Nothing

There has been another suicide.  Pray.  Please.

To that, I have nothing to add.

Monday Morning

I am only cynical about cynicism.

Pstorm 16

Of what can I ask of
The Almighty God?

I have committed a million sins,
my transgressions surpass the autumn leaves–
and each, and every, one would have kept me killed
were it not for the Root.

How smart is a man that the Most High God
should trust him?  How wise is a woman
that He should put His hope in her?

Do constellations consult fading flowers?

Whose Hand commands the clouds?
Who directs the path of the storm?

It is futile to long for the way life once was–
for God has not given us the power to change the past,
only to shape the future–right now;

Our actions today echo unto tomorrow,
and throughout eternity.

And as surely as the sun shall rise
in the east and set in the west
so may I trust my Father through the monsoons;
for when the winds of change
redirect the course of human events,
and the hope of human hands has been torn asunder,
faith must be sanctified–to the point of purity.

Joy is not the absence of anguish,
but the hope of wisdom,
the faith of forgiveness,
the living water of eternal love
–a sunrise through the storms.

Pstorm 15

My heart is heavy
and my whole body aches.

Late last night, I tossed and turned,
wondering what tomorrow holds–

Yesterday, I was living in luxury,
though not by human standards;
I simply had more than I needed.

This morning, I am as Job–
my wealth is gone,
and seven have died.

This afternoon,
the landscape of my life
has become as Judah–
a desolate wasteland razed by warriors,
conquered by a foreign king from Babylon.

But tonight, tonight–
let my heart rest
and my mind settle;
let my soul be still.

For the Spirit of the Lord
shall never forsake me,
nor the Most High God forget me.

I do believe–
but help me overcome my unbelief!

Stay with me, Father!
Please stay with me, Daddy!
Never again do I want to endure
a night so dark as that.

Seeking Sunrise Through The Storms.

Today.  Tomorrow.
Until my final day–

When the Sun of Righteousness reigns.

WaterFire

“I remember.”

Some things, words just can’t express.  You have to see for yourself.

Rose of Roses 2

“You will find her when you become the man she deserves.”

Pstorm 14

How many friends have I betrayed in silence?

How many souls have I abandoned
with my refusal to speak?  And how much
more so my enemies?

Is my own storm so great I have not
the courage to share the sunrise
of God’s Word?

The Lord has given me eyes to see–
and I must look!

Even an evil heart is hungry for the bread of life,
and a malicious mind thirsts for living water–

But self-righteousness is cynicism justified,
for an arrogant man can do no wrong;
he blames others out of pride, and loses
his own identity to his own selfishness.

Christ was crucified trying to teach such men,
and He died hoping to gather them.

Will the nails pierce my hands and feet as well?

Lost souls in a lost world press upon my shoulders–
so I beg God for the courage to speak:
with as much wisdom as conviction,
and passion as power under control.

Without wisdom, my burning bones
shall scald the forsaken,
Without conviction, my words are
as empty as a dry well,
Without passion, I am salesman
peddling fire insurance,
Without power under control, I speak only
torrential rains, drowning the forgiven.

But without love, all of that and more remains true,
and I shall fade away like a sandcastle at high tide.

O Lord, let me build this house upon the Rock!

Give me strong cedars to make boards,
steel to forge nails, shingles for shelter,
and many windows to see the world,
that I may invite the hopeless and
he homeless into Your House.

Dear God, give me the courage and
the conviction, the passion and the power
under control to share the Good News.

Enable me to speak with accuracy,
empower me to teach with authenticity!

Though my dark heart may turn away
from the light for a time, or a time and a half,
please remember my prayers, Father!
Let them echo unto eternity, just as surely
as my name is written in the Book of Life.

Do not let my convictions vanish
like a morning mist at midday, nor hide
in the fog of foolish questions of no substance,
or the smoke of meaningless debates
and endless arguments–

For opinions do not solve problems,
laws cannot change hearts,
rules do not save us,
and boundries cannot protect us;

And no man ever accepted Truth
because he lost the argument.

The faithful love of the Lord endures forever.

My First Storm

In an instant, memory makes me a child again…

It’s late.  I sit up in the dark and see shadows of streetlight rain falling against my bedroom wall.  As the thunder fades, I hear voices coming from down the hall.

Mom and Dad are fighting again, probably because Mom has had too much to drink again.
As the sounds come to me, I imagine the mess being made in the kitchen–the scattered silverware, the shattered dishes…Was that the table?

My sister has come into my room to sleep because she is scared to death.  Sitting up on the floor, she asks if I want to pray.

“I don’t know how.”

She prays without me.  ”Hail Mary, full of grace…”

She goes on.  I close my eyes, reaching for something that I cannot grab with a silent prayer that I think can.

