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Poems

Precious Guest
The Call
A New Creation
Fear of Man
The Unsearchable Ways of God
The Desert
Humility
War Games
Grabbing
City Dwellers
Evolution – A Poem of Tact, Diplomacy, and Gentle Persuasion
Abortion
The Specter of Fear
Atheists Cry
Judging
The Rest of God
We Are Branches, We Are One
The Wild
Have You Any Idea?
Desolation
Uncertainty
Resilience
Eggs
Money
All You Religious
The Sword
Delay
Bellyache, Bellyache
Friend, Are You?
Pioneers
Ode to a Harlot
The Higher Plane
Water Does Not Always Find the Lowest Level
The Chameleon
The Frenzy of Life
The Twice Dead
The Child of Evil
Terrible Good
Truth
The Vices’ Voices
A Sunset Seen
Help in Disguise
Help
Rools Four Inglish Spelling
I See a Boy
The Fire of God
Mystery
Immaturity
Periphery
God Reigns Supreme
Alone
Emptiness Within
I, The Wealthy Outcast
Day of Jubilee
My Boy
Come with Me
Two Adams
Bitterness
Stoning the Mirror

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Help in Disguise
The scalpel, cod liver oil and discipline are examples of the many things in life undesirable and hard to take but which are there usually for our good. It will not suffice to judge good and bad by our own understanding which is "understanding." We can tell nothing by appearance. So our selfishness is removed by trials and tribulations, fires that purge us of pride, self-sufficiency and arrogance in which we think we know what is best for us.   There come times when we are troubled And in that trouble we have nowhere to turn it seems. At such a time of desperation we cry out for help. Somehow, having asked for help before, We receive no reply. But our cry must be loud enough and earnest enough to be heard.   "Prince Valiant, Prince Majesty, come to my aid; Only you can save me now. I've waited too long and now I must turn To such as yourself for deliverance. Oh! But I need a miracle! I need a shining light, The sound of thunder and a shaking of earth; No less will do for me now! A chariot of God; to take me up Leaving my enemies far below.   Who is this man I wait for? A man in shining armour, Fitted from head to toe; With perfect knowledge, power and wisdom, Compassion with overflow; A flaming sword in his hand, Magnificent shield in arm; There is no standing up to him... Invincible is his name.   Who is it I hear knocking at the door? Another enemy? Is it more trouble?" I view through the peephole an unpleasant specta...
The Twice Dead
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
The Desert
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 ...

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