Our homes were never meant to harbor hell,
And none but this one did so quite so well.
Just past these doorposts lies a darkened world,
And past these portals, horrors are unfurled;
And hopeless are these walls, for want of light
Doth plague this home inhabited by night.
A broken staircase hides the higher realms,
The faded family portrait overwhelms,
And traces of the life that could have been
Are broken on the floor, this devil’s den.
The ghosts of my forefathers walk these rooms.
This dwelling place is home to many tombs,
Memorials to tragedy and pain.
The curse of ages past has left its stain.
Corruption reaches to the cornerstone.
This house was built of blood and born of death.
This history still haunts the present time.
The forlorn fate of this dead wood and stone
Is to keep from its occupant the breath
That urges him to flee, to fight, to climb.
Photo by Daniel Olah on Unsplash
What comes to your mind when you think of the Psalms?
Soul, be silent. Listen well.
Hope in God, and pray.
He who saved your soul from hell
Will bring you through this day.
Worry never. Doubt him less.
Know that he is God.
Learn to live in humbleness,
And trust your Shepherd’s rod.
Fix your focus. Do not shirk.
Stand as he has stood.
He will cause all things to work
Together for your good.
If this day should end in death,
Sing the last refrain.
Faithful to the final breath,
At last, to die is gain.
Photo by Artem Sapegin on Unsplash
This weekend, I saw the church in action.
Christ upon the tree
Christ in place of me
Bearing heaven’s righteous wrath
Sacred Son’s blood: cleansing bath
Salvaging my heart for thee
Clarified the path
Photo by Hugues de BUYER-MIMEURE on Unsplash
Asking for prayer is not just a sanctified sympathy request (though I often unconsciously see it that way). Continue reading
The heart that hurts to hold the hand
Of one who shares both heart and name
Can only ever understand
The purpose past the painful game
By fixing eyes upon the Lord
Who sov’reignly provides for needs
And knowing that the piercing sword
Is severing the sickly weeds
Which would corrupt the growing fruit
For which we labor, trust, and pray.
God sees the garden at the root
And guides us toward the light of day.
Photo by Natalie Collins on Unsplash
(Photo by Kari Shea on Unsplash)
I believe one of the greatest blessings God has given to his people is the gift of friendships. Continue reading
(Photo by Artsy Vibes on Unsplash)
As history has been unfurled,
One question ‘gainst the church has stood:
From whence came evil to this world
If God created all things good?
We grant some evil works for gain,
Some purpose may be found therein;
Yet is there not much needless pain,
Much suffering because of sin?
Could God not keep his world from death,
Or – bitter thought – might he desire
To curse those he hath filled with breath,
To see them sinking in the mire?
Or might it be that he allows
His people to rebel, to stray,
That they may truly then avow
His lordship, then may truly pray?
And could it be that majesty
Did not abandon to decay
Damned souls, but there upon the tree
Engaged in full the sinner’s fray?
Christ bore the wrath of God in place
Of those who chose the path to hell
That they might turn to seek the face
Of love, to taste the one true well.
God’s justice cometh like a flame,
And evil will not stand the show.
I may not know from whence it came,
But well I know where it will go.
(Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash)
Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name.
I read and re-read this verse multiple times after running across it in my devotional time. I love the wording here for its poetic sound and feel. I love the imagery within the prayer. Even so, my mind kept returning to a question: What does it mean for a heart to be united?