Things are seldom as they appear – if ever. This is because two factors obscure the reality. Firstly, the object of the observation seldom conducts itself outwardly as it really is within or behind the scenes. Secondly, the ability on the part of the observer is limited at most times so that he is not able to see as he ought to.
And woe to the one who tries to acquire that which he desires by trying to give the appearance of either getting it or already having it.
Truth in the inward parts is not only the desired end but the means to that end.
“I am the way, the truth, and the life…”
Child of fullness and plenty, have you any idea
How empty you may be?
Your stomach is filled
Your laugh is hollow.
Child of laughter and merriment have you any idea
How sad you are?
Your heart has a notion
Of sorrow on the way.
You scoff at you know not what.
Child of scorn and scoffing, have you any idea
How the arrows you shoot reverse?
Your own conscience tells you
Of condemnation imminent.
That which you do not understand.
Child of pride and knowledge, do you have any idea
Of your ignorance and foolishness?
You know it all
But not as well as you are known.
For mercy – you have none.
Child of prayer and fasting, have you any idea
How full you will yet be?
You are now empty
On the way to fullness.
Your tears are not in vain.
Child of weeping and sorrow, have you any idea
How happy you will yet be?
Your heart is filled
Your crying is soon to end…in laughter.
Lethbridge, Sept. 1984
¿Quién ha sabido que el Día del Señor, el Gran Día del Juicio llega en el siervo ungido de Dios que viene sin advertencia, fanfarria u observación? ¿Quién ha sabido que Él no solo viene como ladrón, sino que también permanece y actúa como tal y deja los hogares que ha visitado con sus debidos juicios, mientras que la mayoría no lo sabe hasta mucho después?
Until the believer is perfected, there remains some atheist in him. He says he believes, but in the final analysis, his fruits tell otherwise, quite. We worry, doubt, or fear because we don’t believe. Examining ourselves in the Light, we discover the truth about ourselves. That Light’s source is the fire that serves to purge us of the atheist within, that fire being an enemy at first, and a friend in the end. How will I know I can stand the fire Unless I am subjected? How do I develop muscle to do heavy work Unless I do heavy work to develop muscle? How do I form calluses on my hands to prevent blisters Unless I do those things That make blisters? I say I have faith to do anything, To suffer all things and smile, even laugh But how do I get that faith Unless I suffer the very things To produce the faith To laugh at the things concerning which I say I have faith? How can I cry and say, “I believe”? But when I believe, I shall not cry When the fires come Because the fires have done their work. Lethbridge, August, 1984
I am mildly surprised as I read these words months after writing them. Mildly, I say, because it isn’t a surprise and yet it is, to see how I have been so down in my hopes, feelings and outlook on things. I marvel somewhat because I know this has happened on many occasions while in between those times I have also felt quite to the contrary, as though the Lord were very much with me and that by Him, nothing was impossible. I have particularly felt the latter way, with full conviction immediately after the Lord has manifest Himself to me in some way, unmistakably. But how soon and how able we are to forget and to be in despair! The whole world rots before my very eyes. Blind I am not to its corruption; Men bide their time in vain travail Or wait until they have to go. Suffering and death are everywhere, Sickness, disease and hell; Selfishness and greed reign over all; Each man denies another’s rights. Hell is on the left, Death is on the right; Fake religions promise emancipation; Vain hopes carrot asses everywhere; The wisest are led by them, bled by them, and slain by them. God is here, God is there, God is everywhere; And nowhere. There is no truth, no mercy, no compassion, No righteousness nor justice in this earth. Men are quick to boast their virtue, To make a show of goodness, ‘Til they have you where they want you And slit your throat for what you have If even so very little. I see the wickedness and the cruelty, The deception of every man Bu...