The helping Hand.

Forever you are worthy,

I have seen what the naked eyes fail to see,

On the bank of the river you stood alone,

Calling my name out, from the midst of the people,

Going to and fro the earth,

I saw no path,  though I travelled throughout the outer banks,

Come out from them,  leave the stack of stones, that has weighed you down,

Then I looked upon,

There you were,

Walking towards the gate,

Feeling lighter at each step, as I get closer,

How I wished to be just as you are, light and gentle, quiet and peaceful,  eyes filled with deep love.

Quite in the stormy sea,  oh dear. the weight on me, 

Pulling me down, 

Reaching down in my slumber,

You carried me out of the waters,

Rest, you have more ways to go, then you breathed into me and I was comforted.

The Narrow Path

Forsaking the lifestyle wasn't an option,  I was in the enemy's camp,  held captive against my will.

Surrendering to the slightest trap, my eyes full of adultery, with every stride that leads to nowhere.

Farewell, I said to this life and come into the new world. But to where? Is not all there is to this life?  To eat, drink and merry for tomorrow we will die?

The days of the Renaissance, that is what I remembered, the classical arts, the literature,  music filled with pervasive rhythms, the humanist way of copping with perverted world.

Masking my shame with more indulgence of sex, and alcohol,  camping out with a companions of peasants,  whose minds are forever fixated in strange idealistic notion.

Given to much wine, only drew me to deeper depression, the sounds and light, songs of a place,  pictures of towns, crowds of happy couples,  filled my heart with sadness. Where is God? I said.

Suffocating in my own Lust, I saw no hope,  no companion, all but me in a lonely room,  with the four walls gazing at me,  and laughing at my distress, a life full of nothingness.

Then I rose up, must've missed the snooze button on my alarm clock, howbeit it was Sunday,a day I reserved for hangover recovery. What now?  Go to church?

A place filled with old hags, little children, unhappily married folks,  boring sermons that only make me yawn and fall off my seat.

Yet at this stage what do I have to lose? Staggering towards the lighthouse, the walk of a narrow path, the Iridescent rays, in the place I hear familiar songs, songs of victory.

Songs of victory? Mind racing like a speed of light, I can hear my heartbeats as I take each step towards the altar, there I surrendered, there I found my place of rest. Safely in His arms,  Safely in the arms of Jesus.

Let My King Come

The Name that is no other,
Bestowed upon the Father, the Righteous One.
He rides, with healing in His wings.

On his thigh was a robe and the name on his thigh was a name only the Father knew.

The bare foot of him baring the scars, the hands wounded which He bore for me.

A pathway made for him,  as the banner is raised high, A loud trumpet  sounds in accordance with the shout of the saints.  "Alleluia!

Yet tightly he holds the reins,  as the white horse gallops with intent and with one purpose, to establish His Kingdom .

The King has appeared, he is the root of David, the Beloved of the Father, faithful in his promises, The One Great King.

Where is the One that was to return?  The question now being answered, Here he is, now riding in triumphant for all eyes to see.

He that is true, his words,  his life, his death, his resurrection, his ascension,  his return all basking in glory.

"He is The Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of Man, coming down in glory!"

The Sound of a Broken Trumpet

When the trumpet from the north is blown , you will be left behind, because you did not hear Me.

Seeing that you have rejected your Savior, I now turn you over to a depraved mind...

How long did we endure such trouble?

Coming from the north, I heard a sound but it was a sound like a broken trumpet.

And a song of such about a town,  a place of dreams,  where all the poor miserable children ate bread and wore royalty clothings.

Even those poor souls we've seen roaming around like nomads across the earth.

I gave attention to the sound, I reasoned and came to a conclusion, that they were more souls who made it out from the south of the country, to a place called The Great White Throne Judgment.

By reasoning, they were able to conclude that such place never existed,  all but a fairy-tale  told to little children who misbehave. 

For the place we call home, is here and now and such stories  only weary me. 

