To you I cry, O Lord of lights,
Illumine my soul, and hear my plea;
The devil is near with flaming darts,
Make swift my feet, that I might flee.

Come touch my heart and make me whole,
Fill every need, make glory shine;
And under your hand, no plan shall fail,
When Word and Deed in faith combine.

A world of peoples, cultures, languages,
Lies beyond my small horizon,
Across oceans, over mountains,
Around the corner from my house.

My little circle draws a line
To neatly hold my loved ones in,
Define those I consider mine,
Exclude who isn’t my kith and kin.

To others the kingdom’s door is shut,
My comfort rules, I can’t be bothered,
In my own clan my treasure’s put —
The gospel? By someone else be offered.

A new Bible, a new journal, a new page,
a new day, a new start, a new age —
So much newness! So much hope! Unspoken fear!
Can I really and truly change in this new year?
Growth has happened, progress made, but oh! how slow!
God prepares his people with patience — Yes, Lord, I know!

This little gem was sent to my Cloudburst poetry list back in 2008. Nobody saw it outside that now defunct list. (Here’s the post I wrote on the occasion.) So I thought I’d revive it, since it applies even more, now that we have some grandkids near us to share the holiday with. What doesn’t apply is the mention of cold. All the windows are open here, and the fans at high speed.

May your day be blessed today. Continue reading

“How,” the man thought to himself, “how
Did I ever reach this lowest point in my life?
And now it seems I have no strength to stop.
The end is in sight, this path’s ignoble ruin.
Must I observe my final steps to death?”

He did not reach his present state at once,
But inch by imperceptible inch was moved
Away from ultimate good, by a velvet voice,
His conscience squelched, his eternal soul convinced
That one small step made no real difference.

Who prays for me? A few I know,
But many must hasten to heaven’s gate
Whose names I’d never guess—they go
To God on my behalf—up straight
Their intercessions rise.

I know because the angelic horde
Protects, defends, and circles ’round
Against the earthly, airy lord—
His fiery arrows fall to the ground—
Gabriel’s army flies.

The Master spared me many a hurt,
His mercy a sure reply to prayer—
Else I’d lay prone, face-down, in the dirt,
If not for a righteous multitude’s care—
Faithful, hidden allies.

Seven spirits, searching eyes,
Wheels spinning, whispers blowing,
Dwelling, changing, dwindling passions,
Filling with joy, to fight the demons,
Words of comfort, willing partner,
Peace descending, pain receding,
Holy Spirit to heaven leading.