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TEMPTATION

5 Aug

 

“There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.”     1 Corinthians 10:13

 

I gasp for air,

Shock electrifying my thoughts,

I have just seen the demon,

That torments my life.

 

Its reflection glanced past in a window glass,

And then another, and another.

I’m surrounded by the reality of it.

 

Can I pull free of the very evil that draws so near?

Do I have the strength to push away 

The sin that feeds it?

 

I search my eyes in a mirror,

The demons stares back.

 

Come Holy Spirit and chase away,

The darkness that tries to hide within.

 

Be gone temptation, 

Back to the recesses of time,

That I will sin no more.

 

 

 

Written 2-6-2002

STONES OF FIRE

28 Jul

When I heard of the Stones of Fire I prayed, “Lord, what are they?”

He said, “They are the tears of God.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, “teach me, Lord.”

 

Stones of fire,

colors so vibrant,

the intensity of God’s Spirit,

fighting to escape the stone’s housing,

yet trapped there,

to please the eye,

of all who gaze.

 

He placed His throne,

and rested his feet,

upon brilliant Sapphire,

purged with fire and time,

blue as the deepest sea,

vast as the clearest sky;

this was the third Heaven.

 

As a lover gives his beloved,

or a father gives his child,

a most precious gift,

God gave His treasure,

a city built upon,

the stones of fire.

 

In His richness He gave all beauty,

to make a sacred court.

 

The foundations of the city,

were of the purest stone,

of Jasper, Sapphire and Chalcedony,

Emerald, Sardonyx and Sardius,

Chrysolite, Beryl and Topaz,

Chrysoprasus, Jacinth and Amethyst.

 

Twelve foundations,

for twelve children to come,

soon to be nations,

then kings and priests.

 

Children to be raised,

in a perfect Eden,

guarded by angels,

perfection at every glance,

ruler of all they could see.

 

Yet, in the third Heaven,

where archangels commune with God,

and gold paves the streets,

as pure as crystal glass,

a cry was heard,

as God shed a tear.

 

The third Heaven wasn’t enough,

for Lucifer.

 

He was the most perfect creation,

to ever walk in the Heavens of God.

He was the most beautiful of all angels,

adorned in the precious stones,

that Heaven was founded on.

 

His voice sang the arias,

as an orchestra,

he was the most anointed,

the most wise,

until his beauty,

beguiled his own heart,

and iniquity became his god.

 

Refusing to serve,

demanding the highest kingdom,

Lucifer fell,

cast from the splendor of Heaven,

pulled down by the weight,

cursed with the fire,

that charged the beauty,

of the precious stones,

he proudly wore.

 

Down in a wilderness,

walked 12 nations,

trying to purge their lives,

of desire and deceit.

 

Set over an Ephod,

secured to the Breastplate,

carried on the shoulders,

of the High Priest,

were 12 stones.

Each stone for a nation,

in four rows of three,

according to their birth.

 

On the top was the Sardius, Topaz and Carbuncle,

then was the Emerald, Sapphire and Diamond,

next was the Ligure, Agate and Amethyst,

last was the Beryl, Onyx and Jasper,

held at the top and the sides,

by pure gold.

 

Once again God’s pride,

was adorned by His precious gift.

All seemed well until the days,

man’s faith-filled leader,

took time with God.

 

And in their time,

of precious communion,

the Ephod was laid aside,

as the nations of promise,

build a golden glistening calf,

they could see.

 

Moses heard the cry,

as God shed a tear.

 

Jealousy raged,

in the vibrant foundations,

of Heaven.

 

And Moses cried out,

for the souls of the lost,

as iniquity reigned once again,

in the earth.

 

Stones of fire,

shown again,

in the crowns of the kings,

that ruled over the nations.

Crowns of the righteous,

killed by the crowns of the wicked,

coveting the beauty,

of the precious glowing stones.

 

Then, in that last day,

as the Mystery Babylon,

walks the corrupted streets,

of earth,

no one will buy her merchandise.

Not the gold or silver,

precious stones or fine linen,

not the horses, chariots or slaves,

not the souls of men.

 

Finally the nations will see,

that the soul cannot share,

the beauty meant for the eye.

Beauty meant to be enjoyed,

to enhance,

to appreciate.

 

The stones of fire,

a wedding gift,

from the God of creation,

changed into a god,

by the lusts of man.

Gazing on their fiery beauty,

we wonder at the value,

the prestige,

and forget the covenant of love,

for which they stand.

 

The birth of a child,

the birth of a nation,

a covenant of love,

sealed by the signet,

of a fiery stone.

