Layers

One
by
one
the layers
peel off...
exposing to
daylight
their spots of decay;
ripping off
tender shoots of seeds
planted in once fertile soil..
...layer after layer..
darkness
and
light
coexisting much too comfortably;
neither strong enough
to take the lead as the layers continue
falling...
until the core reveals newness of life
replanted by the Maker's hand.

Strength to Strength

From strength to strength
and glory to glory,
The Lord leads us on
towards the prize
and the pastures.
Each step taken
on faith in spite of feeling
propels each wanderer
on the way...
to the life
...to the next step...

From strength to strength
and glory to glory,
the Lord leads us on
to discover His heart;
the longing He has in His heart
for our hand...
...to have fellowship
with Him
and the joy of the brethren...
gloriously sharing our lives
in His heart.

The Stone in His Hand

A feeling of power
rested in the palm of his hand;
holding the smooth stone
led him to feel superior
to the object of his derision...

She was an object;
delegated to the realm of damaged goods
and devalued in his estimation
with trial by jury neglected
...out of a misguided sense of justice.

"Vengeance is Mine saith the Lord"
the Bible did say, didn't it?
The memories of sunday school entered into
the forefront of his thoughts...

Still, he was justified in throwing the stone.
She had sinned; really messed up this time.
Her example would prevent her from doing it again,
and send a message to those even contemplating
wandering into the degradation of human flesh.

His girth made throwing difficult;
and then there was that nasty habit of blasphemy...
His temper made him hard to live with;
leading his family to tread on delicate ground
...just to breathe easily...

The warmth of the Savior's love
made it through one of the cracks in his armor;
melting the ice and length of chain that
held him captive to sin in his own right...

Down he fell and let the stone tumble to the dry earth.
His eyes looked up to heaven in entreaty;
speaking the volumes his heart was unable to verbalize...
and flinching in acknowledgement of his own falls from grace.

Rejoicing in the God of All Comfort...

"It is not because things are good that we are to thank the Lord, but because He is good."-Hannah Whitall Smith from The God of All Comfort.


This throws the gauntlet down to my flesh when life's mountains seem insurmountable. The passages that deal with praise in the Bible are numerous, and yet can seem hollow when we are blinded by our emotional states. Human weakness and the limits of our understanding can chain us to the dark side of the moon. Praise breaks us out of those chains and propels us towards the joy of the Lord; which is our strength.

I admit to being an emotional creature with marked intensities and a streak of the melancholy firmly rooted within the constraints of my personality. The Lord has His reasons for creating each of us with our temperaments, and we often fail to thank God for His wisdom in giving us what we have in that department. The grass is always greener; careening our gaze towards comparison with others and thinking that their temperament gives them an edge over us.

In light of today being the day that the Lord has made, I am going to try to rejoice in the God of all comfort. Lifting up that sacrifice of praise will raise my dry bones out of the grave into the awareness of His presence.

Have a cup o'joy,
Lynne

Mouse Bites

The mouse
in the crevice
saw that sweet morsel...
abandoned by human resign...
...the smell,
the aroma
rose to his nostrils...
enticing his taste buds
to propel his feet towards action.
("Seize the day" he'd often heard
in unprotected pantries).
Launching from his haunches,
the mouse
tasted the thrill
of capturing joy...
for human loss had provided his dinner...
to satisfy hunger;
raising his hopes of
finding more...

Thursday Night

Clutter of bills...
mountains of laundry
building
the
giant
felt from within...
cluttered perception
jaundiced by worry...
approaching the spirit that
cowered within...then shouts of
Organize!
Organize!
taunted the pale one...
...besieged,
...tormented...
...nettled...
...distraut...
and wondering how the divide would be crossed...
...Peace, Be still
uttered the Savior;
extending His hand
to the creature in awe...
for awaiting the child's
response to His leading;
His gratified pale one accepted
His grace...

The Open Door

The door opened,
and then it shut...the slam of the door
against the casing was reverberating through my marrow...

I looked around and saw another door;
and then another...

so many choices?
How could I choose?

That still, small voice came with the next breeze;
and whispered His guidance to calm and to soothe...
for the words in my spirit were bathed in beauty
and blessed simplicity; echoes of verses I thought I'd forgotten...

My eyes were averted from the door set before me,
and persuaded in faith to look past to the next;
for peace preceded the touch of my hand to the knob
as I opened the door to find my Lord waiting there.