The Music of Life

7 Feb

 

music of nature

“For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”      Isaiah 55:12 (KJV)

I recently watched a movie called August Rush.  It was a delightful story about a young boy, given up to an orphanage as a newborn, who grew up in the orphanage hoping and believing that one day he would find his parents.

The unique thing about this young boy was that he could hear the music of life.  Everywhere he was he heard music; the music of the tree leaves moving in the wind, the music of the grass in a breeze, the music of the water in a brook, the music of a fan turning, the sound of a bus starting and braking in traffic, the cars moving in rhythm to the traffic lights; music – everywhere.  I thought I was the only one!!

I have a difficult time keeping track of the time of day.  I surround myself with clocks to help me stay on task.  Each clock has its own unique tick and movement.  As I sit here writing, there is a beautiful clock above my monitor, pink roses surrounding the numbers, making a loud rhythmic sound.  I can hear music in my head that encompasses that beat and enhances that tick.  Not a song that I’ve heard before, or one that can be sung, but a tune to be hummed and explored.

Outside there is an explosion of music.  I live far out of town and the birds, each species, has their own distinct sound, pitch and rhythm when they call, fly or perch.  The insects have their own sound (especially the mosquitos).  Walking on the ground has its own sound.  The beat and tone of a gentle rain, and the loud and specific crash of heavy rain.  The sound and beat of the waves hitting the shore, some peaceful and gentle, while others loud and angry.  The crisp and shocking sound of thunder.  The light tapping of the hens pecking at their food and the smooth hum of a generator running in the distance.  It all has its own sound.  The wind, gentle or at gale force, has a specific and unique sound, rising and falling, rising and falling.  All of these sounds blend together into a wonderful symphony of musicians calling to God with their joy, exclaiming His glory!

God made everything to sing its own story to everyone and everything around.

Thou crownest the year with thy goodness; and thy paths drop fatness.  They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness: and the little hills rejoice on every side.  The pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also are covered over with corn; they shout for joy, they also sing.   Psalm 65:11-13

God used some of those songs to bring joy to us, His children.

The words of a man’s mouth are deep waters; the fountain of wisdom is a bubbling brook.   Proverbs 18:4

God also uses these sounds and songs to warn His people of danger or when to wait for His signal before going forward.

And let it be, when thou hearest the sound of a going in the tops of the mulberry trees, that then thou shalt bestir thyself: for then shall the LORD go out before thee, to smite the host of the Philistines.   2 Samuel 5:24

He made a complex and intricate rhythm to every aspect of earth and man, creating a beautiful and perfect harmon, if we would only spend time listening.  Listening, something we take so little time to do, especially if it doesn’t advance forward our day.  Listening, not just hearing, not just being present – Listening.

God gave us this amazing and miraculous life filled with music and beauty and wonderful other people.  He could force us to slow down and listen, but it would not hold the incredible enjoyment of experiencing it out of true worship.

Let the floods clap their hands: let the hills be joyful together.   Psalm 98:8

I challenge you to turn off the noise and listen for the music.  Walk outside in the early morning or late night and listen to the birds and insects singing.  The trees will rustle in the cool breeze.  There will be a rhythm of the vehicles traveling nearby.  Footsteps on a walk will have a beat all of their own; unique.  Your own heartbeat and breathing pattern sings in unison with each other.  Can you hear it?  Even when we don’t listen, they sing.  They offer up their worship to God when they are being completely ignored by everyone on earth.  They sing, in their own special sound, their own special beat, their own special pitch; they sing.  It is time to join them.  Sing!

Thank you God for allowing us to hear the perfect music created by and dedicated to You.  Help us to hear this, Your wonderful and excellent gift.

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The Effects of Our Consequences

30 Jan

Dominoes

“And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it.  Now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular.” 1 Corinthians 12:26-27 (KJV)

Behavior – Consequence – Effect

We make choices every day; good choices, bad choices, inconsequential choices – just choices, or so we think.  “I’ll do what I want, it’s my life.”  I’ll do what I want, it’s my body.” It is your life, it is your body, but it is not a separate and disconnected entity.