 

A marriage of two people,

two nations,

two entities;

destined to find perfection,

in the confines of Heaven.

 

So they wait,

undefiled,

in the third Heaven,

where angels and cherubim,

commune with,

the one true God.

 

 

Written 12/6/98

LADY IN WAITING

14 Jul


I’m resting, Lord,

here in Your shadow.

Wars wage at my right,

and along my left.

Famine and failure,

torture, 

even the most strong fear,

but I’m safe here,

beneath Your wing.



I know the paths around me,

are tainted with sin,

that dangers lurk,

at every turn,

but I fear not.



You, Lord, have sent angels,

to guide my path,

to set my feet, 

one in front of the other,

straight ahead,

not to the right,

not to the left.



I have placed my feet, 

in faith,

knowing You have set,

a safe path,

before me.



I have listened carefully,

for Your call,

I have trimmed the wicks,

and replenished the oil,

for the night watch.

For the time when,

My Beloved may call.



I practice my stitching,

in purple and red,

as I wait.

Keeping my mind flooded,

with the constant blessing,

my Lord has bestowed,

upon me.



Delicate, sure, stitches,

adorn the robe,

my Lord will wear,

when the day is come.

Each placed with a prayer,

each outlining a blessing,

each anointed,

with the tongues of angels.



I wait at Your feet,

precious one,

as the night passes once again.

Catching a glimpse of You,

a glancing touch,

bringing such peace,

strengthening my desire.



I wait, with the gifts of my hand,

gifts of my heart,

gifts of my tongue.

I wait, for the day You will call,

and draw me to Your chamber,

to share in the riches,

kept deep inside.



The wait seems long,

but holds no burden,

only the treasure,

of promises seen,

and promises known,

and truths only realized,

by lovers.



I wait for the day,

You will come to my chamber,

and raise my hand,

to a delicate kiss.

There will we dance,

for the joy, 

and the treasure,

held in intimate bonds,

of true love.



Until that day,

My Beloved,

My Lord,

I will wait,

and prepare,

and rest,

that I might not miss,

one moment with You.


Written 4-22-99

INFERNO

7 Jul

That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ:   -1 Peter 1:7


Here I stand,

Safe in the hand of God,

Kissed by a gentle breeze,

Cooled by the living water,

Of the Spirit.


All around me rages an inferno,

To my right, to my left,

Directly in my path.


The bowels of hell,

Threatening death,

Always testing my faith,

But held away,

By my closest friend, my savior.


Here I stand,

And here I will stay,

Until I hear the voice of God,

Directing my steps,

To reach the lost,

With His precious love.

 

 

Written 11-10-2000

Jerusalem Lieth Waste

30 Jun

Nehemiah 1 – 2 – 3

Jerusalem lieth waste,
Her children are scattered,
Her children’s children wander aimlessly,
Searching for any sign of hope.

The fountains have lost their beauty,
The waters are bitter.

The walls of the city have no gates,
Where the gates once were, there are no doors,
All have fallen away,
None have taken the time to restore and repair.

Into the valley they travel,
Past the dunghill, the remnant of past life,
Past the pool where the animals find rest.

Between two mountains they are tossed about,
A mountain of good, secure but foreign;
A mountain of evil, exciting and lurid.

In the valley they wait,
Walking to and fro, from mountain to mountain,
Tasting of the ambiance of each,
Looking for one who will care enough,
To restore them.

At the walls stand a handful of Saints,
Each trying to decide whether to help,
Or to let others live as they will.

Should they reach out to another’s child,
Chance the rebuke and scorn,
Can they make a difference,
Or become a passing trend,
Soon forgotten.

Rebuilding the walls will take so much time,
Establishing the gates difficult,
Placing doors means people to watch them,
People that discern good and evil,
People of integrity that will not compromise.

Jerusalem lieth waste,
Her children’s children have not been taught,
Her children’s children’s wounds have not been tended,
Her children’s children wander aimlessly,
Searching for hope.

A handful of Saints make a decision,
This restoration will take many years,
This restoration will be painful,
This restoration will make a difference,
This restoration will set a standard.

I pick up the first stone and set it in place,
Then another and another,
I hear the laughter and the scorn,
It feeds my intensity.

As the walls strengthen and the doors are set,
The children wander back;
They find security, soundness, protection;
They find safety, boundaries, goals;
They find hope,
They find peace.

