Apathy

Sacrifices are vices unless

True conviction accomp’nies the gift.

Heartless rituals will never bless,

Nor can they ever mend the great rift.

We feign well true repentance and faith,

Rending garments but never the heart.

Ev’ry prophet who preaches, “Thus saith,”

We deny with a devilish art.

Lest we follow destruction’s wide path,

Let us perish the heart’s apathy.

Learn the weight of the Lord’s love and wrath,

And, by his grace alone, let us see.

Transformation

Transformation 2.jpg

Proper fear begets a proper faith.
The foreigner becomes family.
God gives substance to the wraith:
Glorious anomaly.
Grace and mercy meet the guilty heart
Turning stone to living flesh and blood.
Love transforms every part,
Cleansing in the crimson flood.

Mema

Five dollars may not mean that much to you,

And Lincoln’s face may never make you smile.

Casa Ole may never come in view.

You may think eating trash is not your style.

Your Christmas gift may never have been placed

Inside a colored bag upon the tree.

And you, poor soul, may never know the taste

Of Hello Dollies shared with family.

These memories are blessings to the mind,

And thoughts of them do always warm the heart,

For our Mema and Grandad, always kind,

Have played in all our lives the sweetest part.

With thankfulness these words could never say,

We celebrate our Mema’s life today.

Reflection on Psalm 50

At the word of the Maker, the earth
Is brought forth to revolve round the sun
To the praise and the glory of one
Who possesses an infinite worth.
He shines forth from perfection’s high’st form,
From great Zion, with sounds of a choir.
Ev’ry step is preceded by fire;
When he walks, he is shrouded in storm.
His salvation is given, not bought,
For he owns all that we could present.
Sacrifices for vices are spent,
Yet they profit the Almighty naught.
So walk not in the pathways of death.
Ponder life ‘fore your lips claim his pow’r.
Let the fear of the Lord fill each hour,
And let thanksgiving fill ev’ry breath. 

Reflection on Psalm 39

 


Oh know your place, my soul.
Remember that your days are few.
Tis vanity
To live with just this age in view.
Relinquish your control.

Eternal God most high,
Provide perspective to my days.
Tis vanity
To live in conflict to your ways
As death draws ever nigh. 

Stress

(Photo cred: Mitchell Martin – Instagram: @mitchellrmartin )

I started to feel stressed this morning. As I realized how many things I need to accomplish this month, I began to feel the weight of all that responsibility weighing down on me. I’m usually fairly laid back, but, when stress hits, I grow overwhelmed quickly. Continue reading