Drugs, alcohol, sex, violence, thrill seeking, the momentary pleasures that grasp a life and start a domino chain of destruction that spider webs into the lives of countless people you never even consider.  Then there’s suicide, the final decision a person makes that they feel will end the pain in their life, and in that moment of final silence, it devastates tens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of people.

Choices.  Addictions.  What happens to the person caught in the addiction trap?  At first it may be fun, pleasurable, then consuming, overwhelming, controlling, and then . . . . . our choices lead to consequences.

People begin to avoid you, your work product begins to fail, if you ever get up and go into work.  Your family, as much as they love you, begins to avoid you.  Spouses leave, keeping you from being with your children.  Your friends, who have always been there for you, refuse to talk to you.  Those who completely trusted you are no longer there.  The respect you had earned disappeared.  Still you spiral down and down and it’s everyone else’s fault, so you say.

If you are fortunate enough to be stopped by law enforcement and given the chance to get clean of those addiction, given another chance at life, given another chance of proving you can be that original amazing person, it will take years.  Years incarcerated, years working twice as hard as others to earn back the trust, the respect, the joy of reuniting with friends and family.

As you fight to regain back what you once had, do you see the effects of your consequences on others?  Do you recognize the emotional battle your family and friends fought as they watched you fail, struggle, grow, fail, struggle, grow?  Do you see their tears and the guilt they feel, wondering if there was something that they could have done to have kept it all from happening?  Do you see the money and time and emotion spent every month to be sure that you have a way to stay in touch and have a few treats.  Do you recognize the nights they spend in prayer and tears, hoping and believing that when this part of your journey has completed that you will find your restoration and not be tempted to give up the struggle to fight back to wholeness and fall back into the temptation of an old lifestyle.

I suspect that you may recognize the consequences of your behaviors, but have you taken the time to understand the wide spread effects of your consequences on so very many others?  Family.  Friends. The kid next door.  Co-workers.  Police Officers.  EMTS.  Nurses.  Prison Guards.  The person who found you near death, or worse, dead.  The person you hurt in a violent rage.  The person you killed in a car accident you don’t even remember having.  The person you stole a precious family heirloom from, to sell for that next “fix.”  The person you pulled into you addiction whose life is following your same path now.

Please hear my heart, in love.  Lord please let my words change the path of someone, many someones, who do not recognize what the consequences of their actions could be, and what the effects of those circumstances will be.  Turn them back.

Behavior  –  Consequence  –  Effect

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2016 – A Year of Hope

2 Jan

A lot of folks are setting out their New Year’s Resolutions for 2016.  I can’t remember ever doing that.  I suppose it’s because I didn’t want to make a statement that I really didn’t think I had any means of fulfilling, and I didn’t want to feel guilty for the rest of the year for letting myself (and the whole great big world) down for not making the grade.  *sigh*  Too much pressure.

I have decided, instead, to make a 2016 prayer and set God to the task.  I will do my best to re-pray these words every day of the year.  And I will share these words with you so that you can, if you are in agreement, meet me in this prayer and raise it up to Heaven as a sweet incense.

Dear God, I come before You today in full humbleness of heart for my country, my state, my family, my friends and for myself.  I pray that You will lead each and every one of us in the sure and true path that You have laid before us before time began.  I pray that You will draw us ever nearer to You, that we may hear Your heartbeat over everyone and everything around us.  I pray that You will sit in sweet friendship, nearer even more than that, that we can feel Your very desires and hear Your precious voice over everything that You have love for.

