Expected Usefulness


My left foot works just fine.  

When I want to open the door, mindlessly, I command my hand to turn the knob and the door opens.


If I want to see where I’m going, all I have to do is raise my eyelids.  


Like almost everyone else, I don’t see the miracle of this very often. My body is slave to my mind. There’s no need for pageantry regarding the foot, hand or eyelids.  But let any of these be injured so that they don’t work as they should, you’ll find me quite concerned for the welfare of my body.  


The apostle John said “The true light, coming into the world, that gives light to every man”.


The light. Have we become complacent about righteousness?  Have we begun to treat it like our body?  We take for granted that we know what is right to do.   Where did we get that knowledge?


Complacency quickly evaporates when we realize we have done something stupid and violently broke the laws of God.  


When is it the proper time to fall on our knees and give thanks that God himself has placed righteousness in our minds and hearts?  Without the Lord Jesus we would immediately fall into disrepair (No matter whether you believe in him or not.).

Confusion Blooms


“Settle down old ragged beating heart.  Remember the Truth He spoke to those who are His.  Visit the testimony within you.  “Glory and peace belongs to the Glorious One alone.”  His name is ALL Good things.   His Holy name is Jesus.  

Presently, it’s our time to suffer and die.

Look to His Day!   The Promised Consoling is traveling to you, even now.  See how you remember this.  WORK!  You untrustworthy, broken, unrighteous, and chaotic mess of tangled thoughts; errant miscreant that you are.  REMEMBER!”

7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.  (2 Corinthians 4)

Of Heart and Mind


English: Anatomy of the Tony Walsh, in English...

English: Anatomy of the Tony Walsh, in English, by Ties van Brussel / http://www.tiesworks.nl (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You are God and all Your Holy ways are perfect!  I see You beyond the pages of Your Holy book.  I can point to You for the sake of man.  But the difference between the mind and heart strikes me hard.

“. . . all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”  What is love among men?  I love you!  But “The heart is deceitful above all things  and beyond cure.  Who can understand it?”  What is love among the members of my body?

You asked Your servant Peter, “Do you love me?”  He was cut to the heart to realize that love was not complete within his heart.  How am I any different?

“If You can.” The man said to You.  And Your reply was indignant, as You have a right to be at un-belief.  I do not say to You, “If You can.”  I ask You to DO IT.  If You must cut me in half so that my mind comes near my heart, then DO IT!

What is the love of man for the Beauty that is Jesus, the Son of the Most High God?  The love of man for his God appears in the form of DOING IT.  “And He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, “So, you men could not keep watch with Me for one hour?” 

My God.  My God!  Tear this lack of love from the very heart of me!  Rend me apart and seek that place of restraint.  I beg You to open the door and let me walk through.  I do not ask You this for the sake of my salvation.  I ask You to do this because You deserve the right to receive praise and adoration from the people You have gained the right to own.

I hate my mind.  I am jealous of its bounty.  It holds what is true and keeps it from my heart.  Or is it, perhaps, this way:  I hate my heart!  For it has little interest in the fire the mind offers.  God in Heaven, have mercy on this fool that I might understand with the heart as well as the mind.

By His Grace.

The Temporal Unhinged


A spectrogram of the phrase "I owe you"

A spectrogram of the phrase “I owe you” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As I reflect on what I have become, because the Living God has called me to dance for Him in “The way”, I see without perception.  He has granted me, and all His people, senses that yearn to grasp what man cannot perceive alone.

The things of man do not entice me anymore.  A language foreign dresses my tongue, often.  The “mind” He has granted seeks for what is unseen, unspoken, and unfelt.  I look for these things among those I meet.  I constantly look for the signs of brotherhood in a place of individualism.  I search for that unity of the Spirit of God among men.  Rarely do I find it.

All this teases, prods, and provokes, all day long and through the night.  Because I do not find what He teaches me to desire among men does not mean it is not there.  Even I restrain my tongue while I am among them.  What is revealed by the hand of God among his people is hidden from the eyes of those who do not care to ask.

If they asked I would show them this place.  But no one asks.  When they speak to me they speak of things of man.  But no one asks regarding the things of God.  I do not hold this against them.  I too once kept to the things of this world.  But now a way beyond this place attends my very soul.

Of Animals and Pens


Rodent

Rodent (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

a ball point blue ink pen.

a ball point blue ink pen. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The pen sat on the drawing board; waiting to be used.  Outside the window roamed an animal; waiting to be tamed.  All was ready and waiting.

