Prophets of doom speak out

From William Wadesworth: “Have forfeited their ancient English dower of inward happiness. Oh! Raise us up. Return to us again.” This pitiful verse struck me as close to the American condition. Every aspect of our lives is polluted with sin and blood. Rivers of aborted babies’ blood cry out from the ground for justice. How far we have departed from the original intent of our forefathers in that this nation is place of worship and mission endeavors. Our individualism and idealism of self over community has made us the most selfish nation ever. Our nation is the most wicked and hedonistic nation that ever graced our planet. In the words of Billy Graham’s wife, “If God does not judge America; He will have to apologize for Sodom and Gomorrah.” Our idols of materialism, military, and humanism have shown their utter worthlessness in time of crisis and they are unable to fulfill us. God will strike in fierce judgment on these three areas, starting with the purse strings that are the root of all evil. The financial collapse will be thorough and complete, which will reveal our utter debaseness. But we will still not repent, so our military will be vanquished from within and without. We will be conquered by a nation even more wicked than us. They will put us to bitter bondage.
This alien invasion will show no mercy to us because we did not show mercy to the weakest among us. If not put under the sword, we would be subservient to them and live out our days in slave labor. Right now, we are looking to man to save us from the impending disaster. It will be obvious that we chose the wrong king to lead us. God is the lifter of our heads out of the muck and mire of our tragic situation.

Nature heals the hurried soul

Laughing Song-“When the green woods laugh with the voice of Joy and the dimpling stream runs laughing by,…” The outdoors calls to us to come find healing for our busy souls. Green and blue soothe the rage against the machine and our urban plight. The woods tell our story of struggle and pain. Snarled trees choked by endless vines, all compete for life. Death crouches behind every bush waiting and watching for its prey.
The wildness of abundant colors captures the eye and the howler monkeys cry. The rocks under the steady stream of water tell an ancient story of timeless life and death. The birds on the shallows with long legs, long neck, and longer sharp beak all serve the master hunter well. The bulrushes give false assurance to errant minnows that stray from the course. The rainbow trout in all her glory beautiful arrayed in shimmering brilliance.
The angler in practice craft of precision and patience, breaks out in rhythm all his own. The line glides and rolls across the water concealing softly the trophy. Then the trout will rise seeing the easy meal lay before him. Time is lost in this moment all is right in the world. The soul is restored and nature heals the hurried soul.

Mad Rush

From An Apple Gathering by Christina Rossetti :
“I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple tree and wore them all that evening in my hair: Then in due season when I went to see I found no apples there.” What happened to the intrinsic beauty of youth and childhood? Why are we, as a culture, in a mad rush to usher children into adulthood? Jon Benet Ramsey was made up to be a lady, when a little girl is who she should have been. Why must we pluck the blossom of youth and curse the tree? Train the child up, we did, to sell youth for a nominal fee. Cheap is the fare; steep is the price we pay. What will the reaper find? Fallowed and cursed we shall ever be. Children in the slave market may we never see. How low will we go? How young must blossoms be, to pluck for one night of ecstasy. No wonder stamped on their forehead is “worthless, careless, and free.” If our forefathers could speak and shout one plea, “save our youth, be ye patient for that tree.”

Our story is woven in the fabric of our being

The Lord has led me to see the beauty of the classics. Our story is told in them, because He has woven these stories in our innermost fabric of our being. The story of Hansel and Gretel comes to mind. Hard times are introduced giving the reader an idea of a more peaceful time. Evil comes from an unknown origin in the guise of a choice. The stepmother makes the unthinkable choice of getting rid of the children. Then comes next is the compromise­­—the father compromises because of the constant nagging of his wife. Faith and hope are introduced in medium of Hansel’s statement “God will help us.” The perilous journey begins. Birds have always been symbolic of misfortune or evil, by snatching away (as seen with the bread crumbs). The false hope then appears. If it looks too good, it probably is. Enter greed and lust(candy house) to ensnare the children to be subject to the witch (who is crafty and subtle, just like the snake in the Garden of Eden). She is powerful, but not too powerful. She has beady red eyes and does not see very well. The hero, Gretel, saves the day and she and her brother receive a reward for being faithful. They live happily ever after.

