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

Saturday, November 29, 2008

He Fell Hard

He fell. He was most beautiful; the loveliest one amongst angels. He was the keeper of the song, chief musician extraordinaire with gemstones on his brow. He commanded legions of the heavenly powers and they did his bidding well . . . so well, that they followed him in the fall.

Charmer, deceiver, attempted usurper of the heavenly crown – his name once was Lucifer, once was a fair name. No more. Now he wages war against all creation and a bloody battlefield it is for he has lost his sting and it enrages him.

“I saw satan fall like lightning from heaven!” so said Christ. And he fell hard.

Artwork: Falling Star by Witold Pruszkowski

Once-orphaned One

I am an orphan no longer. I know my Father now. I know the One who made me and the reason for which I was made. There is so much more than this dusty world which we inhabit; there is so much more than eye can see and mind can fathom, but it is there.

I longed for one to hold me and now He does, so tightly that none can snatch me from his hand. I hungered for a bit of bread and was invited to a banquet with tables full of feast. I huddled in the cold till someone covered me with a love that warmed my being with an unearthly warmth. It is a love that none can comprehend excepting that once-orphaned one who finally found a home in Him.

I have a home! Those are words that all men wish to speak.

Artwork: Abandoned by Luigi Nono

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Because of Love

She was sixteen, a gentle thing. She came to know the One who loved her more than life. From that moment on she chose to follow Him, this one name Christ. But there was a problem. She had to tell her parents of this love. They were Muslims living in the Middle East and Islam does not allow for such a love, has never known such love and cannot comprehend it.

Her parents thought that they could beat it out of her, this love that gripped her soul. They tried. They kept her in her room for days, starving her between the beatings. But she would not recant – for she knew a love far greater than the temporary pain. And then she died.

Why did they kill her? Because of hate. Why did she not succumb and renounce her Christ? Because of love. Scream, abuse, deride, condemn – it is all for naught if Christ’s love has firmly gripped a heart. Love is the great combater and the tyrants of this world well know it . . . Christ is their greatest fear.

Artwork: St. Veronica by Paul Delaroche

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Storms Piled Against You

You never thought it would be like this, did you. You thought once you followed Christ it would be calm sailing here on in, gentle waves carrying you softly along, sweet birds singing and all that. But then all hell broke loose – yes, say it like it is; that is exactly what happened. Hell broke loose against you because you suddenly became one of its greatest enemies: A Christ-lover, a Jesus-follower, a cleansed-one. And hell doesn’t much like that.

The storms piled against you with a violence you were not expecting. Nasty storms. Cruel storms. Uncomfortably wet and irritating storms. One right after the other. You thought for certain you would drown . . . but you didn’t! You’re getting your sea-legs after all and I think you will do just fine.

Welcome to the good side!

Artwork: The Great Mishap © 2008 Linda Bergkvist

Let Everybody Watch

Presidents will come and go but they cannot change the grand scheme of things that God has planned. For God is in control not men. Men may think they are but the angels laugh at such a thought! Tiny, temporal humans made from dust, like molecules before the sun, think that they direct events? What a silly thought.

No, all things are moving forward just as planned by Him whom I call lovely. Darkness shall increase, but the glory of the One who died and resurrected shall shine brighter than the sun – and we who are the molecules that stand before this sun? We can each choose to bow our knee to Him or not. So let the play continue on this stage we call "the world" and let everybody watch. God shall have the last applause.

Artwork: An Audience in Athens During Agamemnon by Aeschylus