9/11/22 Through 9/17/22

 9/11/22 Through 9/17/22

Sunday

The grief o'er one that's lost is great

So never stop or hesitate

To search for those astray and lost

And pray they find their Pentecost.

Encounter is the only way

To change the mind of those who stray.

So send, Lord, in their everyday

Your light to lead them on their way.

Monday

Oh Lord, I am not worthy

My life has none to show

That You should grace unworthy

And unto me to go.

A word is quite sufficient

No need to enter in

Alone it's beneficient

Your favor now to win.

Authority I've come to know

Extends beyond these walls,

And just a word from You will show

How evil, prostrate falls.

Tuesday

"Arise", He said, and life returned

Within the hearts of men there burned

A fire kindled by such love

That only comes from God above.

No power seen in mortal man

To execute so great a plan,

Restoring life to cold and dead

The Son of God, the Living Bread.

Let all men see such wonders here

Dispelling darkness, pain, and fear

Instilling love and mercy where

Had been but gloom and deep despair.

Wednesday

The cross be lifted high in me

That awful, deadly, rugged tree.

The source of my salvation bore

His agony, to me restore.

Pure love endured the cross and grave

To every sinner heal and save.

The sign of horror has become

The sign of life for everyone.

The seals there broken by the Lamb

Upon the wood, the Great I AM.

For flesh has conquered by a tree

As on a tree, man fell from Thee.

Thursday

Either yes, or either no,

How simple can it be?

Choose to die, or choose to grow,

Becoming more like Thee.

Satan said, "I will not serve."

And Mary, "Let it be."

All he tried to thus preserve,

But worthless came to be.

Mary's "all" was offered well

Throughout her time below

We, in gloried visions tell

How Christ she came to know.

Here the choice remains the same

In all we say and do.

Offer all you have to claim,

Or Christ Himself eschew.

Mother pure and undefiled

Please intercede for me

Graces grant your little child

That I, like you, may be.

Always saying, "Yes, my Lord."

For all I have is Yours

All is Yours with none in store,

For I, Your will, adore.

Friday

The resurrection of the dead

Is truth, that lives of martyrs spread.

Forsaking all, for that beyond.

Where everlasting light has dawned.

We say that this we all believe

So why to temporal do we cleave?

If life beyond, we trust is good,

Then giving all on earth we should.

For all that's here will pass away,

But lives of souls are here to stay.

Eternal bliss the freed will share,

But damned will keep their earthly fare.

For everything that earth contains

Is but a drop where Jesus reigns.

So cleave not to the earthly good,

But cleave unto the rugged wood.

Saturday

Dying well is my desire

Avoiding that eternal fire.

For all depends on how we die

And if, for holiness we try.

A simple servant, humble seed

That dies to fill another's need.

The old replaced by life anew

By total trust and faith in You.

9/4/22 Through 9/10/22

 9/4/22 Through 9/10/22

Sunday

All lesser loves must fall away
For man to find the winsome way.

Family too, is but a dream 

When juxtaposed to Love Supreme.

I offer all this day to You 

And plead You guide me safely through

Each minute, hour, and every day

I beg Your mercy on the way.

For oft, I've strayed and looked to gold

To be my refuge from the cold,

Or looked and found created things

I turned into my useless kings.

No more I wish to play the fool

The flame of faith I wish to fuel

I beg You let me share Your cross

And count all other gains as loss.

Monday

The hands, for good or ill, may serve

I look at them and there observe

A mix of good and bad achieved

But by the many sins aggrieved.

Each withered in so many ways

By sin throughout the many days

Longing to be healed by Thee,

A crooked sinner, straight and free.

Tuesday

A single touch can bring a change

A single word can rearrange

The way we think and how we act

And what, from Him that we extract.

Prepare my soul oh Lord, to hear

And fill me with that holy fear

That dreading to offend at all

I answer readily Your call.

Wednesday

Lord if You walked the earth today

Of how I live, what would You say?

Would I be blest, or I be woe?

In honesty, I do not know.

I've labored for the things I own

But where I stand is yet unknown.

For have I done as You desire,

Or seek to many things acquire?

I fear to see what might have been

If just more docile I had been.

And what if souls were lost by me

Neglecting well to speak of Thee?

It's none but mercy that I plead

And beg the saints to intercede

That by His blood I be made clean

And only in His blood be seen.

Thursday

All works together for our good

Revealing One they nailed to wood

The darkest hour will be as light

When He returns in pow'r and might.

Fear not the present trial borne

For after darkness comes the morn

And light will make the suff'ring seem

As nothing but a far-off dream.

Friday

Cure my blindness, help me to see

All where I'm lacking closeness to Thee.

Just how my selfishness pride and conceit,

In truth, what I'm proud of will be my defeat.

Make me a servant, humble and true.

May I be counted as one of Your few.

One serving the poor and the needy You love

As just one of the poor and the needy thereof.