 

Written 2-7-2001

The Day The Angels Cried – Reposting

11 Sep

Twin Towers 9-11-2001

 

“And Jesus answered him, The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord: [30] And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. [31] And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.”           Mark 12:29-31

September 11th, 2001 will be one of those dates that no one will forget. It has engraved its importance upon our spirits and hangs heavy in our memory. September 11th, 2001 was the day the angels cried.

No one will forget the horror of the airplanes bursting through the tower walls of the world trade center, or the empty helplessness of watching the men and women falling the 80 to 90 stories to the ground. We felt hope as we watched the fire, police and rescue personnel head into the chaos and devastation when the towers swallowed them up.

When we saw the 110-story towers implode and disintegrate into powdery dust, dust made from concrete and glass, snowing down in a suffocating blizzard, we were there. Who the dust covered people were wasn’t important. The race, creed or color of the person wasn’t important. They were life – that was important. They were family – brothers and sisters who’s names we may never know, who’s stories we may never hear, but they were family – tied to us by the horror of the breach of freedom we so generously share.

America. A country so tender that we sat for hours glued to a TV screen and prayed, encouraged and cheered when rescue workers freed baby Jessica McClure from an abandoned well. A country so generous that we open our arms to the thousands of immigrants who cross our borders every year – providing them food, shelter, medical care and education. A country so strong that after wars and conflicts, we have been able to return home and raise our families with humility and a sense of forgiveness and peace. A blessed country, graciously blessing others. A country betrayed.

America. The tenderness and generosity grievously stunned by such a horrific act. America. Attacked strategically to destroy our economy and military intelligence – but rising up to recognize that in the moments of tragedy only one thing mattered – life and the preservation of it.

Helplessly scattered across the nation, we reached out with truckloads of food, clothing and medical supplies. We donated money from our household budgets to send to the Red Cross and Salvation Army who tended the victims and the rescue workers. We stood hours in line to give blood to send to the hospitals near ground zero. We mourn the deaths, rejoice with the miracles, encourage the jobless – and we pray. When we could do no more, we sat and watched the live news, for hours, days, weeks, and prayed; even still – we pray.

The probability of life in the wreckage is no longer. The fires that have burned in the stories of the crushed building for weeks send eerie symbolism of the bowels of Hell. Satan came down to destroy a country built on the premise of the Bible and dedicated to God, but he failed. What Satan has done to destroy America, God has turned around and created a new and wonderful understanding of what America is. God brought back to us the very foundations that this country was birthed on. God united the people and told the world that we are ONE. One people, one race, one color, one family – one AMERICA.

We will never forget the thousands entombed in the death of that majestic building – just as we have never forgotten the sailors entombed in the USS Arizona. In time we will forgive the misguided souls that did this – but we will never forget. Life will go on with some changes, but nothing that we, as individuals and as a nation, cannot overcome.

Since that day, the American people have been a little quieter; introspective. Mothers and fathers hold their children a little closer, holding their hands when they’re in public. Trivial things don’t matter any more. People don’t squabble in line at the grocery stores. Traffic is reduced, only traveling if necessary. The malls, restaurants and theatres are nearly empty where they used to be overflowing. People work less hours and spend more time with their families. We have become more aware of the treasures of life, and less caught up in the luxury available. We have re-established contact with distant family and old friends. Families are going back to church and re-establishing their relationship with their creator. People are more aware of the things around them and how very precious they are.

Satan took away the lives of 6000+ members of our family – and God showed us the way back to the true meaning of life. America – the land of the free, the home of the brave – family bound together by God. Victorious.

Many families now are seeing their children off to a war in a land where life has no meaning. A land where poverty is overwhelming and need is so great. A land where one man has orchestrated a gross evil that has marred their world. Some of our families are sending their children to an ultimate sacrifice, to ensure that our country is once again safe.

Jesus, grant us the grace to see you at every turn, no matter what the daily outcome seems. Jesus, build our faith with each passing moment. And Jesus, give us the strength to forgive, and the power to overcome.

 

10-13-2001

There You Are Jesus!

19 Jul

Look up to Heaven - Universal Church of the Kingdom of God

“I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.” Galatians 2:20

What happens when innocence is lost?  Like a fresh new flower, ripped from the plant, first we wilt, then harden, then we crumble and are blown away.

I love movies, especially children’s movies.  One of my favorite is Peter Pan, the version where Robin Williams plays Peter.  At the beginning of the movie, he doesn’t realize that he’s Peter.  He’s lost his innocence.  He’d lost touch with what things in life are truly important.  He believes the tale of Peter Pan is something made up and passed down in stories from generation to generation.

