An Interlude

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Such an amazing, beautiful thing that is often overlooked.

Breaking up the Weekly What routine with a poem:

Strolling briskly,
I pass some grass,
Shining brightly,
Covered in frost.

Though my fingers
I cannot feel,
The sight strikes me
As quite surreal.

Onto my chest,
I lay down flat
To see, up close,
The grass’s mask.

For a moment,
I am stunned
By the beauty
Of creation.

As I must leave,
Reluctantly,
I thank the Lord
For all I see.

I pause a bit,
Slowly thinking,
And then rephrase
What I was praying:

I thank the Lord
For all I see,
But also for
What is unseen:

The frosty air
Would dare blind me!
The wind would blur,
fog engulf me.

My Savior came
And died for me,
He is the Christ:
My King, unseen.

I walk inside,
Shake off the chill,
As I wonder
And ponder still.

One cannot help
But see beauty
In creation…
Give God all glory.

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What Do You Live For?

What do you live for? It’s a simple question with two ultimate answers: this life, or the next.

What we do in this life is either for this life, or the next. The testimony you have and the legacy you leave behind will continue to affect people’s lives in this life even after you’re dead and gone. When you live for Christ, serving Him faithfully, you are living for the next life and storing up for yourself treasures in heaven:

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
-Matthew 6:19-21 (KJV)

The price is high for Christians to live for Christ; that price is continuing to inflate in this world. Are you willing to give up your life for Christ, or are you holding on to the life you have all planned out? Are you trying to make a name for yourself, or are you letting God make a name for you by serving Him with all humility?

To live a life that outlives us is the Christian’s goal. Our life, its testimony and legacy, should continue to bear witness of Christ. Christ gives us the strength and endurance to live for Him. He is the source of our strength; apart from Him, there is no strength. Seek to live a life for Christ: a life that will outlive you.

Rain Clouds

The clouds move in, so dark and black;
And thunder rolls and lightning flashed.
With fearful eyes and quivering hearts,
We watched the light and dark sides clash.

We cannot know the mystery;
There are things that go unseen.
A battle between good and evil
Is happening behind the scenes.

Rain pours on to the hard blacktop;
Mists rise up to high treetops.
Torrential water falls from above,
As shadows shed their loads, thousands of drops.

The battle continues for a short while,
Until the payloads of ammo are empty
Shadows are scattered across the sky
As the clouds break, revealing the light.

Light wins again, but that’s no surprise:
God is creator, the great Lord of life.
Victory is His, there is no contest;
Shadows for a season, but then ends all strife.

Clockwork Boy

What is wrong, little clockwork boy?
Why so glum? Why no tick-tock joy?

Is it this: that your cogs are clogged?
Is it that this rain made you rust?

Tick: you feel almost right again.
Tock: you fall with no help from friends.

Coiled up springs, interlocking gears;
Wound by hand many times a year.

Without care, the clock starts to slow.
Loneliness causes rust to grow.

Springs unsprung because no one cares.
No friends here; all are unaware.

Broken ropes, worn from constant use.
Cracked axels, hurt by friends: abused.

Who is there to mend; to repair?
Can you run after you are snared?

Have no fear, little clockwork boy.
Christ is near, to fill you with joy.

He can clean; you will be like new.
No more rust; polished and so true.

So smile now, little clockwork boy!
No more fear, no more worthless toy.

Wound up now to face the new day;
Ready to take the step of faith.

Who can know what adventures wait?
Listen now, hear that storm abate?

Weathered, beaten, pummeled, broken;
Another hurt around each bend.

Barely making it through each year,
Enduring every painful tear.

Until, at last, you were found there;
A shadow of what you once were.

Gentle hands picked you up softly;
Showed you a little mystery:

Every crack, every broken piece,
Used to make a fine masterpiece.

All the dents, scratches and scrapes,
Used by God in what He has made.

You are now something grand and new!
More beautiful than crystal dew.

Clockwork boy, loved and cherished too,
You have joy in the black and blue.

So my dear, little clockwork boy;
Never fear, never lose your joy.

I love you dear, always, ever.
Sleep tonight, a peaceful slumber.

One last thought, little clockwork boy…
I love you lots, in Christ: my joy.

Who?

Who makes the clown smile,
When his smile is gone?
Who brings the heart joy,
When the heart desponds?
Who will give direction,
To the weary and lost?
Who will love, forever,
The soul of wanderlust?

Who makes the shadow,
Of things that are seen?
Who makes the birds fly,
On invisible wings?
Who gives me sight,
To see everything?
Who gives us life,
By infinite suffering?

Do you have the eyes to see who it is?
Are you so blinded by all of earth’s gifts?
Deaf to the sounds not heard on earth?
Dead to the touch of angelic mirth?

So wise and so foolish about nothing at all;
A top-notch professor who stands up to fall.
Genius or idiot, I’m still not quite sure;
Give me a few minutes to ponder the squall.

Thunder clashes, winds howl, and day doth frown;
Take all day long to decide: up or down.
With only one second over infinite to spare,
He makes his choice… Who really cares?

Only one cares for the whole world at once;
Only one loves you and pays on a cross.
Only one dies and lives in eternity;
Do you know who he is, oh blind Visionary?

Snow of Grace

Wind howled through the trees;
tearing, biting, breaking me.
Storms of pain and suffering
Left a wasteland lost in grief.

As the storm began to settle;
Slowly, gently, little by little;
The gears stopped their grinding metal;
Silence came with gentle rebuttal.

Falling slowly from the sky,
Stars that twinkled in twilight
Covered the sorrowful, ugly sights;
Point by point they covered my life.

Not all at once, so suddenly,
Was the wreckage covered quickly;
But steadily, gracefully, gradually,
The snowflakes hid all misery.

Every speck of hope from above
Was sent to cover the ugly muck.
I say a prayer of thanks to God
For the snow I love so much.

 

P.S.: The answer to Riddle #2 is “Birch Trees.”