Tag Archives: Son

CYCLE

5 Apr

And he said, My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest. Exodus 33:14

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The rose bushes are pruned and bare, dormant.

The valleys are brown, dry.

The air is crisp, clean, clear.

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Crystals of cold hang in the air, waiting.

From the first appearance,

It seems as though death has come to overcome.

Look closer still.

…

The cold releases dew, seeping deep underground.

The brief glimpses of sunlight beacon tender buds,

Soon the cycle of life resumes.

…

Like seasoned Christians;

Pruned, trimmed, resting.

The Love of God surges forth,

When weariness gives way to rest in the Son.

 

 

Written 2-6-2002

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SWEET FRAGRANCE

15 Oct

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“I will accept you with your sweet savour, when I bring you out from the people, and gather you out of the countries wherein ye have been scattered; and I will be sanctified in you before the heathen.” Ezekiel 20:41

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I love flowers. I could study the simple beauty of a flower for hours – breathing in the gentle aroma that lifts from the petals. I am completely convinced that when God created the Heavens and the earth He knew I was coming and created flowers just for me!

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I most enjoy the age-old garden variety flower; the one with bugs and bees. The kind you can smell without having to bend down and stick your nose in. I grow them in pots at home, as well as in my office. Being blessed with an office window and a door to the outside, I now enjoy the fresh color every time I have to deliver a memo. God is so good!

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This last Mother’s Day I was given a carnation by a local restaurant. It was a beautiful peach color. It immediately brought back memories of buying carnations from the “Flower Children” in the 70’s and 80’s as they held their street corner stations. I quickly buried my nose in the cool petals, but was surprised and dismayed at the absence of its sweet perfume. The was no aroma – no sweetness.

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A few days later I was given a rose boutonniere, left over from an awards presentation. The leaves were perfectly formed, the bud slightly opened – the rich red petals were awesome – but no aroma.

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As beautiful as these two flowers were, there was a hollowness, an incompleteness, like a peach without flavor, or a lamp without light. The first flower I thought was an oddity, but the second was more than coincidence.

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All that week, as I passed retail flower shops, I would stop to smell the flowers – NOTHING!! “Lord,” I prayed, “where is the sweetness You created with this gift? Why is it gone?”

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The answer came as simply as asked, “There is no fragrance without the sun.”

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These plants had been grown in greenhouses, under artificial lights, in special climate controlled conditions. No warmth of the sun, or cool of the night. No rain from Heaven, just processed city water. No fragrance.

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We, too, are like greenhouse flowers. We can be beautiful to look upon, and give the “Impression” of sweetness from a distance, but without the Son, kissing us every day with His soul feeding Word, we have no sweet fragrance. Impressions only last a moment, but beauty, blessed with sweetness, will remain a pleasant memory for a lifetime.

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The Bible refers to our praise and sacrifice as a sweet savor, rising up to the nostrils of God. An eternal pleasure in God’s memory.

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Lord, let me always be a sweet savor in Your thoughts. Remind me, daily, that without the Son, and the gift He gave, there will be no fragrance.

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Written 5-23-00

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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

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