Saturday

Queen of Silence, Blessed Mother

Teach me how to love like you

One with Christ as like no other

Grant the grace of holy view.

You that pondered all was given

Clear the mind that I may hear

From my heart be evil driven

That His word be loud and clear.

Only in the silence granted

Clarity of purpose known

In the heart, His word implanted

Seeds of wisdom there are grown.

Built on rock through meditation

Acting on the word we hear

Often heard in adoration

Where His presence, oh so near.

Grant that every generation

Come to know what you have known

Blessing every land and nation

Feeding every seed that's sown.

8/28/22 Through 9/3/22

 8/28/22 Through 9/3/22

Sunday

Why will humble be exalted

And the prideful ones be faulted?

Why the first ones as the last ones

And the orphaned ones as sons?

In the realm of One so holy

Every man is oh, so lowly.

And all we value here below

Is like one simple flake of snow

Each He made a different shape.

Some great, some small, but all create.

The wonderland of wintertime

And all are beauty in His mind.

The proud prefer the old and gray

And follow in their selfish way

Invited but they cannot see

How good obedience would be.

But humble know their true position

And accept their simple mission

Just follow as the Master planned

And be a part of Wonderland.

Monday

The world should be a better place

Because of how we live.

Responding to abundant grace

And freely how we give.

If purity would rule the day

And lust be ever gone

Then children learn the proper way 

To others they be drawn.

Tuesday

Lord help me lift the dim disguise

And see as evil with my eyes

The things that draw away from Thee

And focus all on only me.

Within me let Your Spirit dwell

With every gift my soul to swell

So You alone my soul adores

And all my ways be formed as Yours

Wednesday

It's time for eating solid food,

The word of God within you cued.

It's time for all to do their part

And more than just a smolder start.

To fan the flame of love received

Enlight'ning those by sin deceived

To shine the light where darkness reigns

And break the bond of evil chains.

The lame be cured, the captive freed

A time of favor then decreed

But each must answer well the call

And not His holy will forestall.

Thursday

Put in to deep water disciples are told

For there you will graces and mercies behold.

Then lower the net and prepare for a catch

A mission for you is about to be hatched.

Obedience finds in the weakest of men

The strength to endure every suffering when

His word they obey never counting the cost

Not mourning the pleasure or benefit lost.

But faithfully following His every word

As soon as it's spoken, as soon as it's heard.

The grace He'll supply every step of the way

And give you His strength every hour of the day.

Friday

Enilighten darkness deep within

Expose the motives of my sin

Bring healing where the flesh is torn

And bring the freshness of the morn.

The time is now to fast and pray

Illumine now the narrow way.

Make new the wineskin of my soul

Your love and mercy I extol.

Saturday

In emptiness your cup be filled

For this is what the Father willed

And naught you have is truly yours

As faith and trust alone secures.

The following poem was written by William Knox (1789-1825).  It was said to be Abraham Lincoln's favorite poem and he would often recite it by heart. 

I thought it was a powerful poem, but I wanted to hear "the rest of the story".  What follows is my feeble attempt at a sequel to Mr. Knox's poem. 

Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

(Wm. Knox 1789-1825)

Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

Like a swift-fleeing meteor, a fast-flying cloud,

A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,

Man passes from life to his rest in the grave.

                                  

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,

Be scattered around and together be laid;

And the young and the old, and the low and the high,

Shall molder to dust and together shall lie.

                                  

The infant, a mother attended and, loved,

The mother, that infant’s affection who proved,

The husband, that mother and infant who blessed,

Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.

                                  

The maid, on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,

Shone beauty and pleasure––her triumphs are by;

And the memories of those who have loved her and praised

Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

                                  

The hand of the king that the scepter hath borne,

The brow of the priest that the miter hath worn,

The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,

Are hidden and lost in the depth of the grave.

                                 

The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap,

The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep,

The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,

Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

                                  

The saint, who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,

The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven,

The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,

Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

                                  

So the multitude goes, like the flower or the weed,

That withers away to let others succeed;

So the multitude comes, even those we behold,

To repeat every tale that has often been told.

                                  

For we are the same that our fathers have been;

We see the same sights that our fathers have seen;

We drink the same stream, and we view the same sun,

And run the same course that our fathers have run.

                                  

The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think;

From the death we are shrinking, our fathers would shrink;

To the life that we cling to, they also would cling;

But it speeds for us all, like a bird on the wing.

                                  

They loved, but the story we can not unfold;

They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold:

They grieved, but no wail from their slumbers will come;

They joyed, but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.

                                  

They died––ah ! they died––and we things that are now,

Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow,

Who make in their dwelling a transient abode,

Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage-road.

                                  

Yea ! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,

We mingle together in sunshine and rain;

And the smiles and the tears, the song and the dirge,

Still follow each other like surge upon surge.

