Tag Archives: Man

The Evil In Man

20 Jul
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)


By Linda J. Humes

Written 1-1-2013

WHEN

17 Sep

But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.” Luke 18:16-17 KJV

 

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The Lord keeps showing me, over and over,

images of the little child that rests inside each angry man.

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The baby who first discovered his fingers and toes,

or laughed with glee upon his first sighting of a butterfly.

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The little boy who wiggled through his first haircut,

he was so proud.

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The little boy who brought home weed-flowers

for his mom to put in a vase.

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The cut-out crooked hearts

with “I love you, daddy” scribbled across.

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The little boy who wanted to be a policeman,

a fireman or the President.

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The little boy who learned to ride a bike

and could almost keep up with dad.

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The little boy who chewed wild grass

and dreamt of flying a rocket to the moon.

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The little boy who made a 100% on his spelling test,

but couldn’t quite figure out math.

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When did he turn into an angry young man,

bitter, distant and lost.

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When did friends become more precious than family,

no matter when, no matter where.

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When did Christmas cookies turn to alcohol,

Mother Goose to pornography.

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When did alcohol turn to drugs;

to live for, to kill for, to die for.

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When did skateboards turn to drive-by shootings,

picnics to funerals, love to hate.

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When did he become an angry young man,

falling deeper and deeper into sin, into death, into Hell.

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If you look close enough you can see that little boy,

through the dazed eyes of drugs.

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If you listen carefully you can hear that little boy crying out for help,

for peace, for love.

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If you hug him long enough you will feel the shield and barriers fall away

– long enough for him to know someone cares.

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And if you walk with him long enough you can guide him along the path

to find that little boy again.

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Written 3/21/95

WHAT IF HE . . .

17 Sep

But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”  Philippians 4:19  KJV

 

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What if He hadn’t done it that day,

Fashioned our lives with compassion and clay.

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What if the Garden had soon been destroyed,

Because of man’s sin against God, there deployed.

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What if He hadn’t called Noah to build,

If He’d thought it easier if all had been killed.

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What if He hadn’t called Moses to lead,

Had left wayward people to tend Pharaoh’s needs.

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What if He hadn’t sent Manna for food,

But waited ‘til man proved righteous and good.

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What if He hadn’t sent Giants to flight,

If He hadn’t called David to stand up and fight.

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What if He hadn’t sent Joshua to scout,

If all those who went said there was no way out.

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What if He hadn’t sent people to pray,

Provide for the Prophets, to open the way.

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What if He hadn’t sent Jesus to die,

Then where, in God’s world, would stand you and I.

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What if He hadn’t resurrected that day,

Come back to earth to show us the way.

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And what if He hadn’t called you and I,

But left us to sin, to shame and to die.

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But He didn’t leave us, Never will the Word reads.

He stands right beside us, And provides all our needs.

 

 

 

💕 Written 3/18/95

TURNING AROUND

17 Sep

Be still, and know that I am God: . . .” Psalm 46:10

 

I have never known the love of a natural Father.

But through the unconditional love of my children,

You have shown me how precious it can be.

I have found it so very hard to trust man,

But You have shown me that love can be present,

Without performance or expectation.

I have struggled through past loneliness,

But You have shown me the treasure of being alone,

And quiet before You.

Thank You for turning my world around.

 

 

Written 6-15-2002

SACRIFICE

16 Sep

By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.”  Hebrews 13:15  KJV

The Ancient of Days,

cast Himself to the earth,

in the form of a seed,

in the womb of a virgin.

Subject, now, to heat and cold,

to fatigue and illness,

to prejudice and ridicule,

to suffering and pain.

The Ancient of Days,

became man,

flesh, blood and Spirit;

willingly giving,

the power of deity,

for the birth of a nation.

The God of Jessie,

born through the sacrifice of blood,

to become the blood sacrifice.

From the promises to Adam,

to the revelation shown John,

the blood of God coursed the earth,

changing strength and direction,

at the tributary called Christ.

The new stream of Christ,

fed the trees of new life,

where the roots of the old,

were washed clean.

The water, most pure,

chased the stagnant pools of red,

that once rinsed man’s hands,

but touched not the soul.

The water, most pure,

flowed over and cleansed,

the wounds of the past,

refreshing the hope,

of a dark, tarnished dream.

The water of life,

borne from the blood,

of an innocent man,

takes sweet revenge,

on the deepest of sin.

Released to be washed,

by the power of mercy,

by the treasure of grace,

it rises back up,

to the base of the cross.

There, at the cross,

the blood and water,

of grace and mercy,

flows down to the earth,

as forgiven sin reaches up,

meeting at the feet of Christ.

Running together they became one,

the earth shook with promise,

the sky darkened,

to reveal a new light,

and the rivers flowed,

with a new wine,

washing clean the weary souls,

of all that would reach forth,

in praise.

 

 

Written 10-18-1998

ISOLATION

20 Oct

He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him. Psalm 91:15

I have fallen back into myself,

It’s so comfortable there.

I see the child

Looking for shelter, reaching out to me,

By my solitude – so precious –

Keeps me from reaching back.

I see the man

Drinking away his pain.

No, no, no.” I shout,

But from my safe place no one can hear,

They continue toward death.

I see the woman

At the point of desperation

Mouths to feed, bills to pay, all alone.

I start to reach out

But in my isolation she can’t see I care.

The pain of others so overwhelms me

That I crawl farther out of sight

To my safe place with Jesus.

Yet in my safe place there’s a stirring

Scriptures echo in my mind

The rumbling of the Spirit bursts through bone and sinew!

Is this what I’ve called you to?” Cries God.

Hesitantly I look into the eyes of my Father,

He’s not angry, only hurt.

The tenderness in His eyes draws me.

I reach for His outstretched hand,

And step back out of myself.

In my mouth He’s placed the words that I must take,

To the Child, To the Woman, To the Man.

The words that will turn their pain to Hope,

Their death to Life.

The Words – The Gift – of my Father.

 

Written 2/5/2003

CRIMSON BLOOD

8 Sep

Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, Make you perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you that which is wellpleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.       Hebrews 13:20-21

 

So curious a creature are we,

 ingenious in the ways of war,

 yet perplexed by wounds,

 ever so greater,

 than any weapon,

 could ever conceive.



Wounds so deep,

 into the hearts,

 of our smallest children,

 that no medicine made,

 today or tomorrow,

 could ever lift the pain,

 piercing through.



Fatal wounds inflicted,

 by those they love most,

 in acts of anger,

 in acts of arrogance,

 in tearing away,

 from the gift they call love.



When the hope dies,

 along with worthiness,

 the wounded child,

 remains small,

 though the body may grow,

 to adulthood,

 to accountability.



Where, then, do they turn,

 when they scream out for love,

 from a deadened heart,

 pushed so deeply,

 into a box,

 of protective devices,

 flushed by deadening tasks?



Who, then, can see,

 into the callused eyes,

 shielding the soul,

 from any possibility,

 of additional wounds.



Only the Son of Light,

 can burn so bright,

 as to see into the depths,

 of a lightless life.



Only the Son of Life,

 can loosen the sword,

 of tainted love,

 and killing words,

 to free the fatal wound,

 in the deadened heart,

 of a little child,

 now the shape of a man.



It is only the Son,

 who called us from birth,

 set angels at our side,

 and prayed with our prayers,

 until the day,

 we were ready to heal.



It is only the Son,

 who’s dark crimson blood,

 entered into the wound,

 lubricating the weapon,

 only He could remove,

 cauterizing the opened cavity,

 filling it with the endless gift,

 of God’s perfect love.

 

 

Written 11-15-1998