A Firm Foundation

Many years ago, a carpenter built a house, foundation and all

The house was neat and comfortable, neither great nor small

Round about were fields of rice and pastures of every size

Over the years, roads were repaved and many lots were sold 

Each lot with a home replaced pastures and rice fields of old

Once considered the country, now it resembled the suburbs

Nestled in south Texas, the house weathered many a storm

With old rice fields all around, standing water was the norm

Yet late one summer, a storm arrived like none other before

After four days of rain, the back deck became a floating dock

The house was an island, its concrete foundation a lonely rock

Still the water rose higher, threatening to flood the little house

Finally the rain and water stopped, giving way to clear blue sky

Barely two inches above floodwaters, the little house stayed dry

Praying and watching from inside the house, the family rejoiced

All through the rains, the family had taken time to stop and pray

However, the Lord provided more than two inches to save the day

The floodwaters stopped short of the house, but there was more

 

Many years earlier, an older house had survived a very similar rain

The carpenter shot a grade to match, then measured six inches again

So the foundation the carpenter laid stood six inches above the other

No matter how much the waters rage, or how hard the winds may buff

Though we may not see God's plan, His provision is more than enough

He is the Rock of salvation, and of our faith He is author and foundation

God's grace in the everyday: Bearing our burdens

Over the years I have noticed many tow trucks with a distinct feature: a hydraulic arm shaped like a cross. However, only recently did I realize that the "cross" on a tow truck actually offers a much stronger reminder and measure of reassurance than just its physical resemblance to a cross. 

In Matthew 11:29-30, Jesus says "Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light." 

The "cross" borne by the tow truck is much like an old farming yoke attached to draft animals; that cross is intended to move loads and  carry burdens (cars) that no individual human being was intended to haul or carry, and bears them for distances we never could, no matter how much help we might get. 

All the things we strive to carry on our own; our concerns, emotions, stress, addiction, anxiety, success, relationships, careers...those are the car with the flat tire, the dead motor, the overheated engine, or the downright wreck. We can cast all such cares on Him, we can let Him take that vehicle of sin, shame, and brokenness off our shoulders, and instead we can follow Him knowing those things are no longer ours to carry, if we just rest in His presence and ride with Him in the "cab of the truck." 

Next time you see a tow truck with a cross on the back, take courage in the reminder that Christ is ready, willing, and beyond able to bear whatever burdens you are carrying, now and forevermore. 

The Return of Hope

When it left I could not see, for I was blinded by pain

What remained was consumed by the desire for gain

Alone I sat among friends for many years thereafter

My heart felt hollow, and yet inexplicably hard 

I looked on life with frustration and bitterness

The only sign of life I still felt inside was sadness

I faltered on paths that once seemed firm and sure

I might contend the paths were sure, yet surely I was not

What had anyone done to me? Little that I could see

In truth, my selfish desires were my own worst enemy

Pride of intellect and hidden lust mixed with laziness

A poisonous mix, leading to an empty, self-righteous image

A mix blinding present and future while tainting the past

This wilderness felt indomitable and exceedingly vast

Early attempts to share hardly scratched the surface

I misunderstood the power of trust; all I felt was despair

Nights uncounted, I asked myself if any hope remained

Even prayer seemed little help, for my heart was still chained

Again, I wondered if any embers stayed alive in the ashes

Could the flame of hope ever be reawoken in my life?

When it came I could not see, for I was blinded by pain

My heart still wrestled with the old desire for gain

Yet somewhere along the way, light had pierced the dark

Slowly, the darkness and blindness began to give way

Long maligned, trust--yes, trust--began to grow anew

This trust came slowly, yet inexorably it still grew

Old pride, impatience, and laziness could not withstand

Every step towards trust revived the lost embers of hope

This slow reforging of trust was no design of mine

Trust and its companion of hope were divine in design

Make no mistake, trust strikes like steel to make a spark

But hope rekindled is a flame sprung to life for all to see

Hope is a light which darkness cannot comprehend

Even if hope seems to fade or die, do not believe its the end

For those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength

In due time, He will restore your hope and revive your heart

These Old Boots

They were battered and worn, these old boots. Bought fresh out of college by a young man whose friends often considered him a cowboy, these boots immediately became his footwear of choice for every occasion: hiking to riding to dancing; even symphonies and weddings. 

Not exotic in style or material, just a simple brown leather with traditional cowboy heel, but sturdy and well-made, these old boots. Miles and miles of daily wear over nearly 12 years, through snow and ice, mud and dust, on the streets and hitting the dance floors. 

