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
English - Spanish If youth were so important, would we not have been given the wherewith to embrace and enjoy it? But trials and tribulations come as a flood to deliver us, to teach us, to age us. Aged wine, how good! Green fruit, how unsatisfactory! Yet this green fruit doesn't know. It covets its youth, its strength, its firmness, its expectation of longevity and does not care to be consumed. Yes, it much prefers rather to do the consuming. Youth must be told it is there to be consumed and not to consume, that it must wait for that which to it would seem so repulsive as if waiting for something so desirable. Resisting reality, the young one is consumed and loses himself. Embracing reality, time unveils the beauty of maturity and the once young finds new youth imperishable. Immaturity says: My will, not Thine, be done. I want it, I want it my way, I want it all, I want it now. Immaturity says: I'm old enough, I can do it, I deserve it, It's coming to me. Immaturity is indignant at correction, at instruction and discipline. Immaturity harbors resentment, seeks revenge, a settling of scores much in its favor. It takes only the good, despising the bad, not discerning the difference between the two. Immaturity presumes to know, to know better, to know all, despising knowledge and the paths thereto leading. Wisdom is an alien despised, abhorred; folly is embraced as one's dear life. Yet immaturity ends, whether by maturity or destruct...
The Lord is about reconciling, and not utterly destroying the first Adam in us
I have heard it said many times that whatever divides is not of God. Of course, that simply depends on what is being divided and why. Is it not of God to divide sheep from goats, fleece from sheep, truth from error, heretics from the faithful, wheat from the tares? The problem is that those who make the statement above presume to be sheep or, they are under the false notion that pain and suffering and sorrow arising naturally from division are products of Satan and not of God. But these same people indulge in dividing others in the Name of God and think nothing of it. And does not God wound and break? Does He not call to forsake wife, children, parents and friends? Is forsaking easy and pleasant? If so, it would not be forsaking. I am not sent for division's sake; I do not come to attack; Strife and debate I do not sow, Yet all these are found where I go. I haven't come for evil's sake, Bearing trouble, sorrow and pain, Yet the sword I bear Will cut in two And each half in two again. There are those who wish to take the truth And claim it for their own But others, joined to them, declare "If you go, you go alone." I cannot help but cause this woe If I am to speak what is true; I can only hope as time goes on That your loved ones will come too. But you cannot wait for them to come, The time to take heed is now. Just as you cannot wait for yours, The call cannot wait for you. As friends increase, my enemies...