Tag Archives: Soul

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.

SHRINE

27 Apr

Shrine

By Linda J. Humes

“We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.” 2 Corinthians 5:8

It breaks my heart. Every time I pass by a part of me rips. It drives me to an urgency of prayer. Shrines – ornate piles of mementos placed along the side of a road at a point where a life was lost. Not a simple white cross, but a memorial of treasures, family pictures, candles, flowers, trees, elaborate crosses, balloons, clothing, even a whiskey bottle decorates one near my home. Paths to the shrine are kept raked and clean, a row of rocks line each side of the path. Someone spends hours of time showing their love for one lost. This is only one example of many that are scattered throughout the community.

It is difficult to know much about the one being memorialized, but the ones left behind are the ones I grieve for. Do they believe the “ghost” of the loved one lingers there to enjoy the birthday banners, Christmas trees, stuffed Easter Bunny, or the framed photos that are changed every few months? Do they think a disembodied soul floats about, mourning and waiting for the living to remember them at holidays?

I pray continually that God would send someone to the keepers of the shrine, to let them know the peace of letting go. To let them know that there is more to life than animate mementos of life. To let them know about Jesus. To show them His great love. To give them the security of knowing that to be absent from the body is to be in the presence of God. That our peace after death is completely dependent upon our relationship with Christ, not on those who have stayed behind.

I don’t know who tends the shrines, but I know my God. I know that every prayer I utter meets the ears of my Creator, and I know that He can bring the right person, with the right words, at the right time, to touch their hearts and direct their souls.

Jesus, if that person is me – show me the way.