Movies, as they are, overlook the logical (that’s what I love about them) and Robin Williams ends up in Neverland with the Lost Boys.  The Lost Boys try desperately to convince him of who he is and teach him how to be a child again.  Everything in Neverland is completely dependent upon imagination.  They wouldn’t even have food, drink or sustenance without a good, active imagination.

The Lost Boys are finally successful at helping Peter find his innocence again and let go of the stresses and frustrations of schedules, bills and responsibilities of the real world.  At one point in the movie, one of the Lost Boys walks up to Robin Williams, looks deep into his eyes and says, “Oh, there you are Peter.”  A revelation of innocence returned.

This sequence always reminds me of my Christian faith.  So many times we’re caught up in the stress and frustrations of schedules and appointments and trying to please so many in so little time, that we loose the miracle and the innocence of working in ministry.  Our innocence is dependent upon our faith.  Sometimes we allow the enemy to convince us that by striving we work the good work, when in fact, it is by faith and the leading of the Holy Spirit that we accomplish everything that God has called us to do; without the loss of innocence.

I look hopefully to the time when I can casually enjoy all of those around me, without worrying about where I should be, lest I fall behind (again!!).  I look forward to the day when I will be filled with faith to the point of complete peace and serenity.  When someone, perhaps a child, will look deep into my eyes and say, “Oh, there you are Jesus.”  When the Jesus in me will shine past my many earthly flaws.

Jesus, may I always hear and obey your voice.  That the innocence, birthed in faith, will always be the most obvious attribute in my life.

** Moments With The Master

By Linda J. Humes

Written 7/16/2000

The Phenomena of the American “Christian”

18 Jul

Church clip art

  For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.  For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.  John 3:16-17 

My husband and I made the decision to become foster parents.  After a year of classes and paperwork, we were blessed with two little boys, which we were allowed to adopt four years later.  To say we have been blessed by our decision is an understatement, although it has not always been easy.

When we brought these boys into our lives, we were extremely involved in church, choir, teaching, Bible study, helps and various other church activities.  The boys were thrust into a culture they never knew existed.  Being church “staff kids” meant they often spend 10 to 12 hours a day at the church in different aspects of school and ministry.  They received a “crash course” in Christianity and were excited to share this delight with the world.

It was not uncommon for them to stop perfect strangers and ask questions or give lectures of the values of “keeping the temple clean” (no smoking, drinking or drugs) (1 Corinthians 6:19-20).  Being lectured by a 3-year-old or a 5-year-old on what harm certain substances can do to your body can be amusing, irritating, condemning or all three.  Going to the grocery store or drug store was always an adventure.  Restaurants were unpredictable – they knew they had a captive audience; the waiter or waitress.

We never knew when or what they were going to say.  They held a boldness I never had when it came to their faith.  The amazing thing is, that with their wide-eyed innocence, people always answered.  That is what this is all about.  Not about the innocent questioning, it’s about the answers.

I had read that Americans consider themselves to be Christians, simply because they are Americans!  Several people responded in just that manner – “sure, I’m a Christian – I’m an American!”  but, when pinned down about which church they attended – they didn’t.  When they did, it was for Christmas, Easter and Weddings.

One young man said that he wasn’t a Christian, his mom was.  He said he was a Christian once, but he quit going to church.  He knew he needed to start going back, but he was busy.  Sunday was his sleep-in day.

One young man said he wasn’t a Christian, he was a Baptist!  And several LDS said they were Christians, even though they don’t believe Jesus is the son of God.

We met several people who were obviously into New Age, but believed they were Christians.  We even knew of people who claimed to be “white witches” who felt they were Christians.  People who attend church on Sunday and read horoscopes every day of the week.  People who pray at bedtime and call psychics during the day.  It’s the phenomena of the American “Christian.”

I, myself, spent several years in a denominational church and was never encouraged to read the Bible (2 Timothy 2:15), never told that horoscopes were forbidden (Isaiah 47:13-14), or that psychics were cursed (Leviticus 20:21).  I didn’t know “white” witchcraft was “witchcraft” trying to make itself look “good” instead of “evil” (Deuteronomy 18:10-12).  I have prayed many, many hours over this phenomena.  What is the answer?

The word of the Lord came to me “Then saith he unto his disciples, The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few; [38] Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest” (Matthew 9:37-38).  The mission field begins in our own home.  The mission field is at our front door.

Because America does not have to fight to have freedom of religion, the people don’t understand what true Christianity is.  In those countries where they lay down their lives for an hour a week to gather together in prayer and Bible study – you can believe they understand.  We dwell in a country where we know a little bit about everything – but very few know a lot about any one particular thing; especially, it seems, pure Christianity.