God, let us be Your hands and feet to the nation of hurting and homeless people.  Let us be Your eyes and hears to find those who remain hidden; spiritually, emotionally, physically and relationally. Let us love, without condemnation or disdain, those unlovely souls who are lost in this big world. Let us feel the pain and share the compassion for those who have given up on life and would rather hide in homelessness than struggle to try to fit in.  Let us feed the spiritual, emotional and physical side of all of those who struggle – the rich, the hard working average person, the poverty stricken person, and the homeless person, without judging, or criticizing or instructing them by our own personal experiences, but let us see inside the nights of tears that they have lived when nobody else saw.

God, helps us to always remember those soldiers who stand and protect everything that we have, bathed in freedom.  From the commissary clerk on a stateside base to the soldier sleeping in a sandy trench in unbearable heat.  From the front desk attendant in a military hospital, to the medics pulling pieces of people together in an attempt to save a life they already know has ebbed away.  Help us to pray fervently for the dreams and fears and recurring nightmares that will follow them every day of their lives.  Help us to remember that the pain of the war does not go away when their heads rest softly in their home with their family, but flavors and taints every moment of their lives and their families lives from that day on.  God help us to help them find grace for themselves, for their physical enemies, for their spiritual enemy, and for their future.  Help us to remember to pray for them to forgive themselves for not being able to save everyone, but to be forever grateful for those who’s life they were able to bring back home alive.

God help us to remember to pray, every day, for those who are in control of our cities, our counties, our states and most of all, our nations.  We become angry and disolutioned at any chance of our country becoming the God-loving nation that was founded so many years ago.  But You God . . . . You are in control of all things.  You have the power to change people’s minds.  You have the power to remove people and place people and to change the direction of a decision with just a whisper.  You know the future and the things that have been set in place to change the attitude of a nation of people.  God use us to pray in that change.  Please use us to help set the atmosphere of things that are to come.

God, no matter what we think of the people who make the decisions that impacts our nation, state, county or city, help us to remember that You allowed them to be placed in the position that they are in.  You watch as they use their free will to test and push against what You have ordained.  We must stand in the gap, to direct those people toward the path that You have placed in front of them.  Please give us the strength to rise above our opinions and our frustrations and our anger at what we perceive as coming, and trust in what you have placed in our future, if we will strive to pray it in.

God, most of all, please work on me.  Please set my feet on the correct path.  Let me speak with love and humility.  Let me share of everything I have with those who have less.  Let me share of my food, my home, my heart, my mind and my compassion.  Let me help to bring someone up to walk in the path behind me, and help me to teach them to raise someone up to follow after them.  Let us be the soldiers in this spiritual war, that is set all around us, and stand strong on the promises written in Your Word, unwavering.  Let us be prepared to be the Jesus to a falling nation, willing to give up our lives for the truth.

I am here God, use me.

May God Richly Bless You All,

Linda J. Humes

 

My Brother, My Friend

17 Nov

 

zebra finch

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down

his life for his friends.”      John 15:13 KJV

I have three small finches.  All three are of a different variety.  They have nothing in common, except a bright white cage and the normal amenities.  Bandit has a red mask across his eyes, Speckle is dark brown with a tan chest and brown speckles, Tangerine has a bright orange beak and legs.  They were put together over different times and took turns getting used to each other.

On a normal day they disagree and sit as far apart as they can, tolerating the sharing of their space.  But, sometimes the abnormal happens.  On occasion Speckle will lay on the bottom of the cage and shudder.  He’s unable to move one leg.  He will fly if startled, but must lean against something to stay upright.  He does this by gripping and balancing with one leg while pushing against a tray, bar or basket.

This will go on for days and, as unusual as it seems, it is not the truly amazing part.  What is truly amazing is that when he’s on the bottom of the cage, shaking and shuddering, one of the others will sit against him, crying out, while the other flies around the cage, screaming and shrieking.  At night, when I check on them, all three will be on the branch, one on either side of the ailing bird, propping him in place so that he can sleep in comfort and safety.

