Of all my writings, there are two that were written in 2 sittings, years apart. These were the first ones I ever wrote, and this one, interestingly enough, speaks of two births. While I had known the first, I had written of it but did not write of the second, which is the resurrection, until I had known it as well. It is therefore most befitting that the words of this writing came in two parts. The first part came only as a poem, words. It is all now a song though the music did come somewhere inbetween the two sittings.
The shadow of the gallows tree
Spreads darkly over the grave,
And in the dust I toss and turn,
Hoping He will save.
I know the work is good as done;
He did it all for me;
He laid my sins upon His Son,
Who suffered the gallows tree.
Some day I’ll be a flutterby,
No more to crawl or squirm,
But it’s His work, I can’t deny,
For I am but a worm.
The angels watch from up above
To see this work beneath;
When God has formed in me His love,
His holy sword He’ll sheath,
And glorious will be that day
When Jesus Christ is manifest,
The day for which the saints do pray,
The whole world will be blessed.
Dauphin, MB; 1978-79
And then…
The heavy stone is rolled away; I’ve risen from the earth.
I have new life and power now; I’ve had my second birth.
The day for Him to judge is here; I sit upon His throne;
He draws His sword a second time and I am not alone.
Yes, now I am that flutterby, no more to crawl or squirm,
But it’s His work, I can’t deny,
For I was but a worm…
Yes, it’s His work, I can’t deny,
For I was but a worm.
Lethbridge, AB; 1984-85
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This satire is an expression of a time oft repeated wherein I felt incredulous and scornful of the thinking of so-called "theologians." They shape and size God, formulate the things they think He does, analyze Him, dissect Him, figure Him all out, put Him back together again according to their desires and tastes and put Him in a neat box, gift-wrapped and stamped, ready to be reproduced and mass-marketed to the ignorant masses the world over who swallow their doctrines as unsuspecting fish swallow bait, hook, line, sinker and rod. By the way, God hates the term "theology." How presumptuous is man that he should dare try to study God!
Simple and self-explanatory.
There exists the notion that victory speaks only of joy, peace, love, rest in their counterfeit forms, the wishy-washy, mushy-gushy kind that has no place in reality. This song expresses the reality. There is war before victory. With war comes bloodshed, hard times, threatenings, loss and destruction, but the victory is there in real terms, earned and established by the Lord.