Christ’s Eyes Were Blindfolded That We Might See

A foolish man has eyes that remain blind to truth that frees.

He can’t fulfill his calling, for it’s based on what he sees.

But Jesus taught us we must live by faith and not by sight,

Because appearances deceive. They do not always show what’s right.

Samson, for example, had a destiny from God.

The Holy Spirit worked through him although the man was flawed.

He helped deliver Israel from the Philistine’s evil rule.

Because Philistines had giants and ran an iron-fisted school.

Through this man, Samson, however, God brought great victory.

He gave the man great strength. Yet Samson acted foolishly,

By allowing his own eyes’ lust to lead him into temptation.

In falling for Delilah, it seems he had no hesitation.

Because she ruled his life by nagging every single day,

So that the source of his great strength eventually gave way.

Thus the man who once was Spirit-empowered became blind-sided,

Because no one could heal his vision once he had been blinded.

The one he lusted after ended up betraying him.

That’s how he got attacked, and his vision became dim.

Oh, how the enemy works to blind the vessels God does choose

To free His captive people and to offer them good news!

Unfortunately, everyone in this world is born blind,

Yet there is hope for us because we have a God that’s kind.

He sent His Son, far greater than Samson, to bring us liberty.

Despite our own eyes’ lust. Jesus came to set us free.

For on the night of His betrayal, Jesus was denied,

And not a single follower of His stood at His side.

They found a dirty cloth and wound it tightly around his eyes,

Like a stripe to blind the one whose words they did despise

This man did nothing wrong, yet he was buffeted and bruised,

In darkness told to prophesy. “A liar!” they accused.

To say He felt the pain of our shame is to put it lightly,

As He, God-in-the-flesh, atoned for our sins so unsightly,

So that when we feel the mockery that springs from our own sin,

We might be healed by every insult that was placed on him

And see how much the Father loves us, healing each delusion

Can Jesus heal blind eyes? Of course! For He felt our confusion!  

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Jesus Christ Will Soon Return; Let This Word Sink In

Jesus Christ will soon return.  

Let this Word now sink in.

For it’s been a hard time with some things,

I have taken it “on the chin.”

And yes, there have been days

When I believed I’d never win;

So many trials and tribulations

In a world that’s filled with sin.

The doubts seemed to take over,

Faith stuck in sinking sand,

Still wading through this trial,

On Christ the solid rock I stand.

The scriptures give me comfort,

They are my source of hope

Especially when I feel like I’m hanging

On the short end of a rope.

The cliff lies straight beneath me

But the Lord will lift me up.

He is my manna, my reward.

Behold the bread, the cup.

I overcome by Jesus’ blood

And by my testimony.

Trust Him to come through each time.

His words are never phony.

Though weeping may last for a night,

Joy comes after mourning.

We must prepare for Christ’s return,

Which will come without warning.

Now is the time to heed the warning.

The Heart That Won’t Pretend May Mend

The heart that won’t pretend may mend, but when will mourning end?

Everybody in the world needs a good friend.

If we want to heal, we must be real and learn to feel.

But when others cry or laugh, what message does it send?

The heart that won’t pretend may mend. Have you a hand to lend?

For reality bites, though it does produce insights,

And through pain we may be set free,

Even though we fear it may last an eternity.

A flood of emotions pours into the sea

Of this broken earth in all gravity.

Some chase after strife to give them life,

But such running ends in bitterness, distress.

“By Jesus’ stripes we are healed”

Is not a platitude or simple attitude.

Our griefs He bore, so let us not ignore.

Life in His blood has power to heal,

The question is: Can you feel?

Seeds of faith that fall on rocks

Bear no fruit in the end.

For the heart that does not pretend

Eventually may mend.

But woe to the one who rejects a true friend.

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My Husband Loves My Latest Post

My husband loves my latest post. I am so happy to hear that. He loves the rhymes, especially the part about “Mike”! Now that’s the kind of review I can always go for! Soon I think I will start writing more again.

To me this goes to show that, contrary to some writing advice, what friends and family say about a writer’s work DOES matter. When my husband likes my work, it means the world to me!

If you’ve ever done any writing – with the idea of being published – then you will quickly come to realize that writing can’t be done in a vacuum. Every writer needs support from someone, preferably those closest to them. Even non-writers need support. We like to feel like we are heard. So when someone shares an idea with you, even if it’s off the wall, taking the time to listen and encourage them can work wonders.

True, that doesn’t translate into automatic success. But it can encourage a person not to give up, that with excellent coaching and perseverance the battle can be won. If you want to do well as an author, then share your work with someone. Put it out there. See what works.

If you keep going, you will get somewhere. But don’t forget to pray, because God is our greatest source of encouragement. Jesus said in John chapter 15 that “Without Me, you can do nothing.” He also told his followers to love one another, and encouragement is a form of love.