I wake up  and see a closet that is half-empty.  Dad’s side of the bed has not been touched.

And I hear my mother crying, “Seventeen years and he’s thrown it all away!”

I have always been a good student, but the next day at school I can not concentrate.  I wonder what I have done that lead my father to leave us.

Was it because I poured my orange juice back into the jug?  Was it because I ate all the crackers?  Or was it because I made that spaghetti sandwich?

My teacher sees me crying.  She comes to me and asks if I am okay.

I shake my head.

“Do you understand what we’re doing in our workbooks today, NorEaster?”

I shake my head again, tears still falling down my cheeks.

“Okay…” She squats down and explains it to me.  And she does not give up until she knows I understand.

And that I’m going to be okay.

My older brother is in cub scouts.  He has to write a secret message by dipping a toothpick into some milk and writing on a white piece of paper.  Mom wants him to write a secret message to Dad, who is coming to visit us this weekend.

But my brother takes too long.  So Mom asks, “What are you writing?”

My brother says, “‘Dear Dad.  Please come back.’”

My heart breaks when Mom screams–that is not what she wanted him to write.

I feel bad for my brother;  I have always looked up to him.

One day, Mom comes home from work and finds the court papers.  Dad wants us to live with him.  Mom grabs the papers and head down the hall and into the bedroom and gets on the phone.

A short while later–days or weeks or months–I am sitting in a room with people I have never seen before.

“Who do you want to live with, NorEaster?  Your mother or your father?”

“I definitely want to live with my father.”

Mom still drinks too much.  She gets mean when she drinks.  She punches me.  And my sister and my brother, too.

“You ‘definitely’ want to live with your father?”

“Yeah.”

Everybody else does, too.  I just know it.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…”

Who are you?

“…you can live with your father for six months and if it doesn’t work you can go back and live with your mother, okay?”

“Okay.”

I’m going.  Everybody is.  I just know it.

Afterwards, they put me into a room with my sister and my brother.  I found out that my sister chose Dad, but my brother chose Mom.

My brother and me had never been separated before; I am moving back in six months.

How long is six months?

My father got married again.  She gave birth to a son–the baby brother I always wanted.  She is young and isn’t very good at cooking.  One night, she made a stew that wasn’t ready when Dad came home from work.  And it wasn’t ready when it was time for me to go to bed.

From upstairs, I can hear my father shouting–”What time do you expect us to eat, midnight?”

Maybe they will get divorced.  Maybe Mom and Dad will get back together!

But, the next morning, they were still married.

Six months later, my father is sitting down on the couch, having a beer and some crackers and watching the news.

I tell him I want to go home.

He cried.  And so did I.

When I get back home, I think things are going to go back to the way they were.  I think I amgoing to see my friends again, but they put me in the other class.

Things are never going to be the same again.

It takes a lifetime for a child of God to grow up.

And where once I stumbled racing with men on foot, I have since run with horses.

Even so, I must finish the race.

The Sound of Thunder

“Time is My currency,” says the Lord.

“Why do you wait in line for hours to get the new iPhone,
  but you do not wait on Me?  You waste hours upon hours
  surfing the net while people are still waiting to hear Good News.

“You have fallen prey to pastors that make you feel good,
  because you are unwilling to suffer for the sake of My Name.

“Yet, it was not so with your ancestors.
  For on the seventh day of the twelfth month,
I drew your grandfathers into a war to liberate My people;
  when I saw their courage and sacrifice,
 I blessed the work of their hands,
  but now you are like spoiled children!

“You wait for hours upon hours after stuffing your stomachs,
  but you are from giving thanks to Me on Black Friday!
You trample the elderly and the poor and act as though
  it is your right to slay those I have created!
Stop stomping My Image!  You hypocrites!
  You brood of vipers!  You are self-righteous fools!

“You pride yourselves because four words are
  printed on your paper money, and twelves letters
  are engraved in your coins–but it is not in Me you trust!

“‘Cash or credit’ has become your god!

“When you hear of a hacker stealing the records of a stranger,
  you think nothing of calling it ‘identity theft’!
For you have wrapped your entire existence around money;
  you do not stop to think that cash cannot save you,
  and credit cannot redeem you.

“But you have put your faith in the works of your hands!
  You ungrateful snobs!  Have you forgotten the sacrifice
  My Son made so many years ago?
  Have you ever understood it?

“I want to give you treasure in heaven, but you want it all now!
  You spoiled brats!  Your technology is chaff to Me,
  for with a breath of wind I can blow it all away–
  but it will perish by fire instead.  With gravity alone
  I can break your precious iPod; for you delight in it
  as though you had seen My Face!