The squared toes were bruised, muddied, scuffed and scarred many times along the way on these old boots. Over the years various parts of the boots worn down; the young man replaced the heels at least 3 times, and bought new insoles probably 4 times or more to keep them wearable.

Somewhere along the way, the young man had learned to maintain his boots by rubbing them down with oil after cleaning them of mud or debris. The oil prolonged the life and integrity of the leather, and over the years, he lost count how many times he cleaned and oiled these old boots. 

He cared for them diligently, regularly rubbing them down to minimize scuffs, scratches, and other signs of wear, restoring the leather’s appearance. It kept the leather soft and inside dry, and overtime the outside became more resistant to water, snow, and mud on these old boots.

Still going steady after 12 years, the entire bottom sole plus the heel had just been replaced, and one day while rubbing down the leather, the young man noticed something for the first time: more than just preserving the leather’s life, the oil had given new character to these old boots. 

The old textures were smoother, even while scuffs and scratches created new textures after the scars were rubbed out. The brown acquired a deeper, richer color and the leather developed an elegant sheen. The leather was original, but no longer the same on these old boots. 

It was then the young man appreciated the similarity between the care his Heavenly Father gives to His children and the care given to these old boots. Throughout the years, the Father had done the same for the young man on the inside, often without the young man noticing. 

The Father purified the young man’s heart with the blood of His Son, and set to work on sanctifying his soul through the Spirit. The gracious and merciful work of the Spirit continually preserved the young man’s life and mind through danger, loneliness, and despair.

But again, like the oil, the work of the Spirit transcends preservation; continually rubbing out the scars, scuffs, and scratches of sin, new character emerged. Old regrets, pain, anger, doubts, indifference, and pride were displaced by a deeper, richer faith, full of joy and delight in the Lord. 

If you do not know Jesus Christ, then I hope this will encourage you to learn more about Him and get to know Him. If you already know and believe in Jesus, then I hope this heartens you and lends new perspective to your walk, just like what happened to me while oiling these old boots.

75th Anniversary Salute to Pearl Harbor

Seventy-five years ago today, a battle line rode at anchor along the quay

From the sky one clear Sunday morning, came an attack without warning

Smoke and flames filled the air, as catastrophe struck all caught unaware

An infamous day ended in tragedy, four years later redeemed in victory

Stained by the Blood

I recently revisited an old thought on the effects of the blood of Christ and His sacrifice...I once compared the work of the Spirit to that of a wood stain or varnish on a piece of furniture, how we may be different shades or serve the Lord in different ways, but we all bear the same "stain" of Christ's blood and the "seal" of the Holy Spirit .

In talking with one of my roommates the other day, I noted how a piece of lumber, no matter if it has all smooth grain or if it has knots or scuffs in the wood, the stain covers them all and gives them a beauty they would not really have otherwise.

The more I thought about these things, the more I considered that, in truth, probably the most beautiful areas on stained wooden furniture is where the knots or little deviations in the wood occur. A smooth grain is attractive, but it does not grab the attention or the eye as much as the knots, scars, and other imperfections in the wood's surface. So to, the greatest work wrought by the "stain" of Christ's blood is often the knots, scuffs, and imperfections in our own lives. He alone can take those things that should be found repulsive or the things that gnaw at our souls and transform them into a testimony of His greatness.

What has He transformed in you? How has the stain of His blood impacted your life?

Heroes

The easy desire in life is the longing to be a hero; humbly, or at times not

To be someone who speaks “immortal words” amidst a defining moment

As young children we either hear of heroes of bygone days, or make up our own

We grow older, and we continue to see or hear about what makes a hero

Many qualities are attributed to “heroes” depending on the advocates

However, perhaps the most consistent quality is that heroes are iconic

Whether someone’s hero be flamboyant or humble, tender or hard

They are known by many, and they are examples and role models

However, most people are not heroes, most are just everyday individuals

As Christians, we too may long to be a hero, whether Paul, Ruth, or Peter

Perhaps we would prefer to be a David, Esther, Elijah, Moses, or Abraham

But I believe we often forget something that is critical about them all

No matter the station, be it shepherd or king, foreigner or beloved daughter

They were not heroes of a singular event; they had no “immortal” Alamo

Frankly, they were not “heroes” according to most common standards

What set them apart from those around them, and to this very day was faith

Not a one-time occurrence, but a lifelong pursuit and process of faith

No matter their place in life, they searched for and served the Lord heartily

Sins and mistakes were strewn everywhere along their course, yet they held

They did not seek fame or fortune, though temptation touches everyone

Throughout all trials and successes, fears and doubts, they were steadfast

They are a testimony to our mandate in Scripture, to serve God in all things

In word and deed, in Spirit and in truth, their lifelong focus was serving God
If we are to set an example and be a witness to our King, we must be faithful


In our own trials and successes, we must seek and serve God as our purpose
We will see more clearly who and what we are, and at the end, we will know

Heroes and villains alike have character, but character shows only in time…what will we be?

