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.
Twirl on the dance floor, harlot,
One hand on the hip, the other in the air.
You enjoy yourself and life is full;
You are well fed and rich and confident.
You have no thirst because you drink
From a cup filled with blood,
The blood of friend and foe alike;
The blood of saints is in your mouth.
You’ll have what you will;
Your kiss extends to all,
But behind the lips of love and “concern”
Are hid the teeth that tear the flesh
Of unwary, innocent souls.
Spare the good you have for them,
Let them live instead.
Harlot, how is it you throw away riches for gain?
How is it you charge such a dear price for yourself?
Why does it cost you so?
“For a price I will care for you;
For a price, a small price at that,
I will console you in your circumstance
But if you’ll not pay, then I will not love;
My love is not without price
Though small the price may be.
And once I have what I want from you,
I will invite you to come to church,
I’ll take you to my pimp
Who teaches me well and salves my mind
To do with you what I please.
I do not determine my blessing by what I give
But by what I get.
I may be funny this way
But I simply won’t live
At my cost if I can live at yours.
So take my love, the price is small;
You’ll find your troubles disperse
Though torment and grief will tear at you,
For I have eaten and drunk to my full
And gained the upper hand.”
Your lips profess the Christ,
Your soul in righteousness,
But let me warn you solemnly
That your teeth speak otherwise.
Consider the cost, the circumstance,
The devious ways you walk,
And know there is a price to pay
A fearful one you’ve not discerned.
Can you escape the Almighty Judge
Who perfectly reads the heart
And rewards according to its fruits?
You will fall, make no mistake
And there’ll be none to catch you
For when you observed the vulnerability of others
You took full advantage.
Twirl on the dance floor, harlot,
Eat, drink and be merry
For if you continue, tomorrow you die
And then whose will your goods be?
Mystery Babylon will fall,
Her sins made manifest
And those who leave her for the truth
In prosperity and peace shall rest.
Lethbridge, Sept. 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 ...
Little did I know when the Lord told me He would show me His people through His eyes that I was one of those people, that I would be shown not only by seeing as an observer but as partaker as well. And He too is a partaker of the sufferings of His people. “I am hurting, I am hurting!” He said to me. I know too well the pain, the death and hell we must all face, the iniquity we must be shown in ourselves and be purged of by fires. I have identified and do identify with His people. I just did not think, though I surely believed I was His, that I was, by nature, a partaker of all the sins and vanities of His people and therefore a partaker of the fruits of them as well. When the Lord shows one something, He shows him not by mere observation but subjection. Only then do we know and understand and relate. One day while praying quite dignified, I was forced to be relieved, And in an old cabin the Lord signified what in me He had conceived. I will show you My people by My eyes, their suffering and sorrow you’ll see; They live in weeping and gnashing and cries but proclaim that they are free. In their stoves burns no fire to give them heat, the wind blows through the walls; From broken glasses and plates they eat, and off its hinges the front door falls. Their power is void while idols abound; vain professions are on their tongue; No floor ‘neath their feet covers the ground, their possessions are no more than dung. These are His people the Lord lets me see,...
It is already a wonder that the word "leisure" still exists in our vocabulary. Its manifestation has become scarce, its original nature obscured. Leisure today is rushed toward, through, past and entirely missed. We are in a sea of drowning souls panicking, frantically grabbing for safety, pulling any and all rescuers down with them to death and hell. Only there will the hustle and bustle of this world cease even as the land of Israel finally enjoyed its sabbaths once the population was removed into foreign captivity. Go a little faster, busy man. There isn't enough time, not nearly, To do all you would like to do. There are only 70 years in a life, 24 hours in a day; A third of those waste away; Sixty minutes in an hour, Not enough seconds in a minute To accomplish, achieve, attain. Find a faster way, a better way, A short cut to get what you're after. Give less to get more; Get more by giving less. Time is money and money is time. Hear the rhythm of the stamping feet, Tempo speeding, sound increasing, Over the mind to reign. Grab here, run there. Does haste make waste Or does waste make haste? Horde your riches, busy man, Or do you know where they are? Pride is a merciless lord; The Joneses must not get ahead. Bigger and better is the code And the mode and what a load! Grab an upper to keep you going; Take a downer to slow you up. What?! A downer to slow you up? Dare I say it? Wait a minute! A downer to slow you up? ...