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 state no decent being esteems.
Moon River Estates, January 4, 2011
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...
Spanish – English So very much of our conversation belies our true nature and convictions. We say we love God, we speak of thanking and praising Him when we “are in church” or in a religious setting trying to impress others but let the guard down and listen to the words of our mouths and our hearts. Now these hearts are supposed to be the new ones we received in our “new birth.” With one set of words we proclaim we are new creatures, thankful to God in all things. With another set, we let others know where we really stand. Often, the arm raised in praise has a clenched fist and the lips of thanksgiving conceal gnashing teeth. Because conditions are never perfect, the spirit of complaint can never be stilled or appeased. Our ceasing to complain cannot hinge therefore on a change in conditions but must come solely by change in spirit and attitude. The source or cause of complaint is never the circumstances but always the subject in same. At any given time our lives can view from either of two perspectives, positive or negative, like two sides to a coin. Each side truly exists and we are right either way but we become what we behold. Therefore must we decide what to behold. Isn’t it awful? Isn’t it hot out? It’s enough to fry one’s brains! It’s so dry and dusty…. If only we had a little rain. You want rain? Plan a picnic! Where did all these terrible flies come from? Sure it’s raining…just washed my car! If it doesn’t rain, it pours! Is it ever muggy out! ...
The incomprehensible frivolity of those who deem it enjoyable and sporting to make a game of killing and suffering! Such acts and attitudes are symptoms of a horridly sick society indeed. To make a sport of the tragedies of mankind is to demonstrate a madness of the vilest kind on earth, worse than that which we find in asylums because those out and about, free to do as they please, are pleased to mimic the worst there is, though they are judged by the rest of society to be sane and responsible. The judges are as ill as the judged, if they find no fault or harm in such behavior. War games? War games? War games! Play, everybody, play! And play the dreaded things that one never plays again When the real appears. In all its horror and confusion, The incredible, the imagined takes its form from nowhere, But not from nothing. Frolicking souls, restless souls, selfish souls, Dull, simple, foolish and ghoulish; Shoot and kill! Play the game without the blood in sight, Though the blood already gushes forth With its life spilled to the ground. While they play and rejoice in mock victories, Storm clouds swiftly creep. Even the rain spatters to warn but none take care And none suspect that the rain is red. Now they say, “Better red than dead” until they say “I wish I were dead.” Now they only pretend, like children, Running and laughing, not watching, Until they fall into the strong hands of a stranger, One of whom they have heard, One of whom they have t...