If and when financial blessings come, one comes into danger of straying after mammon. Mammon has a way of creating and whetting the appetite for more. More accurately, it has a way of rousing the carnal nature with what is already there.
I began to be dissatisfied with what my money was doing in the bank at terrible interest rates, thinking I was a coward or a poor steward by not working the money to get better returns. I ended up in the stock market. Fear and Greed, two robust bullies, caught me in the back alley on my way to the bank and beat me severely. I lost two years of peace with my family and God knows how much more. My faith was greatly battered. One cannot play with fire and not get burned. A bitter lesson indeed. My boy had been such a joy to me and I missed him for a part of our lives. If you value life, flee mammon; don’t rationalize; don’t compromise; don’t even think it…flee to God for your life.
I wrote this during a fast a couple of years later, when I was expected to die.
I’ve missed my boy since ’93;
Money was all that I could see;
Even robbed him of maternity;
Without my boy since ’93.
Hung a plaque up on the wall
The words of which would say it all
And failed my duty to heed that call
Now all I can do is bawl and bawl.
Son, don’t ever cry, the fault’s not yours;
I’m persuaded the Lord will even scores.
How does He do it? by the blood He pours,
Reuniting us on better shores.
Mom, please don’t spoil our little boy.
Like me, he’ll miss both peace and joy,
Himself and others he’ll annoy
And we won’t have our little boy.
But do us both a favor, please,
See he minds all q’s and p’s,
Gains knowledge in all he does and sees
So that in the end, the Lord he’ll please.
Moon River Estates, Jan. 1993
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...
All of creation points to and teaches us of God, His requirements of us, our relationships to Him. Life in Christ must be as spontaneous and natural as the branches to their tree trunk. And am I presumptuous in pointing out that as branches cannot live without the trunk so the trunk has no life without branches? Can it be that Almighty God is so committed to us, His creation? We are branches, we are one, Not by ourselves, not of ourselves, But we live by the Greater One Which gives us life, Which gives us purpose for being. Though we go our own ways, One this way and that, Still we serve the One greater From where we come, In Whom we have our being and our life. We serve the Greater One and give It life; We live for It and It alone. The Trunk is our source and our deposit, The Beginning and the End. How can we live except we give? If we do not give, the Trunk does not live; If the Trunk does not live, we die. For the Trunk then we live No other choice can there be, Yet we give not so that we live, We are what we are; We do what we do, And if we do well we live. Lethbridge, 1984
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 ...