New Every Day

Fit me for the battle, Lord,
Each morn anew, when I arise
To things around me, good and bad,
Give me to see, Lord, ope' my eyes.

Dulled by sleep and night's dark shades,
My spirit cannot pray aright
'Til Thou dost quicken with Thy breath
And bring anew Thy love and light.

My spirit is so cold and dull,
It lacks the impulses to move
It needs to feel Thy touch of fire,
It needs to know that Thou art love.

Like the sun, which every morn
Doth run the race, it's course doth take,
So may I rise and look above
My soul to fill, my thirst to slake.

Some spice, some balm, some precious word
Give to me as to make my way
From this dull lowland where I dwell
To heights above, new every day.

Fields Of Diamonds

I am like a man who walks in fields of diamonds and cares for nothing more than his clothes, his house, his bread. With riches all around me, I continue blindly, pursing stones and pebbles while diamonds turn to dust. The blessings of the Lord are mine at every moment, his love, his life, his law, and I have but to look. I have but to stop and eat this living bread, I have but to drink from this life-giving stream.

And so I look to Jesus, the fairest of ten thousand, and find there all I need and more than I can hold. His riches far exceed all of this world's empty treasures, his wonders far surpass all I ever had before. His beauty is unmeasured and his grace knows of no limits, his love is like a fountain ever flowing without end, a vast uncharted ocean and I am in its center, my life caught up in his, and I am whole again.

The Open Sea

Set sail, my heart, upon the open sea,
Redeeming love's vast immensity.
Strike the sails and weigh the anchor fast;
The unknown way calls out and beckons thee.

There is a call from deep to deep today,
It stirs my blood and calls me on this way.
Though seas shall roll and skies be overcast
We'll undertake this journey come what may.

Fear not for dangers that may there be found
For we have heard love's joyful, swelling sound
Of peace and joy and love and light to last;
We'll go where such as these are to be found.

The Book shall be our compass and our guide,
The Spirit fill our sails upon the tide.
Our sail is faith, love becomes the mast;
Our rigging, hope, to cross the ocean wide.

THE CHRIST OF EVERY WAY

I get so immersed in the holidays that when they're over it's a shock to my system. This little piece came out of that experience this year.

THE CHRIST OF EVERY WAY
When Christmas was all put away …

When the decorations were returned once again to their place in the attic and the Christmas cookies had all been eaten, when the tree was sitting out at the curb waiting for the trash man, leaving a trail of tinsel down the driveway, when the presents were no longer sitting on the living room coffee table but had found homes in dressers, closets and shelves, when the Christmas Carol CD’s were back in their cases and returned to their places next to Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennet, Brahms, Beethoven and Mozart, when January 2 dawned cold and rainy and the family all had to go back to school and work …

That’s when I heard Jesus say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”

Not just for times and seasons gay …

Not just for the special days and seasons when we sense the wonder of His incarnation, the impact of His crucifixion, and the power of His resurrection; not just for the times that come already marked on our calendars, not just for occasions at church deserving choirs and cantatas and costumed plays, not just for those recurring occasions that stir our memories of childhood and times past …

If we listen we can hear Him say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”

He is there for those very ordinary days …

For those days for which nothing is written on our calendars, for those days when we wake up with a headache and get through our routines by sheer force of will, for those days that are as bland as dry toast and flat as pancakes, for those days of rushing to the emergency room with our heart in our throat, for those days when failure and frustration hang over our heads like a black cloud …


That’s when we can hear Him say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”

Not just for Bethlehem but for Nazareth as well.

Not just for the Mount of Transfiguration, but for the valley of the shadow.

Not just for the empty tomb, but for the empty heart …

He is the Christ for every day,
He is the Christ of every way.

The Magi's Gifts

What strange gifts for a little child.
Would he not rather have a top, a toy,
That he could play with as a boy?
Why bring these gifts through regions wild?

What stirred within their hearts to bring
Such presents for a peasant's babe?
What sentiments were there portrayed?
Or were they off'rings to a king?

What meaneth this strange gift of myrrh
Which does not celebrate his birth,
But puts the value and the worth
On his dying, as it were?

And why this gift of frankincense?
'Tis used in worship of our God.
And yet this babe on common sod
Is worthy such extravagance.