                                 

’Tis the wink of an eye, ’tis the draught of a breath,

From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,

From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud:

Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

No Reason Mere Mortals Should Ever Be Proud

(Mark Hennessey)

No reason mere mortals should ever be proud

Except that our Lord shed the burial shroud

To show that the blossoms that wither and fade

In truth for the heavens were lovingly made.

No boast of the mortal, but of the Divine

A boast He allows us to cling to the Vine.

Far more than allowing, He begs us to see

How much that He offers to those who are free.

Free to accept or reject what He has

Free to be prideful in spirit whereas

Ungodly will claim that the truth which you see

May be true for you, but is not true for me.

How true the futility here on this globe

But oh, what a difference if deeper you probe.

Immortal the soul and how true this must be

For nothing on earth ever satisfies thee.

All vanity of vanities, Qoheleth says is true

Far more than what the earth will hold is what is meant for you

But here we have the right, for good or ill to choose

A life within the blinding Light, or Light itself to lose.

No feat that mere mortal ever has done

No prizes for physics or chemistry won

Is ever much more than a lazy old yawn

For the One who creates every morning the dawn.

All mortal possesses is only a gift

And his life on the earth always passes so swift

There’s no reason for pride in a thing he has done

For all was but given to him by the One.

But here is the one thing that’s worthy of pride

No matter how far we astray from His side.

His mercy and love for the mortals He’s shown

And prideful they be if He calls them His own.

8/21/22 Through 8/27/22

 8/21/22 Through 8/27/22

Sunday

Jesus Lord of all creation

Calling men from every nation.

Come and share My Father's table

Enter in if you are able.

Narrow be the gate you enter

Come the humble and the slender

Come enter now My Father's rest

For many try but fail the test.

Fat and proud may try to enter

They that shunned the Holy Mentor

Those hearing what He had to say

But failing to His word obey

Sounds of grinding teeth and wailing

For the trying but the failing

The foolish ones who knew the way

But in their pride would not obey.

Monday

Woe to those who lead to sin

Who welcome not His Spirit in

Had you such zeal for righteous ways

Then God would welcome in your praise.

But you distort the good and pure

The blind and lame you fail to cure

But cloud the way for those who seek

And lead astray the young and weak.

Wake up and see that doom awaits

Another lie no dread abates

Repent and let the truth be told

Then truth will shape a proper mold.

A mold reflecting light and grace

One drawing to a better place

Where love and sacrifice we bring

And Christ will reign supreme as king.

Tuesday

My Jesus, Lord, I come today

Another word, another day

Another prayer to see Your will

Another page with love to fill.

The tempter tries to draw away

And lure me in another way

With any thought to spur the mind

Exploring rabbit holes I find.

But You, I know, have food for me

Sometimes it takes a bit to see

But when I ponder what You say

I find Your food to last the day.

Today you warn of blinded guides

And all who lead astray besides

With outside clean and rotten core

They play the virgin when the whore.

Camel swallowed, gnat be strained

When evil in the heart retained

I overlook the plank to see

The splinter that's annoying me.

If I but see my health within

On life support because of sin

I must repent and turn around

To make one lost as one that's found.

Wednesday

A firm foundation Lord You laid

And with their lives Apostles paid

Three years of seeing all You did

And in Your final hour they hid.

But these You chose to pass along

The faith to which I now belong

You filled them with the Spirit's grace

Then all would execution face.

But not before the world was changed

And thoughts of God were rearranged

The God of love had come to earth

So sinful men could have new birth.

How oft rejected though it be

The word would set the masses free

But wicked ones so steeped in sin

Would kill than rather change begin.

Give me, oh Lord, the strength to die

And not from suffering to shy

That always may Your will be served

And grant me mercy undeserved.

Thursday

Thank you to all who will feast on His word

And thank you to those who act on what's heard.

No greater the blessing than knowing the Lord

The gift that the poorest of poor can afford.

It gives me great joy to see in my tribe

A love for the Lord that is hard to describe

A love that will humble and sacrifice much

Giving always the best with the gentlest touch.

Bring the young to the Lord in your everyday lives

See that love of His beauty and majesty thrives

Open the way for the young to believe

And grace from above you both will receive.

Carry on with the faith, be a force for the good

Model for all, the One nailed to the wood.

My joy be abundant for all of your tribe

The joy of the Lord that is hard to describe.

Friday

Through the foolish, not the wise

Man will see with clearer eyes

See the truth that love proclaims

And the sinfulness that shames.

Wise are often foolish though

Unprepared for where they go.

Helpless to the time endure

Wanting love, but immature

Find the oil fill the lamp

In the word of God encamp

Know not when the time is near

Filled, await Him not in fear.

Saturday

He chooses weak confounding wise

The low before the prideful eyes

The humble docile He endows

For in their hearts does love arouse.

The wise and learned fade away

When looked upon that final day

For all that counts when earth is gone

Is did I pass the faith along.