Dancing on a Black Hill

 

photo of wildfire on mountain

Photo by Sippakorn Yamkasikorn

It is like first seeing a wildfire not knowing what it is.

Like orange flickering holiday lights dancing on a black hill.

The odor of burnt vines and smoke are miles and months away

but slowly and surely the wildfire is edging  our way.

 

 

At first people believe it won’t affect their world

they ignore their inner call to action or care.

The next thing they know all sight is lost in smoke

now everything is burning like the wheat and the tare.

 

 

We should have listened to the prophets

their facts written in black and white.

Now the oil of apathy cannot be returned to its urn

The orange lights are now full raging fire that burns.

 

 

I put on my pink dress and kneel down to pray…

white clouds and blue sky

Photo by Ithalu Dominguez 

 

Butterscotch Sunday melted away

We rode on the train down by the bay

We built little castles with dirty brown sand

We bought Colombian

heard the Stephen Stills band.

 

You said I was the beauty of the earth

Flowers in my hair, cigarettes in my purse.

I thought that train ride would never end

until I saw you on the bridge with my best friend.

 

I pack my bags on a Butterscotch Sunday

put on my pink dress and kneel down to pray.

All the dirty brown sand castles crumble down

I’m gonna board the next train out of town.

 

Home

people sitting on the edge of a cliff

Photo by Angelo Duranti

Her passion is tender.

Her pain is massive.

Her mind is lithe and quick.

Her body is no longer as swift.

 

Her temple once was a house of cards,

built by her birth, her fear, and her works.

Now she stands on the rock called Jesus

careful to follow him with her cross.

 

A new temple foundation built,

she is sure of this The Holy One.

He makes all things new with his Holy breath,

and will lead her in both life and death…

Home.

Get the Kill Shot (based on a true story)

man in camouflage army uniform holding rifle

Photo by Kony Xyzx

 

She has been hiding here for almost three days…she is basically lying in a sewer. The smell and wetness don’t affect her anymore. To get the shot she must not move. The target is hiding out in a bombed out building. She didn’t eat, barely sipped enough water to stay alive and wore basically a diaper for urine. She has had very little solid food in her so her bowels did not move…she stayed hydrated and that is key but if the shot took much longer she would inevitably grow weaker. One time she stayed in a position for six days…recovery was rough. She would need intravenous fluids after this and a push of vitamins and electrolytes as well but she knew her body and she knew her window of time and the clock was running.
She is well camouflaged by a versatile cape that also provided some protection from rain and dampness. Her small frame is every inch muscle. She is tall and lean. Her rifle is wrapped in strips of burlap and tied down with yarn to ensure no reflection from the sun. To be a good sniper you simply must have common sense. It is a matter of fact. What is the distance to the target? How will gravity influence the bullet across its travel distance? What are the wind conditions? Is the target moving? Is the target getting too comfortable with his hiding place and becoming less vigilant? If the target is moving, how fast is his speed? Most people believe being a good sniper is all about control and having the best rifle but she begged to differ. She believed it all came down to what she believed about herself, about what she knows she is capable of, and what she is willing to do to get “the shot” the first time. She does “know” her rifle intimately however. It is like a part of her body. She knows the rifles scope like she knows her husband. She is precise about everything. Being the best sniper involves making decisions in the split of a millisecond and knowing it is the right decision without question. She is able to slow her mind. She thinks “I am one with this sewer, I am sound. By the time you hear it and try to process it, it’s too late because I am already gone.”
Yes she is a woman. She is a soldier. She is a Special Forces soldier. She is here to serve her country. She does not worry about PTSD or being raped by anyone. Those are the only subjects most of the world like to talk about when it comes to women in the military. She has never been disrespected by male soldiers and she has never disrespected a male soldier. Her calling is to be the best soldier she can be and she is a good one. She is an even better sniper. She will not hesitate to kill the enemy. She does not count her kills but she has never regretted even one of them. She has saved the lives of hundreds of soldiers by doing her job and being the best. She is a daughter, sister, wife, and mother. She is a woman. She is brave and she is one of the elite in her field. She is part of a controversy, not by her choice, in America regarding women in the military but she will carry on because her country needs her. She is paving the way for other smart determined women soldiers. She has counted the cost and is willing to pay the cost. She is an American hero…ahhh, here is the moment, the millisecond has arrived, and she takes the shot…it is done.

