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,
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
English – Spanish Who has known that the Day of the Lord, the Great Day of Judgment comes in the anointed servant of God who comes without warning or fanfare or observation? Who has known that he not only comes as a thief but abides and performs as one and leaves the households he has visited with their due judgments while most are totally unaware until it is much after the fact? I am Truth. I judge all things, And all things come before Me, Creatures great and small, Young and old, Foolish and wise. I ever preside, Here and now. All is under My scrutiny; I am the great white throne; I am that I am. All are haled before Me; All are tried, All are made manifest, All are sentenced, All are recompensed According to the thought of their hearts, The words of their lips, The works of their hands. No man is exempt, Even for a moment. I judge the saint; I judge the heathen; I punish the evildoer And reward the righteous, Right where they stand. None can escape Me; Whether it be My wrath Or My reward, They receive their just dues. The fool despises Me, Is blind to My presence, Ignorant of My power, Scornful of My law; He perishes. The wise love Me And honor Me And are blessed, Prospering in all things. Lethbridge, Alta., March 1986
The Lord is about reconciling, and not utterly destroying the first Adam in us
The terrible battle to be fought by the seeker of God is against unbelief. One moment, we can be so full of belief, of joy and excitement, assurance and boldness. Then, as little as it takes to slam a door, so quickly and surely have saints of God known the onslaught of unbelief in all its terrible power. Our fight is the fight of faith. Our faith is the victory. Nor is it a faith concocted, a matter of will power. It is rather, a surrender to God, an acceptance of things as they are, an acknowledgment of things as they are and entrusting them entirely out of our control to His. Thus we come out of our valleys, our clouds of darkness and into the light. Wave after wave, Billow after billow, No rest, no peace, except for a time, A short time, a breather so to speak, From the unrelenting pressures which increase. Darkness all around us, Blind alleys at every turn, Clouds obscure the light of day And leave us damp and cold. When will we be free? When will the storm cease? Has it no end? Has it no bounds? Can we go on with our hopes Dashed to pieces at every turn, Like cardboard huts in a hurricane? Is it sin in our lives that causes this state? Is the wrath of God kindled against us? Have we no hope, no reason to expect An end to intermittent turmoil? “There is no peace to the wicked,” the Scriptures say, Yet we have searched and searched ourselves again. And though we know that in our flesh dwells no good thing, We still find ourselves without an answer....