrating and stressful sometimes, reminding, explaining and answering questions but am I above this responsibility for any reason.  Am I for some reason worthy of not having to take care of those who spent a large part of their adult life bringing me into and carrying me through this life?

I realize how easy it is to categorize people in separate groups, the young, the adult, the middle aged and the old.  It’s as if we are separate races sometimes and not all the same people.  How often do we look at someone who is older and dealing with a physical or mental condition that is slowly stealing their independence to life and completely forget the fact that is person once was us?  They once were the young vibrant youth, making mistakes and living on the edge.  Do any of us really realize that those eyes and hands have seen and touched more time and places than their mind may ever know?  They were once the youthful foolish folly that I still hold on to.  I try to be the adult with spouse and family, attempting to be the responsible parent.  At times it seems like a nearly impossible task that really should come with an instruction manual and perhaps a map to guide the way. 

Ever look in the face of a person whose hair is thin and white and skin is creased with the years of their journey and wish you could ask them their story.  Ever just want to know, what have they seem and heard? What have they learned on their road that perhaps I can use as I still struggle to take my journey and still cutting my path through this deep intense jungle of life.  Remember those who came before you.  Remember they are not strangers or aliens, they are just you. Their hair may be a little whiter and steps a little smaller but at one point in their lives they were the daredevil or the singer or the jokester or the hero.  They walked the steps we now take and made the mistakes we are now facing.  It may seem like a bother sometimes or a burden but never forget that it is not that high a price to pay for a life that has concurred so much and seem so many things.  They become the teachers and we are the students.  Give them a hand or an ear because they already gave so much and we can at least give our best to make these years truly blessed.  At this point in their lives they deserve the mansion on the hill because they truly did work for it.

Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you. Exodus 20:12 (NKJV)

The Roaring Mind

Devil's Den

The mind, the most powerful instrument or organ God ever created.  It has the power to creature beauty or bring destruction.  It is the source of words and actions that can restore life or steal it away.  It can be like a raging bull, unable to be controlled or corralled.  It can be a diligent conductor, directing the mouth and body to do things of strength and honor.  It can go mad, it can be brilliant.  The mind is so intriguing, yet so dangerous.  We try to understand it, try to quiet it.  At times we attempt to control it or want to erase it.  How can we truly understand it? 

I have seen my mind feel broken and weak; it has been wild and a blur.  I have seen it be brilliant and beautiful, creative and loving.  I have seen the full spectrum of emotion and thought travel through this organ that is my brain.  I understand hate, I understand loathing and darkness.  I understand longing and loneliness.  I have seen my mind wish for death, long to be brought to its end.  I have seen it yearn for the future and dream of the beyond.  It has gone wild and has been halted to a complete stop.  At times I fear my mind, I fear what it will think, what it will long to do.  Will I lose it, will I forget it.  It is the one thing that without we are nothing.  It defines us, makes us the personality we are.  No matter how far science advances, the mind is the one thing that cannot be recreated or replaced.  We can create limbs and replace organs, graft skin and grow hair, rebuild bone and restore tissue but the mind is irreplaceable.

Can anyone control this raging lion that stirs in my skull?  He roars and lashes demanded to be noticed, commanding to be heard.  My mouth at times opens in a flood of words or remains locked to imprison the whirling inside.  The only peace I have, the only tamer of my thoughts, the one who can conquer the raging beast, He is the only one who can see the depths of my turmoil, bring light to my darkness.  He has gone to the depths physically, mentally and emotionally yet was not defeated by the beast that resides there.  He defeated the beast that lurks in the darkness and whispers his detestable lies into my ears.  Jesus Christ alone has been the only true tamer of this ravenous creation that is my mind!

 For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. II Timothy 1:7 (NKJV)

The King

Shine as the Rose



The king on his throne, crown of jewels upon his brow, rings on his fingers and gold sandals on his feet.  We stare in awe at the riches of his leisure and envy the power at his word.  Servants bring him bread and maids pour his wine.  They fill his bath with perfume and his bed with the plushest of pillows.  His wardrobe lavish and garments weaved of the finest in thread.  Oh how we wish for the luxuries of his life. 

