No Fear of a Moon-god

There was a man named Muhammad.

He married a 6 year-old girl and consummated the marriage when she was only 9 and he was an old man of 54.

In his day the Middle Eastern tribes worshipped 360 different gods, with Allah, the moon-god, chief among them.

His family worshipped this moon-god, so he created his religion around it.

The symbol for the moon-god was a crescent moon, thus he took this as the symbol for his new religion.

He decided that this moon-god would be the only god, forcing all tribes to worship it alone.

He was a man of violence who beheaded all who refused to convert or extorted them for protection money.

Mecca was built as a shrine to this moon-god.

And now millions of dear muslims have turned away from this moon-god for love of Jesus, the God who is love. Though they are killed or beaten or lose all that they own, they now know a love that is stronger and no fear of a moon-god can hold them.

Artwork: Crescent Moon and Star, unknown

A Garden Awaiting

It is right there. Can you not see it? Can you not see the flowers that returned for yet another year? Can you not feel the sun that silently crept into the garden without you noticing? Ahh, but your eyes are downcast. The flat, gray stone is all you see; the cold mud and hard brick beneath your feet is all you feel.

Look up for it is coming . . . look up for change is near. So close that you can touch it if you just stretch forth your weary fingers. The world is alive with sweet color - do not keep your vision in the gray, rainy, dismal days of old.

There is a garden awaiting!

Artwork: Poor House in Melk by Leopold Blauensteiner

All Hell Tried

He could not do it. Oh, he tried, alright. He tried and all hell tried with him. But to no avail . . . that third day came. THAT THIRD DAY CAME!!

It was quite a surprise, I'm sure. A terrifying surprise to him and all his cohorts in that other realm. They cried and whined and sniveled and screamed their rage: "What is this? We had him! We defeated him! We took his life and buried him!"

But then . . . that third day came. And they have been in a rage ever since.

Artwork: Jesus rising from the dead, unknown

The Only Way Through

"There is the gate."

"Him? He is a person, not a gate."

"No, that is the gate."

"But a gate is what one 'goes' through."

"Yes, and they must go through Him."

"They might walk around Him. He is only one person, after all - not very wide."

"They might try. But He is the passage, the Way through. There is no other entry."

"Well, if He is the only way through, that makes for a pretty narrow gate."

"It does. And it is . . . narrow, that is."

"Not everyone shall like the idea of going through Him. They shall try all manner of ways to enter."

"They shall; in fact, many shall. But . . . there is only one gate . . . and it is Him."

Artwork: Coming Glory by Mareesha D.S.  

A Glimmer

"There! Did you see that?"

"What? See what?"

"Over there, there it is again. Did you not see it that time?"

"I think I did. What is it?"

"I am not certain . . . but I think . . . I think it is a glimmer."

"A glimmer? What's a glimmer?"

"A glimmer! You know . . . a tiny glimmer of hope."

"Hope?"

"Yes, yes, I'm certain of it now. I've seen that kind of glimmer before. Quick! There's one up there! See?"

"Ahh, yes, I saw it that time. So that's what hope looks like."

"Oh, yes, that's exactly what it looks like - if you've got eyes sharp enough to see it. Not many have, you know. Not many can see a glimmer."

"I can see why. They rather sneak up on you, don't they?"

"Yes, they do."

Artwork: Fireflies © Daan Michael Hoekstra

Swept Away

Another one washed away. Another one is swept off by the shifting tide of culture. The shepherds of this flock lost their way a very long time ago. They moved this church from off the rock. They wanted softer ground on which to sit upon, something more like . . . sand.

The sun was shining on the day they moved. The sand seemed quite inviting. They even removed the cornerstone of the foundation; what a silly thing to do. Remove the cornerstone? What builder would do that? But they did it, nonetheless.

And then the rains came. And the sand disappeared beneath. And every sheep within that building was swept away and lost . . . All because the shepherds lost their way a very long time ago.

Artwork: Inferno (c) Samy Charnine
https://surrealism.website/Samy%20Charnine.html

Written On Your Palm

I am a small one kneeling in the dirt, my God, my lovely Father. Yet I am someone you cannot forget - for so you said. You said my name is written on your palm and forever you'd remember who I am.

Small but memorable to you and imprinted on your hand. Such love I cannot help but offer back. Let all the world hear me shout: Such a God are you - so fierce! So shatteringly beautiful! An all-consuming fire that is merciful and kind! You are unlike any that has ever been, is now, or shall ever come to be.

And here I am, kneeling in the dirt, a small one who shall never be forgotten.

Artwork: I Yield My Heart to You © James Nesbit

https://jnesbit.com/

Simple

There it is, do you see it? Right there in her little face. It is what Jesus sees, and it makes Him smile. It is what He wants to see in all of us. What He demands, in fact. Nothing complicated here - just a simple, innocent, child-like heart, filled with trust for her Papa God.

It is eyes like hers that can see the wonder of Him.