Path in the Woods

A man walked along a path in a dense, dark wood

Looking to the left he saw nothing and same to the right

However, the path upon which he tread, was illumined by light

Along the way, an object drew him aside and into the wood

Reaching the spot, he found nothing, yet now he was lost

The path had vanished into the trees that surrounded him

Unable to see the path, he headed west on a whim

All he found, was something that came at even greater cost

He tried again to find what he’d lost, but again all was dark

As silence and darkness crept into his heart, so did despair

All over he searched, but nothing filled the emptiness there

For his heart needed far more to fill it than any simple lark

All the while, he knew on his own he would never find the path

And yet, he resisted crying out, though he knew not why

For the pain and isolation were woven within a great lie

A lie trapping him between a lost great love and a fear of wrath

Suddenly he saw a light ahead, akin to the light he’d left

He started toward it, when a snare his ankle caught

Collapsing forward to the ground, “Alas, alas!” he thought

He arose quick as he could, yet once more feeling bereft

The light itself was no illusion like the others he had pursued

This was indeed the light from the path he trod of old

Yet he had strayed too close to the snare’s hold

Slowly his hope started to fade, his thoughts skewed

At times the hope was rekindled, but only to a flicker

Soon he started to strike the trees in futile rage

Feeling trapped in the wood like an animal in a cage

As frustration and loneliness set in all the quicker

All the while, he knew the cry he needed to cry

And every time he saw the light, he silently tried to reach it

Yet, it seemed that every time, there awaited another pit

And every time, he’d get up once more to try

But it seemed every time he got up, the light had gone

The Light had not departed, but was obscured by the wood

In his heart he knew this was true, yet still he would brood

Even then, the light continued to break, though not as a dawn

For he had still not cried out for the Light, merciful Light

And until that time, the light would only remind him

Of the love and joy he had before he followed a whim

The torture was his own creation, and not from the Light

For the light itself, reminded him that he was of the Light

He was not of the wood, yet he was lost within the wood

The dark forest sought to trap him wherever it could

Seeking to quench the joy that was once brilliant and bright

Barely a sound escaped his lips, yet his heart cried out

A nearly inaudible, yet ever so real cry to the Lord

Swiftly, the dark trees shattered, the light, a brilliant sword

The desperate, sorrowful cry changed to a joyful shout

Despite the failures and sins of the son of the Light

His Father, the Light, had neither forgotten his son

Nor had he forsaken him, for His work was not done

He simply tarried ‘til the time He knew was perfectly right

At the designated time, He moved within His son’s heart

Igniting the fire that lead to His son’s desperate cry

And when it reached the Father’s ear, He broke the great lie

Restoring His wayward son with a love that spoke to the heart

And once more, the son sought to follow the path before him

He knew the journey still held many trials of unknown kind

But, he also knew his Father’s Word guarded his heart and mind

That the Lord would hold him ‘til his time, though life turn grim

Let us not forget the love and mercy by which we were bought

For a price so high, how could we not consider the power of grace?

Stumbling or not, we have been given the strength to run this race

To the end, where we will finally realize what God hath wrought

More Than We Knew

How little of "testimony" we knew as youth
A brief tale of how we confessed Your name
Yet this understanding fell far short of the truth

To confess You as Lord is to live an abundant life
This abundance does not come of or for ourselves
This abundance comes from Your blessing despite all strife

Our times of trial, be it our negligence or the enemy's device
We oft grow fearful and may stumble or stray from You
Yet You do not abandon us who forget or abuse Your sacrifice

You continually guide and remind us Who we serve
Calling us to repent and to give all we do to honor You
In mercy you draw us back to the straight path when we swerve

Sometimes confusion overtakes us and we pour out promises
Yet, you do not desire words that tumble from trembling mouths
You desire a people of simple faith, willing to bear our crosses

You call us to boldness, to share our hope with those we meet
A hope that can only come from faith in You Lord
From the Savior we know and the grace you give, oh how sweet

We came as children, simple in understanding and sure in hearts
Since our declaration, through every fear, temptation and trial
You have ever proven faithful, and that is where testimony starts

A Christian's testimony must go beyond when we first confess
We miss so much if we only see it as that initial encounter
As everyday thereafter comprises the testimony You call us to profess

The Victory Won, The Battle Not Done

From whom did we receive the order to disband?

