Humor Us

So serious and it is, but,

So weary on our minds.

To leery to believe, but,

I need another wine.

The news is true, it is, but,

Deceivers still deceive.

The arguments are brief, but,

They never seem to leave.

Could use a little head-butt,

Another crack or two.

Its moments like today, but,

The numbers are too few.

Humor us again, but,

Be sure to aim to please.

The weight is still upon, us,

Until the bad news leaves.

In the Wake

In the wake of suffering and death,

In whom can I trust and confide?

The anguish of my broken heart,

Where is My Comfort and Guide?

The troubles of my mind do race,

It is hard to sleep and quell,

The pain and lack of warm embrace,

Of one I knew so well.

When will all the mourning go,

When will the grief subside?

It is not for me to have no hope,

But for death itself to die!

I look again to my Savior’s morn,

The new first day of the week,

When I peak and glimpse at the breaking light,

And find joy in the midst of the bleak.

Torn In Two

Open windows have no blinds other than the eyes of our heart’s focus.

Whether there is a breeze or not, the time should allow you to find your true locus,

But beatitudes do not always allow you see through the veil of your own


Selfish ambitions are often sinister in their own deceptions,

Performing as double agent ministers to capture your trust and election.

True values disguised and assisted by your human weakness



Supposedly wanting to view the possibilities that our frailties skew,

We exhaust our excuses which choke off the believability you

cry about.

The religion of our decisions causing the old veil to remain


Despite the fact the ultimate sacrifice was already


Blindness still prevails in times of temptation secretly well


Failing to prayerfully unplug the ingrained weaknesses

still wired.

Opportunities presenting themselves are not captured despite open windows,

Pieces of our hearts cut off by sharp broken glass


Frustratingly torn, we regret our blindness that ensured the openness


Broken realties now leave us tearing and angrily


Helped ripped apart by tares the enemy secretly and nightly plotted.

Fearful and unknowing of tomorrow’s rising, we despair, for

the tear is dire.

(From Things to Consider)

A man of God is not so easily offended by men because his heart is not set to be a pleaser of men, but of God. God reminds him that he is loved by God, and God pours His love into his heart through the Holy Spirit. His heart becomes hardened to men’s offenses because God is the strength of his heart and his portion forever. In this way, he becomes more like the Son of God than a son of man. He knows the Father’s voice. “This My son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased.”

(From Things to Consider)

If both Church and State are so abhorred by the debasement of women, then why are they both silent about pornography?

(From Struggles)

The demon of evil earthy desire says, “Have something else and something more,” but the angel of godly heavenly contentment says, “Have something less and something pure.”

(From Struggles)

The tension between remaining childlike in my faith but mature in my behavior is confusing, but innocence cannot be an excuse for irresponsibility, when God has given me the ability to respond.


Fires come and fires go,

Some from heaven, some below,

Wreaking havoc as they burn,

Or saving souls from depths forlorn.

Instrument of god of choice,

To whom you’ve wed for better or worse.

Eternal dimension as a course,

Gnash with wailing or rejoice.

A pawn of action in his hand,

To scorch or cleanse the forest land.

Measure of trial from the one,

Whose heart he owns as daughter or son,

Who are burned up or consumed,

A willful, waiting, choice of two.

Flames from heaven or below,

Preference of the lord you know,

To fill his purpose and design,

One is devilish and One Divine.

Time Tells

Time is precious. Time is frustrating.

Time is given and then taken away.

We borrow. We lose. We ask for more.

Time is sometimes spent in a revolving door.

Time is past. Time is present. Time is future.

Time is always counting but is neutral.

Time is lonely. Time is glad.

Time we appreciate and misunderstand.

We steal. We waste. We don’t know what for.

Time will tell if we have any more.

Time is here and time is nowhere.

Time is always moving but is crucial.

If Following

Following after is a choice or two.

We’re given an if we desire to.

Not a required demand for you,

But your want to follow Him.

The right and left foot need follow through.

One foot alone will never do.

It takes more than one if you hearken to,

The call to follow Him.

You take up your cross in order to.

The two feet alone will not prove true.

The feet without cross will fail for you,

The choice to follow Him.

To deny yourself is a must for you.

Your cross and two feet will not subdue,

The challenge you face to totally do, His will if following Him.

No Fear

Danger, strangers, just about alarm me!

Daunting, haunting, voices try to warn me!

Liars, briers, haters come to harm me!

Barter, martyr, Father fully arm me!

Demon, screaming, Get the hell behind me!

Confessing, blessing, Son of God beside me!

Will He? Fill me! Holy Spirit try me!

Power! Valor! Virtue should comprise me!

Mother, brother, all who help to ground me!

Lover! Hover! Perfect love surrounds me!


Delaying, surveying, wants and effects,

Considering all the self-congruence.

Weighing, debating, the results in advance,

Praying whether to leave them to chance.

Knowing, towing, what He wants me to do,

Jarring, sparring, until I break through.

Waiting portraying, the few in the boat,

Wondering when I fulfill what was wrote.

Staying obeying, is not up to vote,

Praying to know if it might be a hoax.

Knowing I’m growing towards what I must do,

Nothing appearing until I break new.

Mulling, dulling, the voice and the call,

I have to be willing to give it up all.

Throwing out reasons to feign and to stall,

Praying for Helper to help me walk tall.

Knowing going, was always in view, Today, I finally, break and make true.