Social and moral issues abound. There is no want of them – ever. And rarely are they settled to the true benefit of all. Debate goes on and on and on. The minds involved grow deeper in darkness until, with all their statistics and evidences, arguments and logic, all sides are as raving mad men, utterly failing to put their finger on the problem, much less finding a solution for it.
This writing came quite spontaneously and basically expresses the truth that darkened evil minds must be given the right and the opportunity to suffer the fruits of their thinking. Their consequences will speak far louder than the voices of those who try to spare them their folly.
Abort the mark of tragedy;
Abort the evidence of pleasure;
Abort the stark reminder
Of consequence for evil.
Rid yourself of nuisance;
Rid yourself of cost;
Pay no mind but to yourself;
For your sake a life is lost.
Still the witness, erase the interruption,
Forget the past, if you can;
Still the conscience
For crying against your deeds.
Is the conscience in your womb?
Rather than removing the turd,
Cover it with a mound of manure.
But go and do your will, woman;
Exterminate your seed
Lest we be overwhelmed
With the fruits of your ways,
The posterity of your thoughts;
Haunted by mammoth mounds,
Perishing one and all.
Lethbridge, Aug. 19, 1984
The man of darkness, the carnal man in each one of us, scarcely realizes the implications of his stance and opposition to his Creator. He does not recognize the futility, much less the harm he does himself in what he considers to be his right or privilege to freedom of expression according to his understanding. Least of all does he recognize the Lord coming as a thief to him in order to deliver or judge. The fire rages and Nothing stands in its way... The all consuming fire of God: Who can bear it? A fearful and terrible storm, The wicked are swept away, Having stood and hollered, Eaten and drunk, Laughed and scoffed. Now they are nothing. So great and terrible is that fire That we pity even our enemies, Repentant that they stood against us. But against us they stood, Pushing away their good, Despising their very lives, Pulling seed out of the ground, Poisoning their wells, Burning their houses, Slitting their throats, Hating the urgent help, Vigorously throwing out The butter and milk and all good food, Eagerly saving and eating The eggshells and cardboard cartons, The cellophane wrappers and bones. Would the beggar refuse a banquet? Would a dying man reject a physician? But our enemies have done just so. The fire rages, and Nothing stands in its way; Only a terrible fire Can clear away the refuse And cleanse the contradiction Of the wicked and their ways. Lethbridge, late 80's, early 90's
The ways and thoughts of the spirit of the Lord are far higher than man is ever willing to acknowledge or can imagine. This work had the crucible of a man with above average intellect who was rather impressed with his powers as well as impressive. What a blessing it would be to see a man set aside his strengths both real and perceived and take on the "weakness" of Christ. I have yet to see a man of high intellect do so. But isn't it written that God chooses the foolish things to confound the wise? Men dwell on different planes. There are those who are subterranean, Less than animals; They will not use even their bodies as they ought. There are those who dwell on lower ground, Their bodies they use acceptably well But no more can they receive. Then there are those who have taken to the hills. They have sought the higher ground Of mind and intellectual things. And with the powers of mind Both given and honed, They have awesome works achieved. Yet there is higher ground still. There are snow-capped peaks of the spirit Where the air is cold and thin, Where the traveler is rare, Where few would care to come, Yet the vista is supreme. Satisfied with the planes below, Ignorant of the plane above, Each on his own level thinks There is nothing better, nothing more. Come up higher, man. You've a long way you can go. But put aside the weights of assumptions, Vanities, arrogance. Put away pride and foolis...
This was written at a time when we lived in a literal desert in Israel and I could feel all the things expressed, within my soul, because we were also in a desert in our spiritual lives, a desert through which all pilgrims on the journey to the city of God must pass. This writing was also prophetic of events that would shortly come to pass as we spoke the Word of God to Paul, whom the Lord had given us to be our friend. As a matter of coincidental fact, the day of this introductory writing (Oct. 9) is, I believe, the very anniversary almost to the hour, of Paul forsaking his wife in obedience to the Lord, to walk in the Way of Life. The desert is dry and parched, and I am hot and thirsty; We two have been matched as partners in this stretch of our history. The sun’s scorching face is forceful enough; from it I can find no escape, No shade, no water, no nightfall to comfort my soul in its wearisome journey. Miles and miles of burning sand, I scarcely know where it began… It started with greenery, then greenery and sand, and now it is sand upon sand. Yet after some miles I’ve trodden and feel I can go no farther, A trickle of water comes out of a rock, destined for that very hour. With leanness of soul and hungering for life, not a soul for months have I seen, And all my possessions have slowly been lost, ’til much lighter my journey has been. It’s strange how the harder the trials, the sweeter the life becomes; The easier the life filled with comforts, the more ...