Print Friendly, PDF & Email

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 ensnared in this wild.

Many storms form on the horizon, threatening I know not what,

And only the odd one materializes to give me the wisdom I’ve sought.

With serpents quite often threatening my life, and insects disturbing my peace,

I travel over jagged and treacherous rocks and long from this desert, release.

Many mirages have promised me life and so fair they are at a distance,

But somehow I’m learning the difference between what appears to be real and what is.

I cannot tell how much longer my wilderness journey will be;

I know only this: that I cannot turn back, not while I have yet to be free.

Methinks I have seen circling above, those wretched birds of prey,

Who hover and wait so endlessly, for their opportune day.

But I believe in the One Who has promised to keep me until that day,

And when it comes, it’ll be by His choosing, and with Him I’ll arrive to stay.

Israel, Sept. 79

Related posts:

The Unsearchable Ways of God
Not His ways so much as Him! Yet “theologians” or “studiers of God” presume otherwise. And how ingrained it is in our very carnal natures the thought or belief that somehow we are in control to some extent of our destinies and the destinies of others. How frustrated we get at our failures and at the failures of others when we do not understand that all things, great and small, good and evil, obviously and otherwise are indeed in His hands, that He rules over all. How unforgiving we can be toward others for the evil the Lord has sent our way by them for our good, and toward ourselves for the evil He sent to others by us for their good, not that we can justify ourselves. We seek to do good as we learn. But we must also learn that even our mistakes and evils have served in their place for the time and though these things are to be repented of, they are also to be recognized as purposeful and to be forgotten in the sense of continual regret. And how fretful we are when we find certain circumstances and events are entirely in disagreement to us and beyond our control. But if we know the Lord, and if we know that He is in full control of all and that all He does is for our good, we can indeed forgive, forget and rest. The wisdom of God is unsearchable, His ways past finding out; His thoughts and His actions high above ours, we don’t know what He’s about. Moses He sends to save Israel and Pharaoh’s heart He hardens, And both are found faithful in doing His bidding, both b...
Bitterness
When you are given to see the incarnation of bitterness concentrated in your direction, I doubt that there can be a more hideous spectacle, especially when residing in one whom you have known intimately for decades and who is supposed to have the opposite, love, toward you. This comes by revelation but also by outer manifestation in the end for, all things must come to light and be dealt with, and are in the "last days." Only understanding of God can give one the encouragement to forgive, and faith to persevere. But bitterness is the lot of every believer and everyone must come to terms with it once and for all in the end. This is the "wicked one being revealed" and dealt the death blow. While it is the worst time of all, yet there is cause for those who believe to lift up their heads because redemption is near at hand. The manifestation of that mysterious man of bitterness is a token of the Lord present for it is in His coming that the son of perdition is exposed and destroyed. But destroyed how? By being redeemed, transformed, resurrected, reconciled to God through the Son of God. It is a great and terrible event.   Bitterness cries, "You owe me!" And she will not rest until She gets what she wants. She'll not be persuaded otherwise Nor will a substitute do.   "I disagree with You!" she cries to God. "Either You don't know what You're doing Or, You cannot do what's right. So I have to do it! I have to take control of things; I have to protect mys...
Evolution – A Poem of Tact, Diplomacy, and Gentle Persuasion
[worthy of those addressed] It has occurred to me that if there ever was a lie, if there ever was anything so unscientifically accurate, if there was anything so preposterous, if there was anything so utterly stupid and incredibly farcical, if there was anything that made supposedly educated and intelligent men look like babbling idiots and pea-brained morons, it is the theory (or even more so, theories, each proving the other wrong!) of evolution. Taught as fact, contradicting truth, and while in some cases and ways trying to accommodate God somewhere in their schemes, these men have denied Him and rather than coming from monkeys, have made monkeys of themselves. Yet they will not believe me when I tell them creation is regressing.   Madness, are you an accident? In all your incredibility, can it be possible That you came from a mere explosion of gases? Madness, you have so many forms! One form is to believe that so many forms Have been an accident. Bang! And there you began. And you grew and grew and grew And grew and flourished And spread! Madness, could as much as you Come from so little? How can a genius as great and powerful as you, Reigning as you do over the hearts of the wise, Come from a mere bang?   The world raves in you; You have evolved much farther than they. Those you call accidents are your subjects; You make monkeys out of them. Leave me out of it. More than that, I’ll speak to them… Without your help or your hindrance. &...
Subscribe
Notify of
0 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments

Provide your email if you would like to receive periodic correspondence from us.



0
You can leave a comment herex
()
x