                But do you see the burden, the heavy load of his bear?  His mind ever scans the tasks of his place.  The cart of questions and needs ever follow him around.  One after another they come, with complaint and want.  They throw their burdens ever forth before this, their king.  Upon his seat, no matter how plush the fabric or how sweet the wine, the burdens ever fall forth to lie at his feet.  Like rocks they fall to weigh down the one whom they are given.

                Do you stand back, lean by the wall, the shadows to conceal?  Do you watch the small and the weak as they bow at his feet?  Do you scoff their torn cloths and laugh at their bare feet?  They present their best treasures to this their king, whether small chicken or basket in hopes for his favor.   You watch as they come through to give of what they don’t have in hopes of much more.  You watch as the king takes great pride in their coming and thinks hard upon their needs.  He gives them his guidance and sends them on their way.  You laugh at this man, this one who is king.  Why do they bow at his feet?  Why do they humble before he?

                But what you don’t see is the biggest truth of all.  Yes they bring gifts of small and of feeble but in return what they received is so vary mush more.   This king set before you, he does not take of what they don’t have and leave them with less.  He gives them not only wisdom and discerning but treasures much more.  He loves these who come to his feet and guides their every step.  He heals their deep wounds and wipes away their stray tears.  He opens up his store house to give more than they have.  He gives cloths for their backs and food for their tables. He builds shelter for their families and protects their very lives.  He gives justice to their disparity and hope to their eyes.

                He does not give because of his wealth or because of his stature.  No, these are his people and for them he gives love.  They which give what little they have, he returns so much more.   

 

 

And He has on His robe and on His thigh a name written: KING OF KINGS AND

Lord OF LORDS.  Revelations 19:16 (NKJV)

The Tree

Stretch Its Branches

A tree, it grows and stretches, never giving up its incessant attempt to touch the heavens.  It holds steady with the seasons, blooms in the spring and flourishes through the summer.  With the approach of fall, the chills and the wind, it hunkers down for the approach, the challenge ahead.  Steady at work it stores up its strength.  It gives up its leaves, renouncing its beauty, continually focused forward on the waiting sleep ahead.  With winter comes the storm, snow and the hail.  The feel of endless cold and relentless dark persists.  Waiting and still, the tree patiently sleeps, persevering and holding on for the return of spring.  It never gives up or runs away, it remains rooted and strong, feeding on the storehouse within.   

As the tree, life encounters seasons, times of joy and times of pain.  In times of summer and warmth, I stretch out my branches as the tree and dance with the clouds.  But in times when cold and bitterness attach, they bite at my roots and pull at my limbs. Do I stand strong and steady, do I hunker down and wait for the return of spring.  Do I feed on the storehouse within or do I starve and wither?  Do I bring in the nourishment of life or do I waist away in death?

The tree pushes its roots, breaking slowly through the rock and the soil.  It pulls in the water of life and minerals of strength.  It works tirelessly through the summer making its food.  It works persistently to store for the long winter ahead.  It pulls in the air, basks in the light, diligently at work on the task at hand.  It works in secret, only for its maker to see.  The eyes of the world cannot see its labor but only its beauty.  They envy its size, longing for its splendor but unknowing of its tiresome work.    

I am the tree and God is my gardener.  He plants me in fertile soil and brings waters to my roots.  He pours out sunlight over me and blows fresh air through my branches.  He keeps me rooted and tends my limbs.  He binds His Words within my depths and stores up his strength with my limbs.

I work day and night within the seasons of feasting, not to squander away or waste the hours but to store up my soul for the long winters ahead.  I feast on Your Word and drink of Your spirit.  I toil and tire to continually be filled with Your nourishing Life. 

I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing. John 15: 5 (NJKV)