Where in all Scripture does there appear such a command?

Nay, Scripture does not describe our work as done

Yet we lay down our arms with the victory won

The King has conquered but has yet to return

Until that day, we must live out what we learn

We must daily declare His lordship over us

‘Til the battle truly ends and we emerge victorious

Against that day, we received a great commission

To share with the world a love beyond comprehension

For that love comes from the One who made the earth

He sent a rescuer, an intercessor through a virgin birth

Our battle does not lie with the world we see

The battle rages within our hearts, where we cannot see

The world around us visibly filled with turmoil

Yet even this finds its roots deep in spiritual soil

The enemy routed, yet with renegade bands left behind

Our former desire to sin contains a power only Christ can bind

Of ourselves we cannot resist, but in Christ we will overcome

For with His death and resurrection, from sin He gave us freedom

Be wary that you do not falter, or fall into disarray

Take up the whole armor of God, to withstand in this evil day

At all times, cling to the Truth, for the Truth has set us free

By the blood He shed on the cross, He redeemed you and me

The Divine Helper

So riddled and burdened I fall to my knees

In fear and pain, through tears I fervently offer my pleas

When I can do naught but sit and shudder

The Spirit intercedes with words I cannot utter

Moved to my core, yet no words can I speak

At such moments, the Spirit ministers to the meek

My soul soon finds rest in His hiding place

Through no power of mine, but by His grace

When we expect some spectacular sign from on high

Instead, He speaks with a still, small voice to draw us nigh

How blessed are we, who have received Him

In our weakness, He gives us strength and vim

Sin still seeks to pull us away, but it cannot hope to contend

For the Light of men defeated sin and death, hastening their end

In the Holy Spirit, we receive our inheritance

Only through Him does one give Jesus reverence

When doubt rears its head, He casts it down

And reminds me I received a righteous crown

Through no mighty or heroic works of mine

The crown I wear, was given me by one Divine

Beauty, a letter of Praise

Beauty, deserving of praise and high esteem, instead, beaten and downtrodden. Often debased, thy fathomless depths hidden by the pathetic, hollow façade we have given thee. What once moved us at our core, no longer goes beyond what we see.

We long for thee so much more, but fear that to touch Beauty, will shatter her, being so fragile; or that to touch Beauty will shatter the illusions with which we have supplanted her.

We know that to touch Beauty will shatter our illusions no matter where our heart lies, yet we forget that Beauty, even broken, will arise once more, in even greater splendor. For Beauty, fragile though she is, possesses an eternal resilience that gives her strength beyond our comprehension. Attracted by her fragility, and unaware of all but a hint of her resiliency when we see her, she retains a mysterious air about her, which only heightens our attraction to her.

We cannot and will not know Beauty in her fullness unless, and until we know the Lord in full, for all Beauty comes from the Lord; He is Love, and if the depths of Beauty are found fathomless, how much deeper does Love run true. 

Sovereign

A cross for a banner and thorns for a crown

Nails as His scepters and blood upon His brow

His body beaten and bloodied, clothes rent and torn

Through the streets, on His shoulders our burdens borne

All the while they mocked and jeered Him

He could do naught but love and pity them

With His final breath, He forgave their sin

As His Spirit withdrew into Heaven

Followers embalmed and buried Him in a tomb

Satan thought he won, but it meant his doom

For three days later, the stone rolled away

And out stepped the Life, the Truth, the Way

He looked a servant when He came, but left Sovereign

To give up all we have for Him is a small loss for eternal gain

For all we could ever gain here, nothing can go with us

Will we choose to serve our own desires, or to serve Jesus?