Praise is practice forever

Holy Thursday-“Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, or like harmonious thundering the seats of heaven among.” The organist is working a fever pitch of peddles and pulleys. As melodious songs bellow from large pipes, they resound with their victorious cry. The proficient organist is worth her weight in gold, pure gold.
Many of our churches are willing to pay dearly for this caliber of talent. The low note resonates in your chest, “low in the grave He lay.” The high note calls, “Up from the grave He arose!” For 39 days later, Jesus would ascend on high. For what instrument could capture such lows and highs.
The thunderous bellowing fills the worshipers’ ears with great expectation of heavenly scenes. The voice of the parishioners strain to overcome the strong sound that fills the temple. O, glorious day that will be when every tribe, every nation will declare that Jesus is Lord. What that choir will sound like, when the heavenly anthems ring out.
Now, this sound will truly shake the heavens and will fill the air with praise. Thousands upon thousands of people will be lifting their hands, saying, “Worthy is the Lamb.”

Kiss the Face of God

Journey of the Magi-“A cold coming we had of it, just the worst time of the year for a journey, and such a long journey.” As the star gazers watched the evening sky, they searched the stars for signs. How did creation declare the birth of the King of the Universe? What configuration of stars alerted these astronomers to leave home and follow a star?
Most likely, these astronomers were pagans who had multiple idols to revere and worship. Their perseverance to overcome the elements and the unpredictability of the journey to worship a Jewish king was quite unexpected. I wonder what the Magi talked about around the camp fires that dotted their trek through daunting terrain. I wonder if they knew their journey would be immortalized forever in songs and scriptures.
Wild animals, strong places, bandits in the shadows, all beckon to them, “This journey is too hard-turn back.” What draws men to such pursuits for the fulfillment of their souls? Deep calls to deep and pagans read, t"he signs of the time" before the religious. Mary pondered these things in her heart as the wise men worshiped her Son and gave Him gifts. What a strange sight these weary travelers were to a young Jewish girl who would kiss the face of God? Wise men still seek Him, so must we do the same.

The road less traveled

Robert Frost—“I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” Life is full of choices and paths for one to take. The “what’s” and “what if’s” always haunt us in our decisions. There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end leads to destruction.
Why does the easy, fun path seem so good to follow? It appears so bright and inviting to anyone that gazes at it too long. The endless call to choose its way entraps many an errant traveler.
The easier road is wider and grassier than that narrow path. Many are on this wide path. From the pagan to the religious, both travel together unaware of each other’s presence. Can anyone change his path?
The road less traveled is narrow and it seems impossible to stay on this path. This road is not easy to access or obvious to busy travelers. The narrow path is full of pit falls and sheer drops to scare the would-be traveler straight.

We are the pinnacle of God's creation

When God first made man, Having a glass of blessing standing by, “Let us,” said he, “pour on him all we can: Let the world’s riches, which dispersed lie, contract into a span.”(The Pulley)
We are the pinnacle of God’s creation—a precious treasure to Him. The double edged sword of blessing and promise is that man would worship His hand and not His face. God warned the Israelites before they went into the Promised Land that would possibly happen and it did. How often we worship the creation over the Creator. Pain and suffering may be the best remedy for waking someone out of this wretched state of contentment without God, but enjoy His work of His hands. The greatest blessing is an intimate relationship with the creator all others are just road markers leading the way. Creation screams of His glory and His Handy-work cries out day and night that our God is awesome.
One often wonders how in the Old Testament God’s people after seeing and hearing all of God’s miracles how they could leave Him. Well we wake up every day and see the miracle of creation and spurn the creator every day.