Devotion

 

Lay down together, friends. Roar lion, roar! Silent lamb to slaughter. A child will lead them. Lay down together, friends. Speak and nations bow. Swords to ploughs. The harvest is plenty. Lay down together, friends. Prince of peace. Hallelujah, angels sing. Saints awake. Lay down together, friends. Lay down on holy ground. Lay down your weapons. Lay down your burdens. Lay down together, friends. This is the end.

Written in the depth of the Pandemic: "I am essential!"    The preacher roars in his hundred dollar suit.  His hundreds strong holy huddle of pew warmers burst into an applause of rapture as they prepare for the second offering.  The TV channel switches to pre-recorded "Tele-Evangelist mode".  The cheers echoe through the giant money making machine.  Like an idol his image flashes across giant screens in the auditorium.    As he speaks he suddenly remembers his brother across town.    In an old tin tabernacle the gentle shepherd speaks to his flock.  "I am not essential... Except the Lord builds the house the builders build in vain."  He says this while ministering in a soup kitchen as he serves the needy.  Later that day he plans to do food drops and work in a care home.  At evening prayers his prayer would be as he helped refugees at the docks and prisoners in the cells.  Then at night he would minister on the streets as a practical pastor to the needy a

Time goes marching on. Many an empire has come and gone. Yet we remain. Watching the ticking clock and the sifting sands of time. Time goes marching on. Many a friend has been and gone. Yet we remain. Watching the ticking clock and the sifting sands of time. Time goes marching on. Many a soul has been lost and won. Yet we remain. Watching the ticking clock and the sifting sands of time. Time goes marching on. When our time comes, if we are remembered or not, will the love sown remain as time goes marching on?

Gathering of light. Sacred assembly of love. Age of war, hate, and strife. The day of the martyrs has just begun. Blood stained standing stones. Anabaptists tears, angels song. The day of the martyrs has just begun. Ice cracks, foe falls. Pilgrim saves. To burning he must go. Stands fast, dies slow, proclaims love for all to know. The day of the martyrs has just begun. *** Published in the anthology Poetic Velocity. This poem reflects on the powerful faith and love of many Christian martyrs. The main one is the story of Dirk Willems who was an Anabaptist Christian martyr. He was being hunted for his faith and he turned back to save his enemy when his enemy fell through some ice. Dirk was burnt at the stake for his faith despite his merciful gesture. He entered heaven with a clean conscience.

 

Today at Church the preacher was taking us through a series of the book of Acts. We were at Acts 10 today. One thing that stood out to me in our study together was that Acts 10 is not just about food (as a vegetarian/pescatarian I sigh with relief). It is rather more about not being ultra exclusive, writing off others instead of loving them. None of this "gentles are out we are in!" Or whatever race or church we love the least being out and us being in. No, God wants to bless all the families. Children of Abraham and earth. One and all. Another point that spoke to me was that Peter's ministry and ministry as a rule is marked by - Rest Pray Ponder Obey Notably one of the features of obedience is being more welcoming of "the other." "So if you’re serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up

I was given a challenge to look at scripture, not through the eyes of a cessationist (someone who feels the supernatural gifts were only for biblical times), but as someone who thinks the Holy Spirit is still active in that area today. So after reading some scriptures in this way I discovered three things - Suffering is expected. I am not a cessationist. It is OK to ask why. This is the notes from a presentation I was asked to give on that very topic: IT IS OK TO ASK WHY Never stop asking. Rebekah, Moses, Israel, Gideon, Naomi, Nehemiah, Job, The Psalmists, David, Asaph, Heman, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Habakkuk, The Disciples and Jesus all asked why. "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" SUFFERING IS EXPECTED  Smooth seas do not make skilful sailors. Equally true is that faith anchors the soul. If we get that miracle or not, it is up to God. Our job is to be faithful in the little things. God dispenses miracles as He sees fit for His own glorious purposes. Sometimes miracles

Behold the Sunrise of God's infinite Grace. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness, a child was born. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness a boy stunned the religious elite. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness a man preaches love and performs miracles. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness he is humiliated, mocked, tortured and killed, his body on display. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness he is buried by followers, crushed, forsaken. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness HE RISES AND DEFEATS DEATH! In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness he forgives the followers who abandoned and denied him. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness he is still forgiving. In an age of war, disasters and all out wickedness HE IS COMING AGAIN! Behold the sunrise of God's infinite Grace! *** This poem won an award at allpoetry.

Alone it floats on the water, lit by a child, a call for peace amidst the wars. Its a sign to beckon the weary to come. Slowly more candles are lit, More people come. They come, not to curse the darkness. They simply come to light a candle. Soon the water reflects so much light. Broken and surrendered they come. Softly without words or song they minister. In prayer and stillness they gather. The ever-growing, universal vigil for peace has begun.