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
Social and moral issues abound. There is no want of them – ever. And rarely are they settled to the true benefit of all. Debate goes on and on and on. The minds involved grow deeper in darkness until, with all their statistics and evidences, arguments and logic, all sides are as raving mad men, utterly failing to put their finger on the problem, much less finding a solution for it. This writing came quite spontaneously and basically expresses the truth that darkened evil minds must be given the right and the opportunity to suffer the fruits of their thinking. Their consequences will speak far louder than the voices of those who try to spare them their folly. Abort the mark of tragedy; Abort the evidence of pleasure; Abort the stark reminder Of consequence for evil. Rid yourself of nuisance; Rid yourself of cost; Pay no mind but to yourself; For your sake a life is lost. Still the witness, erase the interruption, Forget the past, if you can; Still the conscience For crying against your deeds. Is the conscience in your womb? Rather than removing the turd, Cover it with a mound of manure. Now what? But go and do your will, woman; Exterminate your seed Lest we be overwhelmed With the fruits of your ways, The posterity of your thoughts; Haunted by mammoth mounds, Perishing one and all. Lethbridge, Aug. 19, 1984
There was a day when I was filled with the excitement of knowing that God is our sufficiency in all things. My mind then turned to the city and what makes a city. I knew that firstly, His rule applies in all things of life and secondly, that the city was void in all areas of His rule and healing power. Furthermore, it was those who were in authority who were supposed to be teaching, directing, leading, delivering but instead were the ones responsible for the corruption and degeneration of the people. Only outside the city but not far away was the remedy, THE Remedy. Hey, you city dwellers! Do you see that yonder Light? He is the Standard of all standards; He lights the way so you can see…and not stumble. He is the Walkway to lead you in sure directions To take you where you need to go. He is the Grocery Store; He is your Bread and Butter and all good food, Without additives…or subtractives; You’ll find no nourishment elsewhere. Why are you so gaunt, city dweller? He is your Post Office; To Him messages must go And from Him they will come. Mail service is timely and free; Why don’t you pay your postage? He is the local Drug Store But for good and not for hurt. In Him are the leaves For the healing of the nations. See that Jewelry Store around the corner And there you’ll find precious stones To grace the chest of one who wears them. No costume jewelry here. The gold is real, the stones are genuine; He is not here...
Poems on The Path of Truth