“You’ve got to walk…that lonesome valley…you’ve got to walk…it by yourself…” the song goes. As it was with our father of faith, so with every sojourner. “Look to Abraham your father, and to Sarah who bore you; for I called him alone, and blessed him and increased him.” There is no other way.
On the day that I set out to walk with God
I became lonely.
My family insisted
That I remain with it –
I chose my loneliness,
Part of the price to pay
For obedience to God.
I entered a family of those
Who claimed to walk with God,
Only to discover feigned faith.
They insisted I be as they.
Called out from among them
Again I was lonely.
He gave me a wife
Knowing it not good
That I should be alone.
Together we searched for friends –
A cup of water here
And a cup there
But no well.
Today, after many years,
He gives us a son
Who helps to bear our loneliness
But we are lonely.
What is it to be lonely?
It is to be alone
In desires, in thoughts, in understanding,
In conversation, in goals and interests,
In activity, in purpose.
Added to our loneliness,
Betrayals and disappointments
To sharpen the pain that is there –
They come with smiles
And depart with frowns.
Added to our betrayals and disappointments,
The enmity of adversaries
Opposing what we are
And why we are here,
Hating us without a cause
Added to the hatred,
Loneliness,
For they hate us
And us alone.
Moon River, Oct. 29, 1991
Related posts:
It is bad enough to watch a dog vomit though by vomiting it may well expel that which ails it. Then it is a pleasant experience to behold a healthy creature. But bad is bad when one witnesses the return of a dog to its vomit only to lick it up again. I do not know of many more disgusting spectacles to witness in all of existence. Up from the pits of Hell Come the vilest of the vile; These are the has-beens of yester-year, Full of venom and guile. These have known the truth of God; They have known His love and power, His mercy to loveless men; His goodness has made them sour. Why do angels fall? Why do just men call On gods who have nothing to give? Why do fools choose death In order that they may live? Now here is a marvelous thing That would make any devil sing: It is easier to find The seeing man crying to be blind Than it is the blind to see. Lethbridge, Alta., June 1985
I was hurt by a vain professor of righteousness. Of that person I saw a vision. She was like her kind and her kind like her - light, treacherous, full of lust and hypocrisies. So are all those who "go to church" and think they do God a service.
The terrible battle to be fought by the seeker of God is against unbelief. One moment, we can be so full of belief, of joy and excitement, assurance and boldness. Then, as little as it takes to slam a door, so quickly and surely have saints of God known the onslaught of unbelief in all its terrible power. Our fight is the fight of faith. Our faith is the victory. Nor is it a faith concocted, a matter of will power. It is rather, a surrender to God, an acceptance of things as they are, an acknowledgment of things as they are and entrusting them entirely out of our control to His. Thus we come out of our valleys, our clouds of darkness and into the light. Wave after wave, Billow after billow, No rest, no peace, except for a time, A short time, a breather so to speak, From the unrelenting pressures which increase. Darkness all around us, Blind alleys at every turn, Clouds obscure the light of day And leave us damp and cold. When will we be free? When will the storm cease? Has it no end? Has it no bounds? Can we go on with our hopes Dashed to pieces at every turn, Like cardboard huts in a hurricane? Is it sin in our lives that causes this state? Is the wrath of God kindled against us? Have we no hope, no reason to expect An end to intermittent turmoil? “There is no peace to the wicked,” the Scriptures say, Yet we have searched and searched ourselves again. And though we know that in our flesh dwells no good thing, We still find ourselves without an answer....