Orbs of Light

ball ball shaped blur color

Photo by Pixabay 

Dreamlike orbs of light float by. I feel removed from afar. I compartmentalize the uncertainty of these times. It lessens the sharp edge of the unknown, of false information, and loss around every corner. This must be similar to wartime trauma, although in many ways no where near it. Yet still there is communal suffering in my world and there is idle time that cannot be healthy. Texas summer heat is unleashed. The sun beats down in all of it’s glory, unrelenting. Dozens of small wisps of clouds seem motionless in the watery blue of the summer sky.

Yet, in this stillness and overwhelming simplicity I know the Presence of God washes over me. Steady and strong, I know I am meant to live in this time. Right now I am alive. The sharp edge of the unknown lessens because of the Power of the name of Jesus. Yes, I am one of those who cling to the Power of the blood shed on His cross and the indescribable power of His Resurrection! Jesus alone!

I am able to live in the present most of the time as it is the gift He gives me. I am comforted by Him. The Alpha and Omega…The One whose name is Faithful and True. Today is what I have.

 

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True.”  Revelation 1 9:11

Her Daddy was a Sheriff

person releasing shotgun shell on shotgun

Photo by Ünsal Demirbaş 

Her Daddy was a Sheriff  and his Deputy was her son.

She was more afraid of church folks than she was afraid of guns.

Her husband ran off for his moonshine and she was left alone and shunned.

Until one night on a full moon her mind became undone.

She awoke from a dream and in her bed was her Daddy and her son.

They laughed at her clown face where her makeup had all run.

So she grabbed the Sheriff’s shotgun

and fired and killed her son.

The Deputy died in the arms of his Father’s by his very own gun.

The next day she saddled her horse and rode away in the peace of the rising sun

Caraway Street

abstract blur bokeh bright

Photo by Artem Saranin 

I heard the devil is hanging round down on Caraway Street

He’s  looking so good and  singing so sweet.

 

The ladies how they love him, the men like his treats

Oh yea there’s hell to pay down on Caraway Street.

 

Lord,  they say the devil is dancing on Caraway Street

Drinking tastey wine and he’s so quick on his feet.

 

The ladies stand in line because they can’t wait to meet

The men who love the devil on Caraway Street

Like a column of marching Nazis jackboots

person wearing red hoodie

Photo by sebastiaan stam 

 

Like a column of  marching Nazi jackboots.

The Merchant of Death has goose-stepped his way in.

There is no more denial in this hideous illness.

Streets are deserted and creation weeps in stillness.

The politico has become the other greater enemy.

Hatred is ravaging the souls of men.

Oh God deliver us from evil, deliver us from this dark night.

Thank you for your everlasting faithfulness and light!

 

Daily there are new hits

ancient antique armor armour

Photo by Maria Pop on Pexels.com

Daily there are new hits.

The death toll rising and no place to sit,

at the table of commerce there is hunger and doubt.

Some will be let in but so many left out.

 

So  a new reality is here.

In whom will I trust and whom will I fear?

Will people be kind and help stop the bleeding?

My country is dying and my soul is grieving.

 

Decency and kindness are being crucified!

No one tells the truth, the media is all lies!

My soul is crying in the long dark night!

Deliver us oh God with your Holy light!

 

Never let it be said of this patriot here,

that she ever gave up her country so dear!

Let her be remembered as a woman who prayed,

“In God we trust until the end of days!”

 

 

 

I know up ahead there is a stream…

quarter moon and desert

Photo by Louis

I listen to the sound of my boots on the ground.

I walk these dry roads, it is just me.

Nothing but my footsteps makes a single sound,

but I know up ahead there is a stream.

A stream in the desert of loneliness.

A stream that flows for all mankind.

A stream where all people can be washed clean.

A stream flowing with the Water of life.

Each one will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert… Isaiah 32:2

I don’t trust you but I’ll try you…

pexels-photo-134020.jpeg

Photo by Zukiman Mohamad

He smiled with no malice when I said, “I don’t trust you but I’ll try you rather than stay the way I am.”

 “Well, at least your honest,” he replied adding, ” I can work with that. “

So, this man had a sense of humor and his eyes danced like chocolate stars.

His face was not handsome and his hands looked rough and scarred.

There was a warmth and strength in his voice that I’d never heard before.

A sound of gentle peace fell before me like a tide pool near the shore.

We must have walked for hours but I was not tired or worn.

He  told me every single thing I had ever done before.

I cannot express with words the happening.

A wonder of  transformation began to form.

I was then and then I was new and I trust Him forevermore.

 

 

It Is A Civil War

crashing waves

Photo by Ray Bilcliff 

As I sit by the ocean and hear it’s deeply powerful roar.

The waves seem so angry and crash on the shore.

Brother against brother like I have not seen before.

My heart cries at the hatred, it is a Civil War.

Everyone is talking but it is just a screaming noise.

Oh God show us mercy for all we’ve destroyed.

 

 Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 1John4:8

John 3:16.  For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

 

 

 

Come endure the Midnight Hour

brown boat on beach line

Photo by Emre Kuzu 

 

Time is not a matter here

in the midnight hour

I sing to you my love song

though it be worn and tattered

 

I fell the deep wells of danger

of both your Joy and Light

To such will be the way of it

 beneath the looming night

 

Come endure the midnight hour

where language has no name

Yet Hope and Hardship mingle

 with your Faithfulness and Grace

Deep Purple Pain

 

purple abstract illustration

Photo by Anni Roenkae 

 

Weary days of  fear and foe

Deep purple pain just won’t let go

All through the day and into the night

Grief and anger fires burn bright.

 

My country weeps and cracks inside

Believers pray and mother’s cry

Dear God please hear us as we pray

We are sorry that we act this way.

 

Deep purple pain upon The Cross

No one else could pay the cost

Let us walk in your Salvation now

and humbly at your feet bow down.