We, the Church, have allowed confusion, distraction, and laziness to enter into the message we were sent to share (Galatians 1:6-8).  It crept in, ever so quietly, and took its place among the once dedicated.  Now we are sent to search it out.

There in the curiosity of my two children dwelt an answer.  Where I had been content for someone to verify they were a Christian, now I knew the mission was to make sure that they knew what Christianity was and how to come to the saving grace of Christ.  It is each of our jobs to steer the confused from horoscopes to scriptures – from psychics to Jesus.

Jesus, let me always be mindful of the enemy we battle and the subtle ways he perverts the truth.  Let me not be pacified with quick answers that may leave a soul, believing they are walking righteously, in the hands of an evil curse.  Let me speak up, at my own discomfort, to bring that little lost sheep back home.

Daughter of Zion

11 Jul

 

woman-bowing-down-prayer

Micah 4:8-10  And thou, O tower of the flock, the strong hold of the daughter of Zion, unto thee shall it come, even the first dominion; the kingdom shall come to the daughter of Jerusalem. [9] Now why dost thou cry out aloud? is there no king in thee? is thy counsellor perished? for pangs have taken thee as a woman in travail. [10] Be in pain, and labour to bring forth, O daughter of Zion, like a woman in travail: for now shalt thou go forth out of the city, and thou shalt dwell in the field, and thou shalt go even to Babylon; there shalt thou be delivered; there the Lord shall redeem thee from the hand of thine enemies. . . . . [13]  Arise and thresh, O daughter of Zion: for I will make thine horn iron, and I will make thy hoofs brass: and thou shalt beat in pieces many people: and I will consecrate their gain unto the Lord, and their substance unto the Lord of the whole earth.

 

Why do you weep,

Daughter of Zion?

Have you forgotten who you are?

At the hem of your garment,

Cling the children of Israel,

Dare they see your tears?

 

Why do you cry out,

Daughter of Zion?

Your voice was created,

To put your enemy,

In his place,

Beneath your feet,

Far from the children,

You protect.

 

Let your tears be saved,

For intercession,

And your crying out,

To birth a new mission,

That your children,

Will take forth.

 

Forget not that you are birthed,

Of royalty.

A king and a priest.

Stand your station,

And raise your head high.

 

Forget not that you were birthed,

To counsel.

Prepared to call forth,

The promises and armies,

Of God.

 

Reclaim the territory,

Stolen by the enemy,

The cities and the lands,

That once were a testimony,

To the One true God.

 

Stand in faith,

And watch the evil,

Slither away,

As the hand of the Lord,

Forbids its sting.

 

Stand up,

Daughter of Zion,

With dignity

And righteous pride,

For what is yours.

 

Don’t let the momentary pain,

The enemy has wrought,

Overcome the truth,

Of who you are.

 

Stand up,

Daughter of Zion.

For into your hand,

Have I placed the hope,

Of the Nations.

 

Stand Up!

 

 

FRESH BEGINNINGS

20 Mar

coffee cup and hands

A Song of degrees.  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. [2] My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

I love my morning cup of coffee.  Nothing fluffy or sweet or blended, just fresh ground, brewed coffee.  I claimed it as my last vice, until recently that is.

Having food allergies, all of my fun food was disappearing – one item at a time (bummer).  People were always curious at my unusual diet and would inquire at my ability to stick with it.  “It’s easy,” I’d reply, “I still have my morning coffee to look forward to.”

Well!  Pride goes before the fall and it wasn’t too long after that the doctor removed my coffee.  I pled, rationalized and begged – to no avail.  Coffee was out!

I went before the Lord and “Pitched a Fit.”  I’m so grateful that my Jesus is patient and understanding of me.  “What is it that you so enjoy about your cup of coffee,” He asked me.

“The aroma,” I said.  “The feel of the warm cup nestled between my hands.  The minutes I get to blow a cooling breath across the top while sipping the robust drink.  The moments I get alone, enjoying the morning and reflecting on the goodness of God.”

A smile touched my lips and my sorrow faded.  It wasn’t the cup of coffee I missed – it was the fellowship and tender times with God that I was afraid of losing.  The aroma of a fresh morning, the grass wet with dew.  The warmth inside that He spreads, from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet.  The cooling breath of God as a breeze caresses my cheek.  Sipping of His goodness – if only for a few minutes before my day begins.

Lord, let me never loose touch with what the true meaning is, of everything I do.  Let me release the ritual and enter directly into your presence – with praise and thanksgiving and joy.