The Faithful Watchmen

The watchmen standing guard at the watchtower; the last but not the least, without wavering they stood their watch.

On the horizon, though the invaders  has seized the gates; yet they remained still and in constant watch.

But on the seventh day and on the seventh trumpet sound, the Great King will appear; ready to make war and to reign in righteousness.

The age of the coming King will soon come to pass. Then when the Holy One will come, they will be rewarded.

He is to reward the virtuous; those found faithful despite of great prosecution.

Those who their reproach has been blotted and covered by the blood, made new and in the image of  the Great King.

Rejoice! For the sojourner will no longer wear sackcloth. They will walk uprightly in that day and without ashes on his head.

They will no longer lament and fast but will have plenty to eat on feast days.

Reformation is served on the platter of gold. The portion of fat and meat is plenteous, a workman worthy of his wages.

Lordship over the earth for all that remain, they will rule with the King of kings.

Joyful days are coming all you saints, on His right hand is justice and on the left is peace .

When all the kings will come from the north, they will bow at the King's feet. Justly He will reign and deliver the spoils of war to the meek. 

At the new Jerusalem, He will rule. He will appoint his kings to rule with Him and His kingdom will never end.

Sowing and reaping: the evil seeds

Can a man sow an apple and reap oranges?

A river can flow from the east to the west but will the great river flow in reverse?

All the elements of the earth have their place.

The whirlwind comes from the circle of air, the storm comes from the water; an inferno is a blaze of fire.

Can a mustard seed produce a tree?
What have we sown?

Eat the fruit and wash not your hands; come and dine with me and I will rejoice in your calamity.

Plant today and reap tomorrow; Oh you corrupt seed, when have you been good?

When I labored in vain where you not there to collect all my wages?

He that has nothing; gets nothing.

But I have planted and I have harvested, I have given and I have received. 

All I have now is my harvested crops, I have paid for it all and my heart is in deep sorrow.

Our Father in heaven

The path to You is not by chariots,  not by silver and gold, not the wise nor the nobles can approach You.

The mighty once shot an arrow,  they once build a city and on one day, You destroyed their plan.

The wicked set their siege, and on the day of reckoning they came out scattered and without knowledge.

Those that stood at the gates, many that came from the east and the west, their wisdom You thwarted by the simplest things.

The rich buy their goods, they pay their way out of trouble, the merchant and the souls of men will they treasure. Like a  restless hunter searching for a prey.

In Your presence their riches are like moths . They will curse and cast them off on that day!

The sign and the wonders of Your great Name!

The Lord is always in the midst of His people.

His delight is in the way of the righteous.

He goes up and down and sends a helping hand, He keeps watch and gives hope to His little children.

A man  goes on the journey, on the journey met few friends , he comes back and being a son of a king.

He gave sonship to his friends, because he loved them so, and died for them, they became his.

His friends once asked about the greatest in the King's palace. He told them to have nothing but a childlike faith, and that His Father in heaven is welcoming little children home.

These children are the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.

A road less travel

The road is far and I come to a dead end, I stood and look and I felt deserted. I pressed through and broke an ankle. Lord I am frustrated by the journey but I just worship,

The wilderness is dark and I see no sunlight,  I was naked and felt alone,  my heart is trouble and the mournful days increased. Lord I am feeling lonely but I just worship.

My bones are out of my joint, I eat from the sweat of my brow every day and my body is torn. All of my strength is gone and my eye sight is fading. Lord I am tired of living but I just worship.

Storms of life is closing in on me, I walk with a heavy burden; shackles around my waist and a bag of stone on my back; with every step, I wobble and can't seem to get my bearing. Lord I am overwhelmed but I just worship.

I am on two junctions, staggering towards two lanes, at times heading southward,  a place with plenty of worldly distraction, fondling with sin and going to the broader path. Lord I am confused but I just worship.

Brush me up and set me apart, oil my face and hold me up on my feet, give me food and water and a restful night.

