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.
The presence of my shepherd is my peace.
His goodness to me day by day, my song.
His love for me bids all my worries cease.
He over ev’ry enemy is strong.
I lack no needed thing, for he is here
In deepest darkness as in brightest light.
Amid my enemies, I do not fear,
For God, my father, watches through the night.
No storm or sword or snake can separate
My soul from the Almighty’s sov’reign grasp.
This body may decay, these doubts berate –
Still I remain within my father’s clasp.
True life is life lived at the shepherd’s side.
I make it thus my aim to there abide.
Another chapter closes now, and I
Lay down my pen to catch a bit of breath.
I reminisce o’er days that have gone by,
And look ahead to days until my death.
Through weeks and months and years, you did unfold
The plan that brought me to this present time.
And though you took things I had hoped to hold,
Your rule has brought about a better rhyme.
I trust you with the days that are ahead;
I still will follow, though I cannot see.
Perfection bore the wages in my stead;
I do not doubt your daily love for me.
This marker on the road lifts up my face,
A testimony to your truth and grace.
I’ve always been a bit fascinated with fear. When I was little, when the mildest frights could send me running, I still looked forward to October and to Halloween, the decorations, the costumes, and the spooky movies on the Disney channel each captivating my interest. In literature, I loved reading Edgar Allan Poe with his mastery of the macabre. Even in Batman cartoons and video games, I found myself enjoying the stories with Scarecrow more than the stories with many of the other villains. Fear, in a way, has been a lifelong interest. Continue reading
(Photo cred: Jeremy Poe)
My final destination is secured;
Tis fixed within my future by the pow’r
Sustaining all creation ev’ry hour.
And yet the days ahead appear obscured.
By pages and by principles applied,
May I perchance perceive the Father’s plan
(And thus pursue the path by strength of man
And live a life untested and untried)?
No. Faith is forged by following in fear,
Uncertain of the details of the road
Yet certain of the Master’s love and might.
Help me then, Lord, to listen and to hear.
Let me abide in thee in this abode
And learn to walk by faith and not by sight.
Can e’er a joy surpass the joy that comes
Upon the answer of a prayer once prayed?
Can earthly pleasures ever match the sums
Of treasures sent from heav’n once prayers are laid
Before the throne of grace? For thereupon
Sits one who rules with matchless love for men.
His mercies – fresh and new with ev’ry dawn.
His grace outruns the furthest reach of sin.
Why do we then so often turn aside
Instead of turning to our Lord of love?
Are we not beckoned to our Father’s side?
Are not all perfect gifts from him above?
The greatest gift of all he did not spare;
The cross is perfect proof that God does care.
Among tv sitcoms, The Office is a gem.
You spoke, and all that is began to be,
Yet you are uncreated, without end.
The voice with which you rule eternity
Is present in the whisper of the wind.
In sov’reignty, you raise and lower kings.
No power can contest your ruling right.
For you are he of whom creation sings,
The power that ordains the day and night.
And yet you clothe the flowers of the ground,
And yet you feed the sparrows of the sky.
You care for your creation all around
So much you sent your sinless son to die.
It matters not how much I may rehearse:
Your greatness, God, I cannot grasp in verse.
We place our memories upon the tree
Along with colored lights and tinsel spheres,
Traditions carried on through many years
Displayed for ev’ry passerby to see.
Together with our friends and family
We celebrate the end of earthly fears
Proclaimed by angels unto shepherd ears,
The Gospel passed along to you and me.
As days pass by, these trees are brought and burned.
We gather ’round the bonfire and are warmed
As friends and fam’ly fellowship again.
More blessed still, the God whom we have spurned
Has sent his son to save the world he formed,
And in our songs, this truth is our refrain.
God doesn’t have to bless us, but he often does. Continue reading