Readers feel free to weigh in. When your spouse (or other family member) believes in your writing, does it or does it not inspire you to persevere?

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Going on a Short Writing Sabbatical

I’m going on a short writing sabbatical,

Even though I know it may sound radical.

But I’ve got stuff to deal with and if I do not,

Then all it will do is stir up the pot

Of things I must juggle. For me, it’s too much,

And though writing can help me, it’s not the best crutch.

So, please understand if I’m not here as often,

My website is not going into a coffin.

But I cannot be here as much as I’d like.

So please understand. This is not about “Mike.”

And I will be back here as much as I can,

Though for now I’ve my hands full, I’ve too much to plan.

Starve Out the Spirit of Death

Starve out the spirit of death.

Don’t give it any glory.

Focus not on tragedy

But on the gospel story.

Easier said than done sometimes,

But joy comes after mourning,

Although we know it takes a while

When grief strikes without warning.

Because so many questions: “Why?”

Wage war against belief,

And when folks offer platitudes

It magnifies the grief.

However, when Jesus was born,

Angels proclaimed His glory.

They starved the spirit of death

By dwelling on the gospel story.

“Joy to the world” they sang,

Prompting the shepherds to rejoice.

Then later in the temple,

There were just two who raised their voice.

Two prophets, Simeon and Anna,

Recognized and spoke of Him

Right under Herod’s nose

When Christ was in Jerusalem.

Then wise men came and brought their gifts,

But Herod was distressed.

His life was soaked in tragedy.

He wanted to be blessed.

No king would rule over him.

This babe was going down!

God warned Joseph, who fled with him,

Escaping his hometown.

But Bethlehem knew tragedy.

It was a sorry day:

Rachel weeping for her children,

Grief that wouldn’t go away.

And yes, there is a time to mourn,

As when Jesus died,

Our sins to nail upon a cross.

Behold His bleeding side!  

He died to set us free,

But He was also resurrected.

For joy He did endure the cross

Though nobody suspected

That he could really do that.

Yet it happened. Can you see?

Amid your tragedy, can you

Behold His victory?

Though you might have to sing through tears,

Just aching to survive,

By praising Him you give the

spirit of death No room to thrive.

Consider Him who reigns on high

And wields the two-edged sword,

Proclaiming “Starve the spirit of death

And magnify the Lord!”

Through the Valley, Not Much to Say

I’m going through the valley now and don’t have much to say, after trying for so very long to just obey. So much I tried, but no success. I didn’t understand. Everywhere I looked I seemed to see a reprimand. The trials have been torturous, I’m trying to look up. I’ve stared death in the face now and I’ve drunk the bitter cup.

All I really want is to reconnect with God. Everything else is window dressing.

Who cares about popularity or hitting that top spot? It seems to be way overrated. So much uncertainty with the plot.

I had so much to share, but few people seemed to care. But God used my loneliness to lead me to more prayer. How hard must be this valley for people in despair! Now that I have entered it, I have found you there.

You weren’t supposed to be here, confused about your calling, wondering what you’re meant to do, feeling like you’re falling. I was the one who felt as if she had failed to connect with friends and family, but I never did suspect

What happened just this week. It came so sudden, a low blow. When you, my friend, lost everything, I knew that I must go and stay right with you where you were to share the bitter cup.  This simply wasn’t fair to you, why must you drink this up?

I’m the valley with you now and haven’t much to say. I know that we both know It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. But I’m glad I can be here for you right to the very end, because I care about you. On this earth, you’re my best friend. 

I’m in this valley with you. You don’t have to walk alone, as we both seek our Lord Jesus who sits on the throne. Though happier days lie ahead, right now we live in grief. So let’s help one another overcome our belief.

By His Stripes I’m Healed: What This Means to Me

By His Stripes I’m Healed: What This Means to Me

“By His stripes I’m healed” means so much to me, For I am the one who caused His injury, bruising Him for how I’ve hurt myself and others; Failing to do good; revenge I took on brothers; Idle words I’ve spoken, idols I have built, So easily offended, Crunched by sin and guilt. With my own needs consumed, rarely giving glory To the author of this awesome Christmas story.

By His stripes I am healed.

Sin parted me from God, for I was so hateful, At war with my own self, rarely acting grateful. But the Father sent His only Son for me. Men jabbed His head with thorns, whipped His back savagely. Nails pierced His hands and feet. That’s how He broke the wall Of hostility dividing me from God. Blood poured from His wounds to give me liberty. As I drink it in, He enables me to see

In those blessed stripes, God reveals His will for me.

