The world celebrates many things in many ways. It lives for good times and pleasures. Yet it has no good cause to rejoice because it excludes its Maker in its festivities, even when it celebrates in His Name. It also remains in darkness and bondage even while trying to act otherwise.
The pilgrim, that lone spiritual wanderer looks on, waiting for the day when he or she can trade in the sorrow and suffering, the loneliness and uncertainties, at best the mediocre satisfactions in this world s existence for great and true celebration. My friend, there is that place, that time, yes, here as well as there, which is here. This is the Day of the Lord.
Jubilee occurs on the Day of Atonement, the tenth day of the seventh month, once every fifty years. I wrote this seven years before experiencing the Jubilee. One is brought into it in the fulness of time.
Jubilee, oh Jubilee!
The day declares the captive free,
Delivered from the enemy,
Glory bestowed for all to see;
Oh, blessed Day of Jubilee!
Loss, defeat and misery,
Death and Hell had been for me
And tears prevented me to see
That one day there’d be Jubilee;
Oh, blessed Day of Jubilee!
The road beyond what eye can see
Is littered with corpse and tragedy
But trust the Lord and you will be
At journey’s end with ecstasy;
Oh, blessed Day of Jubilee!
Moon River Estates, Jan. 1993
Often and for long periods of time does God hide Himself from His called one, even as He did with all the saints and prophets of old and to the present. We desire so much to walk by sight, as in this world, but must learn to walk by faith, by the little given knowledge of the unknown, the Unknown, that we may know Him. And though He hides Himself to try us, He is always there...there is nowhere one can go from His presence. Yet one can choose to do so, and the one choosing so is not called. Emptiness is not a bad sign in itself as one might suppose. I am ill with sorrow and grief, Vexation and loneliness; My soul is filled with groanings and longings; I look in all directions; I reach out; My hand returns empty; Tears fill my soul; I cry and cry and cry; There is no one to comfort, to console, to ease my pain. Day after day, year after year, Decade after decade, I wait, I long, I cry, I heave and sigh. There is none to understand. I wait for morning; I wait for evening; I am desolate. I eat, I sleep, I cry... Is it sin I say I don't have That causes me to be this way - Desperate, sad, lonely, unfulfilled, Useless, despised, unwanted? This is not the abundant life; Though I have my carnal needs met And freedom to come and go, Yet I have nowhere to come and nowhere to go. All is quiet, uneventful, drab and grey. Do I complain Or do I merely state the way things are For those appointed to such by Divine order, Not for sin But for...
What did the religious who accused Christ of blasphemy do with what He told them about themselves and their sins? They blasphemed! And that’s the way it has always been for God’s children, who serve as a mirror of light that reflects the image of those who come against the truth. Didn’t Jesus warn His followers about those He called the children of Satan, “If people call the head of the family Satan, what will they say about the rest of the family?” (Matthew 10:25 CEV)? And we, as Christ’s ambassadors, admonish His children, “For consider Him Who endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself, lest you be weary and faint in your minds” (Hebrews 12:3 MKJV). Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Wherever did you get your gall? I’m not guilty of such things at all! Mirror, mirror, take a fall! I have a different image in my mind, Of myself that’s much more kind. A finer person you’ll never find; Surely, mirror, you are blind! Mirror, mirror, full of lies, What you show me, I despise, What I see, my heart denies, Things not fit for holy eyes! Who holds this mirror before my face? I find your judgment cruel and base. Is your agenda my disgrace? You need to learn and know your place. I will now even the score; I will escape what I abhor. Crash goes the mirror to the floor, A false impression to give no more. But now I have only shattered dreams. There’s no more peace, it seems, Only eyes full of beams, A sta...
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 ...