Artwork: The Vision © Akiane

https://akiane.com

Bent Beneath the Load

There is nothing you can bring to me I need - I am the uncreated One, remember? I have no needs. I have no need for your works or deeds or honors or accomplishments or your position. And I can see that you have little need of them also, as your back is quite bent beneath the load. How long will you last carrying such weight? Will you make it to the end of the road? It could be a long road, you know, this journey you call your life.

Why not lay it all down and come to me empty-handed? ... That's a thought.

Artwork: Carrying a burden, unknown

Pounded Down With Nails

Every sin ... what weight it must have been. Every sin. Not just sin from one or two, not just sin from tens of thousands, but the sins of all humanity throughout the history of the earth were laid upon him. A world’s weight set upon his frame and pounded down with nails.

What sheer breadth and height it would have measured (if sin could possibly be measured thus): homosexuality, pornography, hatred, murder, lies, rebellion . . . countless sins in every shape and form as can be imagined in the heart of man.

And at that moment of the laying of our sins upon him ... God's wrath was satisfied. The payment for our souls was made. Someone had to pay the penalty, and only he, who had no sin, could do it.

Artwork: Nailed to the Cross, unknown

Stuff Falling Off

Welcome to the family! Did you know that you are now a royal child? Your father is a King (the King of kings) and you shall learn his ways now that you've been adopted into this large clan of his.

O, we can be a noisy bunch - we love to laugh! And you will find all sorts of stuff falling off you that you did not even realize you carried . . . burdens, that is. Ailments and griefs of various kinds. Baggage and trappings that never served you very well after all.

O-ho! Yes, welcome to the family. Such a good thing that you are here at last!

Artwork: Set Free © Deborah Nell

https://deborah-nell.pixels.com/

Let the Dreams Begin!

He visits them in dreams . . . and they believe in Him. By the thousands they are turning, bowing knee to ground to worship Him who is the dearest of them all.

And who can stop the Son of God from entering into a sleeper’s quiet rest? No one can. Who can stop dear Muslim souls from believing in their heart that Jesus saves? No one can.

And the eastern world accuses, “it’s a foreign plot to convert Muslims!” Oh, no, not a foreign plot at all— it is a God plot! A Holy Spirit plot! An incredible plot thought out by God Himself at the beginning of the world.

Night is falling now . . . the eastern world is lying down to sleep . . . the trumpet blasts . . . and heaven shouts, "LET THE DREAMS BEGIN!"

Photograph: Jesus in a dream, Jesus resurrection unknown

Just the Beginning

"Do you see that?!!"

"Yes, I do."

"They're starting to believe!"

"Did you doubt?"

"Well . . . er, yes . . . I must say I did. And what now with such faith?"

"Ha! Walking on water is just the beginning."

Artwork: walking on water, unknown

Human Strength

“It is finally happening!”

“Yes, it is.”
“He looks very strong.”
“He is. But not strong enough to break his chains.”
“Ah, yes, the chains. They all have them.”
“They do. And in their human strength some can carry them for a very long time.”
“This one has a praying mother, doesn't he?”
“Oh, yes. And since he was in her womb she has never stopped interceding for him.”
“Does he know what brought him to this place?”
“Not completely; but he will. It’s enough for now that he is here.”
“This is exciting! I’ve never seen it happen. You know, actually been here at the moment. So now, when do the chains actually fall?”
“Any moment now, you will see . . . shh, listen . . . he is doing it. He’s asking Christ into his heart.”

Photograph: Man in Chains, unknown

White-hot Metal

Innocence is precious. We think of it as soft and pure—little lambs and babies. But there is a purity that is like white-hot metal, that burns into our souls, that purges all the dross. It is my Beloved One that grants me such a touch as this, a burning touch that cleanses my soul and restores my innocence.

Christ, the sinless One, the daringly loving One, the One whose heart is ever longing for the lost ones He died for. It is His touch that restores, refreshes and makes clean. Such a feeling to be clean! Soaking for a thousand days in water would not let me feel as clean as one touch from His Holy Spirit.

Who would not want the feeling of a clean soul? . . . if only they knew. Burning can be a very good thing.

Artwork: Innocence by Bougoureau 

Are We Not Gods?

God is so creative! From out of His mind sprang the entire order of the universe - such an astounding thing that mere mortals find it difficult to grasp. We are boxed in by our little minds, refusing to believe in feats to which we ourselves cannot attain. We sit before our Creator with our chests puffed out and insist with presumed intelligence, “God did not do that! There is no god, in fact!” 

We sit, determined to not heed anything that might say we are wrong. Wrong? Us? Are we not the smartest of all creatures? Are we not gods ourselves? Do we not have the power of the divine hidden down within only waiting to come out? What tragic, silly beings we’ve become. 

And God looks down upon those He made and sees the rebellious little children that we are. 