My life is in His blood, which shields me from God’s wrath, For, like a sheep I’ve strayed but He makes straight my path. Abel’s blood cried “Vengeance. Justice must be done.” But Jesus’ blood declares “The battle has been won.” He bore my punishment to bring me victory. So now, when anger comes, it needn’t rest on me. No longer must I eat the fruit of misery, For His blood gives me hope and immortality.

By His stripes, my fate is sealed. 

His righteousness is mine. For shame I have relief, Because He bore my sorrows to blot out my grief. His love drives out the fear that used to cleave to me. The Father has accepted me. I have security, With hugs that say I’m His, and in His house I’ll dine, For He Himself provides both the bread and wine. Fruits of the Holy Spirit make His presence real, Because it is His nature to save, restore and heal.

Feasting on His goodness, resting in His joy. The heavy yoke has lifted, no longer to annoy. All bitterness gives way to blessings that sustain,  Love beyond all reason, peace I can’t explain. To make me rich in faith, my Jesus became poor, And those who trust in Him He saves forevermore. His grace has set me free to dance, rejoice, and sing, And with cheerfulness to give an offering.

  

His stripes reverse the curse as if it never came to be.  Joy to all the world, for He brings us liberty.

Because I have the mindset of my sovereign Lord, And as I lean on Him, my vision is restored. Nobody can condemn me; no weapon can succeed Against me because I am following His lead. In Jesus I have access to every miracle Because in Him all of God’s promises are possible.  In boldness I can speak and know they will come true, Because the things He’s spoken He will surely do.

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To Survive This Christmas Season: My End of Year Goal

To survive this Christmas season,

Ending the year with a good reason,

Has become my current goal.

Because I want to be made whole.

But December has proven to be a rough month. Get out your snow boots.

Because I feel a drift coming on.

Thanksgiving was nice,

A time to celebrate

Family, friendships, happy times.

Success is a different story though. The lack of books sales says it isn’t ending with a bang.

As for writing, I don’t feel motivated.

Trials have gotten me down.

Encouragement came, followed by false accusation.

It’s all I can do not to drown in it.

I can’t really tell you how or when or who, but when I feel the heaviness pressing down on me,

I know It’s more than winter blues. It’s what others choose,

Not just what I read in the news,

But other worldly views. Can’t lie in bed

Because it’s hard to get the words out of my head.

Then they come back to haunt me, to taunt me. If you’ve ever had an angry finger pointed at you

Then maybe you know how I feel.

But it’s the start of Hanukkah.

I need to light a candle,

Let it shine. Light divine,

It’s Advent Time. Looking forward to Christ’s return. No room to spurn

The memory of His coming.  Much to learn.

He’s coming soon.

Look up, your redemption

Draws near. Have no fear, because this is meant to be a time of good cheer.

To survive this Christmas season

I can’t allow the treason

Of sins past, present, or future

To cloud my way. It’s a good day.

Blessings new every morning, though there come a storm warning.

To survive this Christmas season

Takes more than human reason.

So, lift your eyes. Deny the shame.

It’s time to rejoice. Lift up the name.

Jesus came once. He’ll come again. It’s more than just a season. He’s the reason.

 

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Once Upon a Rooftop: Four Men and a Mat

Once upon a rooftop

Four men came with a mat

To lay a man at Jesus’ feet.

But what is up with that?

 

What do these rooftop men stand for,

Who lowered him on down?

Because God always has a plan,

But not for man’s renown.

 

Perhaps the first man’s like the Father,

God of light and love,

Who sent His only Son to earth

From heaven’s throne above.

 

Who knows the heartache He endured

To see Christ on the cross

Partaking of such guilt and shame?

Just think how much it cost!

 

Our burdens Jesus gladly bore,

Though He endured much pain.

For our own sins He suffered loss.

Through Him we’ve much to gain

 

Because the Father gave Him

As a sacrifice for sin.

He let His back be mocked and whipped,

Our victory to win.

 

Therefore His wounds bring us true peace.

Our burdens He did bear

Through the power of the Spirit

Who this truth does share.

 

The Father, Spirit, Son, you see,

That blessed Trinity,

Are like an awesome triangle

That brings us liberty.

 

But one more rooftop man gives you

A brand new faith dimension.

For God’s right arm did all the work,

But we are His extension,

 

The reason for the rectangle

We’re privileged to help carry,

A corner of the sinner’s mat

Which once appeared so scary.

 

But Jesus tore apart the roof

That wouldn’t let us near

To come into God’s presence,

And He says, “Be of good cheer!”

 

To Jesus’ left the Father stands.

They each hold up an end.

The Spirit, also, hovering near,

To God’s Word does attend.

 

Invisibly they wait for us

To take the final part,

Because He’s given us a choice:

“Ignore” or “take to heart.”

 

The Father, Spirit, and Son do long

To help us in our task.

They’re always there to meet our needs,

If only we will ask.

 

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