They are so protective and caring of the hurting friend that they take risks that they would not generally take.  Several times I have reached into the cage to stroke Speckle, to pray for him, to hold him.  The other two would sit right with him until I was close enough to touch him, then they would fly off until I removed my hand.  Immediately they would return to their vigil.  After a few days Speckle appears normal again and they all go back to “status quo”, fussing with each other and keeping their distance.

So often I see people tolerating each other, but not pull in to the troubled and hurting friend.  We call each other brother, we call each other friend, but choose to be busy if we think there is the slightest possibility that our emotions may get caught up in another brother’s pain.

Shame on us, Lord, if we fail to have the love and compassion of a handful of caged finches.  If I call you brother, if I call you friend, then I pray for the compassion to sit with you when you hurt, to cry out for help to carry on, and for the strength to hold you up until you are strong enough to stand alone once again   –   as often as you need me.

 

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In The Gap

13 Nov

 

Angel with Censer

“And he stood between the dead and the living;

and the plague was stayed.”     Numbers 16:48

—-

I stand in the summer of my life,

weighing and balancing

yesterday and tomorrow.

—-

I have made a choice,

I have taken my stand

  on the firm foundation of truth.

—-

Yesterday’s worldly decisions haunt and torment me,

calling out from behind the veil of blood,

that separates me from a deadly past.

—-

The Spirit of God allows me to remember,

Burdening my heart for the souls left behind.

My eyes don’t want to see them,

my ears don’t want to hear them,

for what they are,

I once was.

—-

But the Spirit calls me to them,

to pray.

—-

I fill my censer with sweet incense,

   lighting the fragrance from the fire

 of the altar of sacrifice.

—-

I step into the land of giants,

  the essence of God in my hand,

the words of God in my mouth.

—-

My soul trembles, my heart breaks,

as I look into the empty, hollow eyes

of the children.

—-

 Who will help them to choose?

—-

There to the right is the goodness of God.

There is mercy and grace,

peace and rest.

—-

  This is the life I have chosen to share.

There at the left are the quick and simple pleasures,

received at a price,

packaged so elegantly, temptingly, deceivingly.

—-

Snares so easily fallen into.

My prayers cry out,

praying the lost away from temptation.

—-

My testimony gives them hope,

  I am proof that there is a way out.

The fragrance of intercession

strengthens the fire in the censor.

The wings of angels gently move the aroma

through the crowd.

—-

For a moment they turn and look.

For a moment they taste the sweetness of the manna

that is laid before them.

For a moment the lure of sin is stopped.

For some it will only take that one moment

to recognize and follow the truth.

For some it may take two or three glimpses

to birth their testimony.

—-

Yet, for others, it may take moment after moment after moment

to break the generational curses

 that have trapped them on the path of destruction.

—-

There, in the fields of the land of the giants,

I lay down my life,

as a living sacrifice,

  daily standing in the gap,

  between the living and the dead.

—-

There will I stand again tomorrow,

my censer lit,

 my prayers rising up,

as a sweet sacrifice to heaven.

There, in intercession, will I stand,

turning as many eyes as the Spirit can touch,

to the right.

—-

         Believing that every seed planted will root and grow.

 Believing in the resurrecting power,

from death to life,

       that rests in the anointing.

Believing that the eternal plague can be stayed,

     by the strength of my faith.

—-

I can not stop my sacred vigil,

for the fear rests in my soul,

that in any moment of disconcert,

I might miss one child

that might have looked.

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The Evil In Man

12 Nov

Ram's Head

“The stranger that is within thee shall get up above thee very high; and thou shalt come down very low.”     Deuteronomy 28:43 (KJV)

There is a common saying, “The eyes are the window to the soul,” and it is absolutely true.  A lot can be seen spiritually and emotionally when looking intently into the eyes of another. God gives us glimpses of the depth of a person’s weakness, pain and spirit. Every once in a while God takes us a step past the eyes and He shows us the demons that torment.

I remember, so vividly, the first time I saw the demon that controlled my father.  My grandparents had come to visit and as we children went off toward bed the adults left the house.  Not long after a storm kicked up, a strong desert wind storm.