Artwork: Infant Jupiter by Sir Joshua Reynolds

I Will Never Make You Carry That

It is simple. If it were not, my back would have broken long ago beneath the weight. I simply followed Him. Regulations were not heaped upon my back by Him who is the kindest of them all. Men have tried to do that - but never Him! He has always gently removed those nefarious back-breaking religious burdens that men have tried to lay on me and said, “No, my child, that is not for you. I will never make you carry that.” And suddenly I feel light on my feet again. Suddenly I walk with a lilt in my step, as I realize the only thing I need to do is love Him. 

It is that simple. Too simple some would say. But, no, that is how it is. He did all the work and by faith in Him we reap all the life . . . simple! 

Artwork: He That is Without Sin © 2008 Liz Lemon Swindle

http://www.greenwichworkshop.com/swindle/

When All Shaking is Done

Tearing down mountains creates quite a shaking - did you not know this? Did you think it would be instant or easy, or that all would agree to it?

Oh, no . . . When a mountain's removed there's a frightening noise, a terrible shaking throughout all the land. In DC there is a mountain of evil that God is removing. Stand strong! Don't be afraid! God is restoring our destiny and rebuilding a nation.

It is quite a mess.

God holds President Trump in His hands. And God loves this nation. All is not over . . . hold onto God's words and keep praying. God decides rulers and dominions and times, not politicians, and not the swamp creatures who are now in plain sight. The lines have been drawn. Who'll stand with God? Who will have faith? Who are the Joshuas and Calebs? . . . When all shaking is done, we shall see.

Artwork: Third Eruption of the Revolutionary Volcano by Auguste Desperret

Glory Warms My Limbs

He delights in me! I have a God in heaven whose thoughts toward me are too numerous to count. He says I’m the apple of His eye. He loves my company and only wishes I would spend more time with Him. Even when I sin, a sometimes faithless one, He loves me. The Beloved One, my truest friend, my advocate, my steadfast ally, looks down upon me and His Glory warms my limbs as the midday sun and makes me smile. 

And this brash love, this outrageous passion that He has for me, He extends to all. I wish the world to know that the only life worth living is found in Christ . . . can you imagine being loved like this? It is beyond imagination. 

Artwork: Ecstasy by Maxfield Parrish

The Emperor is Naked!

"That is a man in women's clothes!" so said the innocent child, pointing his finger at him.

They all saw a man dressed in women's clothes. They knew his male chromosomes could never change and they whispered to each other, "This transgender thing, it is a lie." Yet would they dare to speak the truth aloud? Heaven's no! They fawned over his pretty clothes and smiled their fake smiles at him ... yet would not, could not, bring themselves to speak the truth for they might fall out of favor.

"That is a man!" exclaimed the child again, looking with astonishment at the grown-ups round him, for they were all afraid to say it. But the child wasn't. And the child could not lie.

We know the story well - The emperor has no clothes! The emperor is naked!

Artwork: The Emperor's new clothes, unknown

Reaching Up

Reach up and call His name. That’s all you have to do. Reach up when black clouds descend upon your soul with a weight that tries to crush. 

Reach up and call upon the name of Jesus. Shout it if you have to; weep, if that is how it comes; whisper it if you feel you have no strength. He will hear, I promise. He will not stay far away for long.

When He stretches forth His hand, instantly the clouds will part. Deliverance will come because He owns it. It belongs to Him and Him alone. Redemption belongs to Him ... and so does love. All of it is His. But do not give up. Do not stop calling out His name and reaching up. I know without a doubt that He will come.

Artwork: Hand of God, unknown

Try to Take Over the World

Pinky and the Brain had it right. The goal today is like every day: TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD! For the sake of Christ we go forth with love and humility. Our goal? To take over the world for the one who suffered and died for it.

No half-way commitment will do. No frightened, shriveling soldiers will suffice. No water-downed belief system will carry through. No hard-edged, merciless religion will work. It is His grace, His love, and His power that we must have.

Try to take over the world! Have you ever thought about that? One heart at a time they use to say, but it shall be thousands of hearts at a time now. They shall come pouring into the Kingdom like a flood and we will lay the world at His holy feet.

Artwork: Pinky and the Brain

A Harsh Goddess

Dear little one,

She wants your life. She is a harsh goddess, demanding you be put to death, and the men and women who bow to her are willing to do whatever it is she wants ... and she wants you sacrificed.

He who breathed life into your small self shall one day slay this evil queen, this Jezebel, and pull her from her throne. And all those who worship her shall weep and gnash their teeth to see her fall. But till then, they will continue to kill you little ones to feed their goddess' appetite and they will make war against all of us for the right to do it.

Photo: Baby in the womb sucking thumb, unknown

Shine

Truly, I want my heart to be filled with Your presence and I need the pursuit of You to be what fills my hours. How do I come to that place? I am not certain, but You know. You know everything. 

Change me to be a true replication of Jesus, my precious Savior. I wish to be as beautiful as He is. I wish to shine with the Glory of Father as He does. 

Shine . . . shine . . . shine! That certain something that glows from His eyes must shine from mine.

Artwork: Beata Beatrix by Dante Gabriel Rosseti