The Higher Plane

The ways and thoughts of the spirit of the Lord are far higher than man is ever willing to acknowledge or can imagine.

This work had the crucible of a man with above average intellect who was rather impressed with his powers as well as impressive. What a blessing it would be to see a man set aside his strengths both real and perceived and take on the “weakness” of Christ. I have yet to see a man of high intellect do so. But isn’t it written that God chooses the foolish things to confound the wise?

Men dwell on different planes. There are those who are subterranean,

Less than animals;

They will not use even their bodies as they ought.

There are those who dwell on lower ground,

Their bodies they use acceptably well

But no more can they receive.

Then there are those who have taken to the hills.

They have sought the higher ground

Of mind and intellectual things.

And with the powers of mind

Both given and honed,

They have awesome works achieved.

Yet there is higher ground still.

There are snow-capped peaks of the spirit

Where the air is cold and thin,

Where the traveler is rare,

Where few would care to come,

Yet the vista is supreme.

Satisfied with the planes below,

Ignorant of the plane above,

Each on his own level thinks

There is nothing better, nothing more.

Come up higher, man.

You’ve a long way you can go.

But put aside the weights of assumptions,

Vanities, arrogance.

Put away pride and foolishness

And riches of many kinds.

Climb on up and you will find

That you have nothing but a higher mind

And that higher mind is nothing

Compared to the things above.

There is the One Who made the higher mind,

The One Who takes those on lower ground

And sets them up above the hills,

Putting to nothing the wisdom of this world.

Lethbridge, Tues. A.M., Oct. 9, 1984

Related posts:

Desolation
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...
The Specter of Fear
I have known fear, perhaps not as some have known it but many know fear one way or another, at one time or another, to such an extent that it cripples, paralyzes the soul. We think we have security in this world until one day we are rudely awakened from our pipe-dream. Security in this world is but an illusion. When our disillusionment comes, its comrade-in-arms is often fear. But that disillusionment needn’t be our enemy. In truth, it can be a friend in disguise. Nor do we need to fear as though there is no such thing as true and sure security, for then we would be prey to a lie, to our own destruction. There IS a sure security for those who will avail themselves of it. My fear rides me like a stern rider Rides his horse. Unless I run his pace, His spurs dig deep my sides. I think blood flows at times…I’m sure of it. I scarcely dare to think, to pause For fear I have a rider Who will not show me mercy Who will not grant me pardon Who will not make a move To relent, to ease my pain. “Run!” he says. I run. “Faster!” says he. I go faster. “Faster isn’t good enough! You’ve had it!” I think that if I drop, I have sweet release. He whips me as I fall. Fear is not afraid to beat a dead horse. He seems to relish it, delight in it. The compassion of fear is tyranny, His patience only scorn. He takes the meat and feeds it to minks, And then I think, “Aha! There is rest in the mouths of minks, Fear has no torment there!” Until I find that my rider Is possess...
My Boy
If and when financial blessings come, one comes into danger of straying after mammon. Mammon has a way of creating and whetting the appetite for more. More accurately, it has a way of rousing the carnal nature with what is already there. I began to be dissatisfied with what my money was doing in the bank at terrible interest rates, thinking I was a coward or a poor steward by not working the money to get better returns. I ended up in the stock market. Fear and Greed, two robust bullies, caught me in the back alley on my way to the bank and beat me severely. I lost two years of peace with my family and God knows how much more. My faith was greatly battered. One cannot play with fire and not get burned. A bitter lesson indeed. My boy had been such a joy to me and I missed him for a part of our lives. If you value life, flee mammon; don't rationalize; don't compromise; don't even think it...flee to God for your life. I wrote this during a fast a couple of years later, when I was expected to die.   I've missed my boy since '93; Money was all that I could see; Even robbed him of maternity; Without my boy since '93.   Hung a plaque up on the wall The words of which would say it all And failed my duty to heed that call Now all I can do is bawl and bawl.   Son, don't ever cry, the fault's not yours; I'm persuaded the Lord will even scores. How does He do it? by the blood He pours, Reuniting us on better shores.   Mom, please don't spoil ou...

Leave a Reply