For gold depicts divinity, indeed;
And so the wise men, not beguiled,
Knew that Jesus, Holy Child,
Was Christ the Son, the Royal Seed.

O Jesus, Jesus, stir my heart
To bring thee gifts of precious worth
As frankincense and gold and myrrh
That I might know Thee as Thou art.

Heights and Depths

Has ever greater tale been told
Of pathos, love and loss
Than Jesus in a stable born
Then dying on a cross?

Has ever page or stage portrayed
Such all-consuming love?
Has ever in the songs of man
Such love been spoken of?

Oh, many's the tale that has been told
Of love of smitten man
For maiden fair, that did his best
That he might win her hand.

But in the Gospel tale is told -
Oh, let us praise and laud -
The bleeding love for all mankind
Of an all-loving God

For the race of fallen man
That had despised, rejected Him,
Was born, lived, died and rose again
That He might free us from our sin.

Such heights and depths of love excell
All works made here below;
But 'tis for you and 'tis for me
This love of God to know.

Revelation

We don't discover spiritual truth on our own, not the solid, lasting kind that permeates our being and sets us right. Instead, God reveals it to us by His various methods. This is seen clearly in the Christmas story where all announcement of and guidance to the birth of the Messiah came from divine sources.

Had the angel not appeared to Zacharias
Or to Mary or to shepherds in the field;
If the wise men had no eastern star to guide them

- No one would have known

That the holy Son of God had come, a Savior,
For such revelation comes from God above
To those He would desire to know this treasure;

- Thus the light is shone.

Perhaps no angels have appeared to tell you
And no star has come to'illuminate your way;
But still God would disclose to hungry seekers

- This truth from above.

And like the shepherds, or the wise, or Zacharias
God will reveal to you the wond'rous great good news
That there's a Savior born to all mankind now -

- Jesus, His Son of Love.

High and Low

Our favorite movie is "The Apostle," with Robert Duvall. He portrays an all-too-human preacher who gets on the wrong side of the law and goes on the run. He makes landfall in a little town in Louisiana where he raises up a little country church that is the epitome of the humble little temple where everyone is welcome and accepted in Jesus. That's what I had in mind when I wrote this poem.

But the poem isn't really about buildings; it speaks instead of the things we take into our beings - our pride, our possessions, our desires, and all the issues of the heart. If we will reduce ourselves, if we will decrease, then He might increase.

The great church stood in the center of town,
A place of honor and renown;
The spires reached up to the sky,
The steeple rose up twice as high.
Stained glass windows brought the light
Within, in colors pure and bright.
Rich ornaments stood all around
And decked the place from top to ground.
Candles burned in sticks of gold,
And tapestries of colors bold
Bedecked the halls and walls so fair;
There was a richness in the air.

But two miles out, just past the woods,
A humble little temple stood;
The white-washed walls had seen their day,
The parking lot was hard-packed clay.
Within, the walls were plain and bare,
The floor boards creaked, scraped smooth with wear.
One picture graced the humble hall -
The face of Jesus gazed on all.
A light, from where? from up above?
A Presence - 'twas the King of Love.
The High and Lofty One doth dwell
Where humble hearts receive him well.

Seek Him Where He Lives

At a conference over Labor Day we heard a word that greatly impacted us, bringing us a deeper sense of awareness of the Presence of the Lord. It was not part of the teacher's message, more of a casual remark as he was winding up after his message. What he said was "Don't focus on externals - focus on the internal."

I thought of how I get all caught up in circumstances and situations, news and reports, television and movies, and everything else that is external to me - bills, books, videos, etc. I let those things determine how I feel.

The speaker didn't say we have to give these things up, so it's not about asceticism. It's about replacing one thing with another. If I put my effort into ignoring external things, I'd really be focusing on them, but if I instead put my attention somewhere else then I displace the negative influence with the positive one.

Jesus, being sovereign, rules and reigns over all the earth, and He isn't worried about these situations. God never has a bad day so why should we? We, being the temple of the Holy Spirit, ought to be more mindful of His activity within us.

What has worry ever accomplished? Personally, it's only made me feel worse than I did when I woke up, and I'm quite sure it never changed the situation I worried about. (Of course, I did get to experience the relief that comes when I found out that the situation was never as bad as I thought it would be!)