I was 9 years old; my brother would have been 7, my sister 3, and the baby just a few months old.  When the storm kicked up the electricity went off and all of us kids drew together in the bedroom that I shared with the baby.  My brother and sister huddled against the wall as I rocked the baby in the rocking chair.  Within the howling wind we heard a loud “crack” and a main branch broke off of the tree at the back of the house.  My brother and sister were crying and holding each other as I did my best to quiet the baby.

Just a short time after I heard a tapping on my bedroom window and my name being called, “Linda, Linda, open the door.”  The voice was that of my father, but when I pulled the curtain back what I saw terrified me.  Instead of my father’s face I saw the head of a Ram with glowing red eyes on a very large body of a man.  Its lips were moving as I heard my father’s voice again, angry.  “Linda, open the door.”

I screamed and ran across the room, all 4 of us huddled against the wall crying.  This repeated with my father’s voice becoming more and more agitated.  Then I heard the voice of my grandfather, “Linda, it’s grandpa, we forgot the key, open the front door and let us in.”

I ran to the window and opened the curtain.  There was the face of my grandfather, always kind and gentle.  I laid the baby in his crib and ran to the front door, unlocking it.  In came my family, drenched from the rain.  My father was still very angry that I had delayed, but the creature I had seen in the window was gone.

I don’t know why God shows us the evil inside of others.  I don’t know why we see it at some times and not others.  I don’t know why some people can see the evil and others cannot.  I don’t understand how some people can stand up to evil and quench it with a few spoken words and the voice of authority.  I don’t understand why people are drawn toward evil and wicked ways more than they are drawn to the church and the laws of God, when the true power lies in the authority of scripture and death is in the path of evil.

I really don’t understand it all, but I know it is real; I have seen it myself.  I do understand that we are called to do greater things than Jesus did in His time on earth.  I do understand the authority we are given if we will draw close to God through the power of the Holy Spirit.  I do know that we were given the ability to stand up to the sort of evil that torments a young man to the extent that he would walk into a school and kill 26 people, mostly young children.

Spiritual warfare can turn the evil before the demonic becomes so strong in a person’s life that they no longer hold life precious – their own life or the life of another.  We must fight the Spiritual battle for the souls of the hurting before the soul is eternally lost.

This generation is the generation of Spiritual Warriors.  A Warrior can only fight if they have the tools and they know how to use them.  Jesus commanded us to teach – help me to teach these Warriors who they are and what authority they can possess.  Help me to teach them to fight for the lost soul, the innocent children, and the evil that desires to destroy everything in its path.  Please, help me.

“Blessed be the LORD my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight:”   – Psalms 144:1 (KJV)

—–

Written 1-1-2013

Published 11/12/2015 – Republished 7-18-2021

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WAX MUSEUM

7 Oct

wax-museum-welcome-sign1

(THE EYES OF THE HOPELESSLY DEAD)

 The light of the body is the eye: therefore when thine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light; but when thine eye is evil, thy body also is full of darkness.                                                                                   Luke 11:34

Vacations are interesting entities.  They are times when you spend money you know better than to spend and visit places that you may have only had a vague interest in previously.

In our family, vacations are a valued commodity that arrive only once every 3 – 4 years.  It’s a time when we have saved and set aside so that we can travel off for a day or two and leave everything behind for someone else to care for.  This year was our year of VACATION – August 1999!!

We had been given our hotel room as a gift and part of that gift included tickets to the Movieland Wax Museum.  None of us had ever been to a wax museum – however, none of us had ever really been over-enthusiastic about going either.  But, it was vacation!  A time to see something new!  A time to . . . well, you know.

At first, I was intrigued by the replicas; life-size dolls, the exact size of a famous movie star, wearing the original costume from a movie or an article of clothing from the movie star’s personal wardrobe – or so they claim.