For the days are approaching where no man can work, the evil days are at hand and I need Your strength.

I need to carry Your message to one more town. There are my adversaries and I have no strength. Fight for me dear Lord Jesus but while I wait , I will just worship.

Colors of Creation

The work is done; like a beautiful  shining star that abodes on the nebula.
Where did such a beautiful jewel come from?

Stitched with colors of the rainbow, and with its radiance, the colors of Heaven can only reflect it's rays.

Moreover, found as the centerpiece of all decorous; the beauty, immaculate. A gem dugout beneath the surface of the earth.

Cut and polished with water and fire, like a lapidary with his final masterpiece, shaping out the rough edges.

Now on the far north side, not in the corners where I found you, the beautiful artwork now in display.

Have any ordination been able to reach such plateau as this? Let all mouth be silenced, only let the  heart be the judge.

For such beauty was only refined for the hearts to worship only the Creator.

In search of life

The marathon man

How I have seen this before, the man who wondered through life looking for answers in the wrong places.

The shadow of my life, in the twilight of the past seems unbearable, the levity of great confounded beliefs, so I was told is now plagued with opacity. Founded on the road to where I lay myself, barred and vulnerable. On the road, hoping for answers whereby I gain no understanding and favourable conditions. A marathon where the bystander gives no  such applauds.  A shadow behind me whispers salacious words to my ears, calling me out from the path I was chosen to run. Direct him towards his ancestors path, with attributes that is misshapen and corrupted, the words would say. Go ahead, feed him poison thus waiting for my slow departure along the roadside. And as I continued towards the journey of unknown,  I remembered how the man of sorrow once walked the pattern of life. The insults, the stench of a corrupt world that surrounded him, he was the song of drunkards, as they mocked. Once a loner, walking through the smothering atmosphere of pain. The shame he bored, while also looking at his future, a man soon to be cut off in the land of the living. I found him only at the end of his life. But then again he found me, I willfully surrendered, undeviating I walked beside him, in his footsteps we danced in harmony, as he was transfigured, I see such reverence, such life. He was buried in my corruption, raised for my justification.

The spirit man

Who are those that come to me? Aren't them those that have been battered, beaten and that the catastrophe that came to them they wouldn't withstand, for how else shall I make myself known to them?Those that I called out from the beginning to be my priest upon the earth, I will forever live in their hearts. For ever since the beginning, the entire creation had been groaning. The sons of Esau and Jacob, weren't they brothers diverted to two different paths? But only one that traded all his spiritual heritage as another retains it. The man of the flesh will be the man of the flesh, the spiritual man is spiritual, yet all by my sovereignty. Let me tell you that the carnal man can't absorb the light of heaven, for I am Spirit and Truth.

walking in the spirit

The  lost man falling from grace, weary of all his labours, lacking life and have lived in a lie. He comes to the end, meets his Savior, the redemption of the man at last, lost man has been nail to the cross, the self made man has died there, at the Author of Peace bosom he rest, at the Anointed One he sees, at the King of Kings feet he bowed, at the Prince of life he is resuscitated back to life, the strong tower. A new man he becomes, still the struggle, many questions of an unknown and unfamiliar path he encountered, no longer does he live for himself, yet justified, yet peaceful, in his redemption truth is revealed, but still restlessness of the mind, emotions and will. As he begins to question, he becomes much impatient. Rest of redemption, a voice replied, "you are learning to walk again". Walk? Man responds. "Walk in Me", the voice replied.

Break the yoke, oh God!

Aha, the enemies have come; the butchers have come for their pound of meat.

Remember the days of your ancestors when we came for them and pour out the sins of their fathers upon them?

We were more gruesome and each paid the penalty for their sins.

Now the time has come when we have assembled in our units to come after you.

We carry only machetes and with empty bowls to fill your blood in it; we called the prince of death and he is without mercy.

The mark is with you and on your  bloodline we shall follow.

All the male and female, generations to generations let us devour.