Choosing the one leaves us empty and our spirit condemned

Choosing Christ will find us filled, and our spirits redeemed

Broken

Blessed are the brokenhearted who seek God,

His compassion washes over their sorrow

Healing their grieving hearts and soothing their souls

Whoever feels shame rather than sorrow is at risk

They only prepare themselves once more for the fall

For shame draws upon itself, but grief draws us to God

Indeed, both pride and sorrow can break the heart, but

Only grief can break the whole, pride does not know how

One part concerned only with itself, cannot break the whole

Shame only seeks to restore one’s own supposed glory

Sorrow longs for the healing only God can bestow

Shame and sorrow's subtle differences are soon manifest

Only a short time passes before the proud fall again,

While true grief heals but slowly; it cannot run, only walk

To walk offers contemplation; to run leaves no time to reflect

God will restore those who walk with Him in their mourning

They give Him their time and request restoration from Him

That they may press onward with greater faith, hope, and vigor

He never abandons His children, even the wayward

God hears the wayward, who cry out with an open heart,

Broken and grieved by the agony God suffered for their sins

The rest are too busy in the race onto their next great feat

They will achieve what they may, only to see it waste away

They demand God let them alone, to let them do as they wish

Many do not realize their grave mistake until too late,

Because God does indeed grant their requests

He leaves them alone, and their own passions destroy them

Whilst the ignorant race toward restlessness and ruin

The mourners find sustenance and rest for their soul in His arms

Those too weak to continue on their own He will carry

He knows their pain, and more, having drank the bitter cup

He transformed the bitter cup into a wellspring of life

That all who drink from His cup may walk from death into life

His immeasurable love fills, heals, and restores all it touches

Whoever seeks Him will find Him, and will find love, for He is love 

Petition

We make our petition as time passes by
As time goes on, we ask God why
Why does He not grant our request
He smiles down and says, “I know best”


When we go to pray
It may not immediately come our way
The fact we do not acquire
Does not mean He denies our desire


Sometimes we do not receive
Even though we fervently believe
We cannot know His will
Yet we know he means us no ill


Instead, when we go to pray
Simply ask Him to help us obey
If we seek to fulfill His purpose
Surely, His grace will astound us


He requires faith and obedience
Not strength and confidence
Confidence He will give
As well as strength to live


Hardships come our way
But against Him they cannot stay
Still we must do our part
Trusting He will guide our heart


How mighty is our Lord
Whose Word is our Sword
How great a love
From one who came as a dove


He offers peace to those who grieve
Whomever asks will receive
Grace that overflows
To wash away our woes


Be patient when you pray
He will never lead you astray
He will tell you where and when
Once the time arrives. Amen

Stands Alone

In the dark, it calls softly, yet silent

In the light, it makes itself known

A whisper in the heart, an uncanny intuition

It knows secrets untold, holds words no one has heard

It speaks with authority, strong in stature

Just, yet compassionate and supportive

Sometimes it terrifies; many try to suppress it

They discount it because they fear and do not know

Many accept or even embrace it, the freedom it offers

They fear because they simply know and respect its power

Yet no one fully comprehends its power
No one can withstand its power

It needs no support, yet it constantly supports others

Still, the truth remains; it stands alone

Stronger than all, at the last it stands alone

Truth stands alone…

Life is a Fight

We get comfortable and loose our edge

The blows come but none the worse for wear

We go on without a care as the blows are but light

Suddenly those blows drive the wind from us

Everything blurs, where do we stand, will we fall?

Do we have any fight left after comfort stole it away?

When the real fights come to us do we stand, can we withstand?

For all the talk about progress the world remains cruel

We can no more ensure a guarantee than hold a ghost

Guarantees and promises are not the same

Promise is a commitment, guarantee a prediction

One can die while still fulfilling a promise, guarantees go in the trash

When the fight comes our way, do we fight back?

Do we have the grit and the wisdom to see clearly and act?

When life’s fights come our way the choice remains, to fold, or to fight

If we fold then no hope remains; if we fight, hope remains

The weak and hopeless flee or fold, the brave and hopeful fight on

But without love, defeat stares us down, and hope flees our presence

Comfort assures us of others’ affections but love proves itself in silence

Be wary when comfort steps forward, it lays the deadliest trap of all

It makes guarantees of security, prosperity, pleasure and happiness

When the veil ripped the day Christ died, so did this veil of falsehoods

God did not give hope to man through His son that it may be lost

He gave His son that hope would spring eternal

He gave us victory, and the strength and courage to fight

At the end, love conquers all

The Light is the Way

The true, eternal light dwelt among men, but they did not know

Blinded when, amidst the darkness sprang this bright glow

In such a state none could see His true identity

But to all who listened and believed, they will live for eternity

For He came to give men true life

A solitary hope in a world torn by strife

For God so loved the world He sent His only Son

Wherever else men turn for hope they find none

Christ declared Himself as the only way

He calls to all who have gone astray

Those who refuse Him face damnation

But those who come in faith receive salvation

For they followed Him with all their heart

All who believed were set apart

Charged to spread news about God’s grace

To shine His light amongst every race

So all Christ’s disciples, past and present

Must engage in the spiritual war without relent

In holy armor, wielding God’s Word as their sword

Against Satan’s deadly, demonic horde