The tour began with the older movies.  What took me by surprise was the size of the stars.  The women were so tiny, petite (to compensate for the 20 extra pounds the camera add, I suspect).  Jean Harlow, Bette Davis, Kathryn Hepburn – all movie greats, up close and personal.

Then there were the men.  Characters that loomed so large on the screen were trim young men, not much taller than myself.  The illusion of grandeur diminished.  The overwhelming feeling of awe was reduced.  They were just people.  People who struggled with self-esteem and the pressures of fame.  People, just like me, who tried to juggle work and family and (prayerfully) devotions.

As I continued the tour I recognized depression setting over me.  Why, Lord?  What are you showing me that I can’t see?

“Look at them,” He said, “carefully.”

I began to look into the faces – past the aging clothing, the dusty sets, the fading make-up, and a few missing fingers.  I stood in one spot and turned a full circle, looking carefully into the eyes of the replicas.

“There’s nothing, Lord, nothing!”

And that was it!  Deep in the eyes was the absence of the soul.  They were exact replicas of the bodies of men – void of love, hate, joy, dreams and visions.  It was a morgue of dead bodies, dressed up to entertain people.

I walked through the “horror” section and felt nothing.  Even with the sound tracks playing in the background of some of the sets, there was nothing.  The eyes were dead and blank.  There were no demons, no tormented souls, no hate, no raging insanity.  They were the eyes of the hopelessly dead.

After leaving the museum I searched the face of every person I saw.  The daily anguish, joy and stresses were there.  It slowly relieved my depression.  It gave me new hope and a fresh battleground.  For in the tormented eyes there is hope for salvation.  In joy there is peace and encouragement for tomorrow.

No matter what the tormented soul is screaming out through the eyes – as long as there is life, there is an opportunity for Jesus to enter in.

Lord, let me always remember that every face I see could belong to a soul of little time.  Give me the courage to change the demons that dance in those eyes, before they become the eyes of the hopelessly dead.

 

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War Room – The Posture of Prayer

6 Oct

Linda's Bible 9-10-15

“Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.”   Philippians 4:6 (KJV)

After the release of the Affirm Film, War Room, many people showed where they had created War Rooms in their closets or offices.  That’s wonderful, but many of us don’t have a house big enough for those sorts of areas.  My “War Room” or what I call “War Area” is actually at the kitchen table.  I also have a chalkboard in my bedroom where I have the names of people listed who have requested prayer.  Your War Room could be in your bathroom, bedroom, garage, a park bench, a back yard, in your car, on the bus, on a train, in a plane, it is anyplace that you can get a moment alone with God.  The important thing is that you are taking the names of others to God for their needs.

It doesn’t matter if you are on your knees, on your face, on your feet or sitting in a chair – it isn’t about the position of the body that makes the prayers powerful, it is the humble and contrite heart that makes the difference.

It doesn’t matter if you have an hour to pray, 30 minutes to pray, or 5 minutes to pray.  It doesn’t matter if your language is elegant, simple or completely silent for lack of knowing what to say.  Some folks just cry before God and He knows what is in the heart and what the prayer is all about.

Prayer isn’t saying things in a special or specific way.  Prayer is just talking to God, just having a conversation and listening for Him to answer back.  People talk about praying at all times.  I am one of those people.  Prayer doesn’t need a special place or posture, it is being thankful at all times, talking to God at all times, and being aware of your surroundings and the needs that are there.  It’s praying for a car broken down on the side of the road, an ambulance going in the opposite direction, a sad person walking along the road, a happy child dancing in a yard.  Prayer is just speaking a word of help, or healing, or peace, or thankfulness.

And the most important point to this is – Prayer Works.  The only prayers that are not answered are the prayers that are never spoken. Take a moment, look around, say a prayer.  It feels amazing!