The writer awoke.  Stretching his limbs, he committed himself to the routine which has been his way since he was a child.  All was prepared for him before the dawn.  Unaware of the gift prepared for him, the writer made a pot of coffee.  A simple pen, and a tiny animal, were about to change his life forever.

With coffee in hand he went to the window to see what the day had brought to the living picture before him.  His eyes looked at the sun, hidden behind a cloud.  He traced the skyline down from the hills and to the place he called his yard.  The animal came into view and he considered its movements.  Pondering what the animal was doing, it came to him about how men tame animals.

Men will capture an animal and teach it to feed from what they provide.  He considered how man will care for the animal in every possible way and with great care to its needs.  His mind saw how men will draw cartoons of things not real.  And how they contrive amazing imagination to represent the life we all live.  These two thoughts sat still in his mind.  They waited like faithful little dogs, panting and waiting to be noticed.

Then it dawned in his mind to write.  With his eyes opening wide with understanding, his hand quickly pulled out the chair and sat at the desk.  He had something to write, something of great importance.  Yet the pen did not find its proper place in the fingers of the man’s hand.  Something was consuming his attention and the pen was not useful at the moment.  He looked again at the animal.  Then the thought began to unravel from that tightly wound ball of twine called mystery.

A man will tame an animal.  He may teach it to act out some characteristics of man.  Perhaps a parrot will be taught to mimic the sounds of a man.  But it is not a real man.  The animal simply becomes a trinket for all to marvel at.  Yet he cares for it dearly, as if it were a tiny man.

Thoughtlessly for a moment, his eyes slid down.  They came to rest on the pen, gleaming in the sunlight.  He perceived that a man might draw the semblance of a man.  And he might cause it to move through animation.  In this animation he might give the drawing words to speak.  And people will marvel at the message which comes from stacked papers in the form of moving creatures.  Even grown men will enjoy the visage.  But it is not real.  It is the imagination of a man to another man.  And the message is the important “real” character.  Just as the tamed animal is taught what is “real” from its trainer.  Both become a message to another man.

And as the man thought of these things he understood the reason for this train of thoughts.  And a sound inaudible filled his soul as words were remembered.  “What is man that you are mindful of him.”  At this noise of silent remembrance he stopped thinking and looked up with eyes that did not perceive anything at all.  He now looked with his soul to grasp the un-graspable meaning.  Nothing of man moved in his mind.

Now he watched something grow before him.  He allowed it to take shape as if it were some kind of being.  He had something on the very tip of his soul.  It beckoned to be held and examined.  And he perceived that this artifact was a beautifully arranged understanding.

He heard, with his soul, what was said before all that is was made:  “Let us make man in our image.”  His mind awoke and asked a question, “Why?”  The answer came in a flash of understanding.  And he knew, without a doubt, that he had heard something valuable.  “For the same reason you tame an animal or pen a creature with human traits.  You do these things to contain a message to your brothers.”

Awe struck him and he considered silently for a while.  “What could this really mean?  How do I create words from man who will utter what I have just heard?  These things are beyond ability to string letters together.”  And his hand only moved to bring the cup to his lips.  The pen lay still, still waiting to be used.

After a moment of reflection on what he had just perceived to be true, the man reached out for the pen.  Quickly now, write.  Write with deft words, trying hard to capture the image into words his brothers might understand.

Summation is all he could manage to write.  There are no words to describe the “vision” of his soul.  He wrote this:  “You are a message to my lovely Son.  I love Him and will dress Him in fine clothes.  Though His Righteousness has been challenged, I will prove Him Myself.  He will rule for My sake.  And you are to worship Him.  I have decreed this message to Him through living creatures.  They will bend their desire to submit to Him.  And I will grant them as a gift, as a token of my love for Him.  I will place these creatures in a place where they will be tested, so that they will prove their worth.  For I will not give my Son something valueless.  Any of these creatures, who desire to become part of this gift, will call out to Me.  I will teach them My ways so that they might be clothed in appropriate dress for a great wedding.  I will present them to Him, for He has earned the right to marry.  He will be your God.  And you will be His people.  So it is.  So I have purposed.  So it will become.”

And now the writer sat still.  This day had begun as all the others.  Yet this message, this understanding, was transforming in value.  And nothing could be done but to worship the One who just gave him something eternal.