When day falls hard

scenic photo of water dam during daytime

Photo by Frans Van Heerden

 

When day falls hard

it is ever so clear

Comfort is not essential

for a good life…

 

The dam that breaks

then sends the flood

is clearly essential 

to cleanse the strife…

 

When day falls hard 

and doubt whispers loudly

Truth and tenderness is essential

for growth in this life…

 

 

 

Fear and Faith

man walking on the empty street

Photo by Alex Fu

Even in the darkness I cannot hide from you…

When my fear whispers that I will not be able to cope

that I will never make it out of this hole…

Faith tells me my Father knows what I need

The Father who keeps filling me with his strength

and just in time He supplies all the Holy Light

that I need to battle through this dark night…

I raise my head from my prayer and I see Jesus kneeling there 

The Light of the world has prevailed and no earthly power can keep me from His care…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inner City Poet

photography of person walking on road

Photo by Leo Cardelli

I heard a story ’bout a poet who gave himself away

The inner city was his canvas with no color in his dreams

He was a wanderin’ grifter but no one knows for sure

It is said he still wanders ’round downtown at local bars

 

This City is a hard place and it stings when North winds blow

It shows no mercy to the poor child with no where else to go

I heard a story ’bout a poet who sang his songs for all the lost

Then he set himself on fire to warm them from the chillin’ frost

 

The  children who roam the Night Streets tell the story of a man

called the Inner City Poet who comes each night to tuck them in

Inside their cardboard boxes they lay there heads upon the ground

and the wanderer sings them lullabies ’til morning comes around

The River of Mercy (the infinite flow of God’s Grace)

woman on body of water

Photo by Daria Sannikova

We lost all of the image of God when we were found  outside of His Holiness. We are born rationalizers, barterers and liars.   Yes we are all created in His image just as he says but Sin’s first act shattered that mirror image inside of us, at least until such a time as we receive the Power of the Cross of Jesus to regenerate us, to rebirth us from our darkness into His perfect light!

It doesn’t take much to look around us and see these powerful tools of the deception of Sin.

  • Rationalizing our need for redemption and need for God By using our intellectual achievement or even our good morals or religion.
  • Bartering  with The Holy as if He could be bought with our arrogant rhetoric of being self-sufficient, mantras of our feeble idolatry of self love, celebrity, money, or even good deeds.
  • Liars- we are all in darkness and deceived by our own Sin some even professing a form of godliness but do not Honor God as our Lord, not do we give Him thanks.

 

Sounds bleak doesn’t it? However, we have been given The Good News. We have been given infinite Grace flowing in the River of Mercy so that we might repent and obey to be Reborn into the Image of God in all His Goodness and power!

I am learning that the River gets deeper not shallow the further down stream I go. I am depending and counting on the fact I have been born again by the Blood of Jesus Christ and I have nothing to offer Him and  never did but here is the beauty of the Truth of God’s plan to bring us back to Him in every way… The beauty of The Gospel is this: His love and Grace and all that implies is freely given to all who will receive it.

 

I have seen the River of Life and Mercy

A crystal clear river flowing from the throne of God and the Lamb

All who come to this river will be clean and whole

All burdens washed away, no more sorrows, tears, or death…

Revelation 22

Lose It

 

man and woman boat rowing in sea during golden hour

Photo by Sebastian Voortman

They were each alone and tired of talking.

She remembered when she thought she told the Truth.

Then she grew up and knew it an impossibility for the corruptible man.

Yet their longing made them bolder and  knit them together.

It is a risk you choose, even if it means you lose everything else.

Like The Master said, “you must lose your life to save it.”

 

 

You mistook my illness as my identity

silhouette of bird above clouds

Photo by Flo Maderebner

 

You may think you know me but you best beware,

 I am stronger than any thing so You best take care

You mistook my illness as my identity

but the Healer came to me and set my spirit free!

 

I won’t run from haters or keep quiet your lies

The Spirit teaches  me the Truth and why

You mistook my smallness as fragility

But my Maker gave Eagle’s wings to me!

 

I soar, I speak up, and I tell the Truth,

lies make you sick and bitterness takes root

Your Pharisee bondage is a con artist scam

I will listen and obey the great I AM!