Now I have seen evil, the enemy of my destiny has come. The Lord have chosen me yet there's an adversary.

For all my days are trouble and peace has left my side.

Come for me Lord, I looked for the doctors and my counselors, they rather gave me vinegar for my thirst.

The friends of mine that sat at my bedside only sang melodies, they knew not how to comfort me.

The enemies of my soul have increased and I am trapped in the Valley of Slaughtervale.

Once I searched and came across a town, I looked at the corners and found a few men of old. 

They sound at ease and had no trouble and on their hearts was the name " The Branch " written.

Although there weren't as nourished like others yet they sang with joy.

They were like pillars and seemed as though their trees were deeply rooted.

Though the wind came and battered them and the rain flooded their pathways; yet they remained still, like an oak tree.

Take me to that place of rest oh God,  help me and bring me to the place where I will stand despite the fiercest storm!

Though my enemies have surrounded me; keep me in Your perfect peace, were I will lay my head on Your lap and sleep throughout the stormy night.

The Walking Dead

What really matters in this life?  Who is really living?

Where truly can we find life's true meaning?  Where can we find life's  precious jewels.

Who is he that is alive? Who is he that moves about life with ease?

A man, all his days he finds a book that he hadn't read: himself.

A day gone by without understanding, but what the Wicked One has offered him is a facade baked in self-determination.

All his life there are two pages presented before him:  the book of knowing and the book of feeling.

These pages are never the same, nor is it cut out from the same cloth.

One is a front door, the knowing or knowledge.

Another is the side door, the feeling, or fantasy.

But for the feelings,  he will run away from the front door, to take the side door, whisper to his heart,  and say it is ok, I am alright. 

He will dance and laugh, eat and sleep, give and take, all will be good he says.

But how can he really find peace,
Truth and hope?

How can he deal with suffering? How long can he cope beneath the pain? How much can he really love?

Now the deepest matter is the front door which he fear to walk into. For in it, lies life true meaning, value and purpose.

Two Nations in the Womb

How is it that we were close but forever distance,  one world with two nations, born to be separated.

For Edom, we wrestled in the womb, and as we tussle: I grabbed you by the heal. Your might was in your bow and arrows , a hunter and a man of the field.

You cared only the things of the flesh and deny your spiritual inheritance!

You lived to eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you may die!

Though I came out second, yet you served me. For there was no destiny found in you.

You were unfaithful with the sacred gifts. How strange to dwell in tents at Canaan.

I remembered when we lived together on one plain.

Now the grapegatherers are at your gates; they have been patiently seeking for your destruction; now is the time for the harvest.

Now the lines were drawn. At the clefts of the rock, when we draw our last breath and fell on your laps, you gave us no water to drink.

All the while you led in the oppressors to carry your own brother to the far east country, and what about our substance? You divided it amongst yourselves.

How wicked is Edom? A brother in the flesh and an enemy in the spirit.

But on the sight of the Lord he found you out, and have given you away as He sees fit.

There will be no more of you; your wickedness have tip the scale and the Lord Almighty has found you guilty.

God of my rock

My Shield and my Refuge, what can the arrow of my enemy do to me?

Shot from the top of the mountains,  with long metal blades, the wind has kept it steady, now it hits the target.

Who will endure such pain? Who can withstand such thrust?

Perhaps for a few while the pain will lessen; maybe time will heal all wounds; or the pleasures of sin  perhaps, will gradually sooth all the pain away.

But who will heal a broken spirit?  Who will mend the broken hearts?

Breathless still; searching for an antidote to heal the wounds.

Can you find rest in a broken world, a world filled with heartaches?

A world where the loner lays his head at night while soiled in tears?

Who will shield me from all the constant trials? Who can comfort me and hear my groaning which words cannot utter?

Surely there is a One that heals all broken hearts.

Indeed there is a place called a City of Refuge, where the righteous run to and hide.

Christ, the Rock of all foundation.