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God-lover, singer, poet, writer, friend.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

The Great Ones

Such light! Brighter than a flame it burns upon his brow. The child has been with Him, for glory rests upon his face. Could a child see more of God than what is given to adults? Yes. There are those who hear God’s voice and hear it well though youth still clothes them in its innocence.

Akiane is one, a prophetic child who has walked with God in places most cannot yet follow. She has seen the waterfalls beneath the stairs of glass that God walks on. And the children of Mozambique who talk to angels and heal the sick, the children Heidi Baker mothers, they also know His voice.

Children? – yes. Faith-filled ones not yet grown up into adulthood’s unbelief. For these end-of-days they have been saved and the wisest of us all shall be perplexed.

Little do they know of doctrine – but they know Him. They know love . . . and we do not recognize the great ones in our midst.


Artwork: St. Joseph the Carpenter by Georges de La Tour

Friday, December 07, 2007

Blood Soaked Ground

Fight, my friends, fight on! Though you are to represent His love to this lost world of souls, it matters not – fight on! Strike the other down for His name’s sake and call yourself Defender of the Faith! Who cares if the wide world looks on or bends their ears and hears your violent squabblings. For sake of pride you thrust the other through, but at least your point was made, at least you protected the image of the faith . . . or did you?

And if you, out in the watching world, happen to pass by and see her, the church in all her glory, the one who calls herself the bride of Christ, if you pass by and see the blood soaked ground beneath her feet, know that it is not His bride you look upon. For His bride is on her knees in the dirt, seeking Him whom her heart desires. His bride is so busy loving this sad, broken world that she has no time to fight. His bride in meekness walks and would not defend herself, though religion come against her.

Her eyes would have a gentle light and her sword's edge would be reserved for him who hates the world of men - not for men themselves.


Artwork: Duel of the Women by Jusepe de Ribera

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Visions In The Night

Visions in the night you’ve given me, and now that I have seen your face I am ruined for it. The night shall never be the same to me, not since I have met you there. Dearest One, who wakes me in the night for sake of love to have a chat; to speak to such a one as me, who compared to your eternal age is just a babe.

In my blood your love runs, flowing from your Spirit into mine. I am devoured by desire for your Glory. And so I wait. Patiently? . . . not always. Pensively? . . . sometimes. With a yearning that no earthly thing can fill and with a heart that cries, “This is but a glimmer of who you are – there must be more!”

And visions in the night is where this started, where this love was poured into my soul. Your light has changed the night for me forever.


Artwork: The Spirit of the Summit by Frederic Leighton