————-

Do you need prayer?  Send an email to shiloh.spiritual@aol.com and I will add you to my prayer board.  Have a Blessed Day!  Mama Linda

 

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RESTING WITH MARY

21 Aug

Martha and Mary with Jesus

“But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”  LUKE 10:42 

—

Forever in my mind rests the sweet fragrance of a summer rose,

    the cool soft pedals caress the tips of my fingers,

    the perfectly formed flower nestles gently in my memory

  –  ready to rise at a moments request.

—

Though the rose is gone

  –  the memory,

    ever much as sweet,

    cannot be taken away.

—

Then stands the Rose of Sharon

  –  a tender fragrance rising sweetly in my soul.

    A cool, soft caress that soothes my weary mind

    and removes the torments of the day,

    nestled gently and preciously inside this child,

    where He cannot be taken away.

—

The words of the Master hide safely in my heart,

    prepared to flow forth in the time of need.

    Lying safely in the arms of the Spirit,

    residing tenderly within this child.

—

Though the wooden structure of the Church

    may be destroyed,

    and every book burned,

    inside this child rests a temple

    with God’s Word that cannot be taken away.

—

And though this body may be taken,

  –  what victory, what joy  –

    for that which rests inside my heart and soul

    will be brought to life in that Holy City,

  when I meet Jesus, face to face.

—

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Birth Of The Bride

20 Aug

Genesis 1

Adam ressurection

The waters came forth,

    pure and abundant,

    preparing for life,

    supernaturally.

—

The evening and the morning,

    were the 5th day,

    life had begun.

—

From the dust of the dry land,

    and the waters of the sea,

    God’s hand formed and molded man,

    the first Adam.

—

The blood in his body lay silent,

    His image and soul lay pure,

    without life, water and blood ran together,

    unheedingly.

—

Then into his nostrils did God breathe,

    true life,

    not merging liquid,

    not hardened soil.

—

The gentle breeze from the soul of God,

    drew man to life,

    away from silent existence,

    covenant of love,

    covenant of truth.

—

The blood and water coursed within man,

    birthing forth the desire,

    of a new covenant.

—

In the safety of love man rested,

    a deep sleep,

    peaceful sleep.

—

God reached deep inside,

    removing a small sacrifice,

    blood and water and molded dust.

—

This rib became the bride of Adam,

    still and lifeless,

    breathed to life,

    by the same precious deity,

    the one Holy God.

—

By the breath of God did the woman rise,

    from mere existence,

    to precious life.

—

The evening and the morning,

    were the 6th day,

    the Bride was born.

—

She was to bear the cycle,

    the covenant of blood and water,

    the temporary temple of God’s chosen.

—

The cycle continued,

    covenant   –   sacrifice,

    birth    –    sacrifice,

    covenant    –    death.

—

Jesus, the final covenant,

    God the son,

    the substance of new life,

    pierced in His side.

—

Even in death,

    precious blood and water,

    amniotic fluid ran down the cross,

    onto a cursed hill  –  Golgatha.

—

With it ran the seed of a new nation,

    a new generation,

    the covenant of eternal life,

    the Bride of Christ.

—

With His last earthly breath,

    He drew in the sins of the world,

    and the Bride to come,

    that all life might dwell,

    in the Holy promises.

—

The sins, cleansed and forgiven,

    ran with the blood,

    ran with the water,

    planting the seed,

    of the covenant to come,

    Kingdom Heirs.

—

A tiny baby, born in the darkest of times,

    nurtured by the hand of God,

   filled with the breath of the Spirit,

    coursed through with sacrificial blood,

    sacrificial water.

—

No longer apart from God the Father,

    no longer apart from God the Son,

    the miraculous testimony of living Word,

    birthed in the death of sin.

—

Rise up, Oh Israel,

    take your inheritance of life,

    God breathed,

   Holy & Blessed.

—

Clothe yourself in gold and purple,

    as the rightful Bride,

    of Christ.

—

Rise up, Oh Israel,

    for the Groom prepares the place,

    where you shall dwell,

    the promises have come to pass,

    where faith meet truth,

    and they become one.

—

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