“Have none of you remembered the lessons of Katrina?
  Listen closely, in eight hours, one man lost thirty-five people,
  but I spared him to tell of My power.
  Even with the storm approaching, he still had hope
  for what he had.  For he had parked his motorcycle in his living room,
  thinking, ‘Perhaps it will be safe here.’  It was not.
  For nothing is beyond My reach.  But, nine months later,
  that motorcycle was found sixty-five miles out in the gulf,
  so rusted from the sea it fell apart with one kick!

“Such is the fate of all the nations
  unless I, the Lord, build the house.

“Without love, a house is not a home.

“Money only pays the rent,
  but you want to lead the glamours life!

“Look closely!  See My servant sleeping in his car
  two and three nights a week because he cannot
  afford the gas to drive home and sleep in his own bed!
  Yet, he thought nothing of driving over a hundred miles
  to visit My child, who lay in sickness.

“He works today for half of half the wages he earned yesterday,
  still, he does not complain; and neither does he blame
  foreigners for his predicament–for he knows what greed does,
  and My servant remembers well that My people were once
  foreigners in the land of Egypt; because I have written
  My Word upon his heart.

“But your hard hearts cannot see that illegal immigrants
  honor their fathers and mothers more than you do,
  for they send money home to help their families.
  You look down upon them, but I will raise them up!

“Do you think that My commands have national boundries?
  Is there a limit to My eternal truth?  Why are you bound to
  prejudice instead of My Word?

“You care not for single mothers nor fatherless children–
  because you have forsaken those women, I will by their Husband;
  because you have condemned their children as bastards,
  I will be their Father.

“You are like newly washed cars with engines that don’t run,
  like trucks with a fresh coats of wax that cannot start.

“Your bleached teeth are white as snow,
  but your mouths are filled with cavities!

“Your women get botox injections to build their self-esteem
  and breast implants to seduce men,
  but smooth skin cannot turn back the tide of time
  and surgery is not the fountain of youth.
  Surgeons are salesmen–
  who hold not the keys to the gates of death.

“Even a man of thirty has not the energy
  of his younger years;
  and a man of forty can feel his body fading.

“And just where is My Body–My Bride, the Church?
  Are you afraid to speak eternal truth amidst temporal lies?

“Turn to Me, and I will give you new bodies
  that neither wilt nor wither,
  bodies that know not of time or scars–
  perfection upon eternity unto My Presence.

“But for now, I have called upon you
  to offer up yourselves as living sacrifices–
  but you have traded prosperity for greed,
  humility for pride, forgiveness for intolerance,
  compassion for prejudice, and mercy for condemnation;
  you have chosen self-righteousness over self-denial!

“For My Son gave His life to bring hope to those who have none,
  but you preach message of hate, not hope.

“Come to Me,” says the Lord.  ”And remember, time is My currency;
  spend it wisely and you will be rewarded.
  Be responsible now and I will give you eternal treasure.
  For he who can be trusted with little can be trusted with much.

“But if you squander My Son’s blood as you have your own wealth,
  I will squander you; preach intolerance instead of Good News,
  and I will be intolerant of you.

“Come to Me, before it is too late;
  for there is a storm on the horizon.

“Turn to Me, and I will turn it away.”

Pstorm 13

What reason this sin?

Is the Most High God ignorant of the complications of the curse?
Has the Almighty forgotten what the forbidden fruit has done to us?

Can a man count the rain?

Only You, Lord, have numbered the dancing raindrops falling
  upon the surface waters, and You have determined the path
  of each, and every, one.

The vegetation drinks the rain, but wilts in times of drought.

So it is with us–
  men dehydrate without living water,
  and women starve without daily bread.

When the storms hit, I always see the wind–
  but wisdom comes when the clouds clear.

I remember Ryan.
  He was just a boy, Father–a child with hemophelia
  who contracted HIV through a transfusion–
  before we knew enough to screen blood for the disease.
  I never met him, but I wanted to;
  we never got the chance.

I wondered why.  What did he do to deserve such a destiny, Father?
  Do You not defend the innocent and protect the helpless?
How could a loving God allow such a fate to fall upon a boy?
  What purpose could that child’s suffering possibly serve?
Then, I remembered the ignorance and the arrogance of the early years:

  for there was a time when HIV had no name,
  and AIDS was known as the “gay plague”–
  and so many false followers, refusing to proclaim
  the Good News in such a dreadful time, said instead
  that the disease was “god’s punishment upon homosexuals”.
But the life of Ryan White proved otherwise,
  and his death confirmed it–irrevocably.

Hope is believing something good
  can come from something bad.

AIDS does not discriminate, Jesus died for sinners,
  And the time of the Lord’s favor–forgiveness for a fallen world—-
  was instituted by the Christ Himself.
   And He will read the next sentence when the time comes.

And ends.

In that day,
  may the Lord have mercy.

May the Lord have mercy on us all.

For when the light inside is darkness,
  how great is that darkness!