Foxes have Holes

Let the fox have his way, the crying Fox at every drop of the hat.

A river of tears overflowing the banks now, flooding throughout the streets.

Bring the jugs and buckets, fill it with tears  and pour the tears back into the ocean because the teary-eyed  Fox has not ceased  from crying.

Come out to the pasture oh you lazy fox , Come out to the fruitful land and plow.  The seasons of harvest awaits not for the slothful.

The grapes at the grapevines are fallen from its stem at every wind blow.

Come out of your little hole,  you lazy Fox and work.

If not, by tomorrow you will be eating  sawdust,  the fruit are falling at every moment.

Stand in the Sun and tilt your ground, water the plant and rake the leaves.

Come out to the pasture,  oh you lazy fox, all the fruits are ripe for the season .

But the fox waits on, the holes where the fox lives is quite warm and cozy .

I have meat for the morning and for the night  says the lazy fox.

The day seemed as the same as before, the land will continue to produce good crops.

The land will never be desolate,  every season will always yield it's crops. 

But the sun did came, scorched the crops, the fox now at his hole, nothing for today and nothing for tomorrow.

The work is at the field, the laborers are few.

Foxes have holes, but the Son of Man, has nowhere to lay His head.

Let the laborers work their ground for the Son of Man comes with a reward.

Let the fox sleep; for tomorrow will never come.

Depravity of man

Depravity of man,

My heart is deceitful and desperately wicked,  I am a rebel,  it is what I am .

I am born in trespasses and sin, I was born dead from the womb.   I am dead in transgressions.

My mind corrupted , my emotion filled , my will ingrained , all corrupted by sin.

Captive I was held by the love of sin,  the love of darkness makes me stay far away from God.

I do not understand the things of God. Ignorance is my companion. I am totally depraved, and fallen,  yet my sinful lifestyle seems right to me.

Willfully I continue to live in sin, suppressing the truth of God in unrighteousness. I am depraved from my head to toe.

My mind hostile toward God, I reasoned, I kicked,  I wrestled ; for my flesh is not subjected to the law of God. Totally unable to stand. 

Then the Gospel of Christ, the Gospel of Christ made me free. Free from trespasses and sin. Now I am a new creation and the old things have passed. The old has become new.

So now I can live.

Castles in the air

Castles in the air , a hope given to arouse my curiosity , a fantasy without fruition,  let just the air out, full of promises,  far reaching,

Castles in the air, a wishful thinking, lies that lure the young pigeon,  playing with the smoke of fire, telling of moonlight stories, sky gazing, clouds without rain. 

Castles in the air, a fairytale to the dying man,  songs of hope to the hopeless, like a vinegar given for a thirst, a world full of empty dreams of savory,  never-ending yet never fulfilling.

Castles in the air,  echoes of words,  scales weighed with vanity,  an icing without the cake,  mopping and thriving, hoping for a better yesterday , letting down fishnets with holes, marching at the beat of hallow drums, seeking truth from lying lips.

Castles in the air, songs played when dance has stopped,  looking for hope without The Future,  holding the lanterns without Oil, having a form of godliness and denying The Power Above.

Now I see A castle like no other, the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the One True Castle.

A Castle made without hands,  a Castle full of life, a castle of light,  a castle full of love,  a castle full of grace, the One True Castle.

The Triune God of love

See how the Father loves the Son,
A beloved Son before the beginning of the Earth,
The Father and Son, gazing  upon each other and how possible to extend their love
Now is the time to create humans, the object of Our love
Give them a free will so they can love as we do
Let them come to Us and love Us freely as We do, for We know that Our love is without limits, so likewise let them have it.
See how the Spirit moves in love without regard across the darkness of the Earth

Let us create a Garden of Love, in it, We will put man in the mist of it.
Create him to be in Our image; for today, We will see Ourselves in him and they will see Us in themselves.
Let Our love be perfected  in him, for this day, the spirit of man will unite with his  Maker and Our love will be complete.