I've been thinking on the fact that all the symbols of the Holy Spirit are things that move - wind, fire, rain, and so forth. He is constantly moving - we're just not aware of it. If we will focus more on Him where He lives - in our inner beings - we'll not only experience more of His Presence but also be more aligned with His purposes in the earth. Besides, we'll wake up feeling a lot better.

I think this is what it means to be in the world but not of it. We can't avoid contact with the world, we're in it face first from morning to night. But we don't have to make it the be-all and the end-all of existence. Jesus is the One we love and adore; we can become more aware of Him and His beauty by focusing on Him instead of everything else under the sun.

Very often we live under misconceptions. We pray "Holy Spirit, come." Now, that's a good prayer, but we need to be vitally aware that He's already here. He's not going to come through the roof - He's going to rise up from within us, because He has made us His habitation in the earth.

I'm still processing the significance of this and learning to walk in it. It's a wonderful adventure and a liberating thing to become disconnected from external things - even while in the midst of them - and become more focused and attached to the Source of true life. It doesn't cost anything and I can do it anytime and all the time. That's just like something God would come up with.

In The Beginning ...

I was raised in a wonderful home, with parents who loved me and provided the best for me and my older brother. I have only fond memories of my childhood.

When I met my future wife, it was love at first sight. She brought two wonderful sons to the marriage, and we had a little girl.

Our daughter was in trouble from the beginning, with a near fatal condition that required emergency surgery when she was only six days old. My whole world was up in the air and I thought it would crash all around me into millions of little pieces. Nothing I had ever wanted in life mattered any more, only one thing - that she could live and not die.

I prayed for the first time in my life the night before the surgery. There wasn't anything we wanted more than the life of that little girl. Actually, I didn't know how to pray - I just sat before God with the desperation of my heart lifted up to Him. Pat knew the Lord's prayer, and said that.

Our daughter was miraculously healed; when the doctor opened her up the next day, he found that the situation had dramatically changed overnight and radical surgery was not required. He called it a miracle and wrote it up in medical journals. She was born November 11 and we finally brought her home on New Year's Day.

We knew then that God answered desperate prayer and intervened in human affairs. We began to follow Him as best we knew how, which wasn't very good, but God knew our hearts. We didn't equate Jesus with God; we had heard a Gospel invitation at a concert, but rejected it as being too - I don't know, it was too much of something and not enough of something else. I guess it wasn't intellectual enough, it seemed more like an emotional appeal. The music at the concert was very much to my liking, and the preaching by the host pastor was about how God had healed his child. I'm sure a seed was planted that night, even against my best efforts to reject it. God's Word did not return to Him void.

A year and a half later, after getting in bed for the night, I heard the name of Jesus spoken in my ear three times. When I woke up, I was living in the midst of a seeming cloud of light, love and peace. I didn't know what it was, although I felt sure that if Jesus were real, this is what He'd be like.

Sitting at my desk at work later that morning, I heard Him speak again saying "I am Jesus." The Lord had sovereignly invaded my life. I wasn' looking for that, I didn't ask for that, but I'm so glad that God knew what I really needed and wanted.

That night I told my wife "Let me tell you what happened to me today." She answered "No honey, let me tell you what happened to me. Jesus came into my heart today."

We were both touched by the Good Sheperd's hand that night as we slept. We were both born again the same night, in the same way.

Ever since that day we have been vitally aware that Christianity is more than ceremonies and forms but that God is a person with whom we can have a relationship. The driving force in our lives has been our firm belief that God wants to bring that relationship to full fruition this side of heaven and not leave us in the initial stages or any other stage in between. This is a life of going on, going on, and going on. We have often been tempted to lay the quest aside and settle down on this side of Jordan, but the stirrings in our hearts for better things bade us keep moving.

Always ahead of us was the vision of the fullness of Christ in our hearts by the Spirit. We knew disappointments and failures but kept going on, because the promise of the prize outweighed the pain and frustrations of the journey.

How many have settled by the wayside instead of pressing on to be the Lord's Zion, His habitation in the earth? (Psalm 132:15). Material success eluded us, but no matter, for that's not where our hearts were. They were seeking that Zion, that city not made with hands.

More to come ...

Incredible Journey

Every so often we hear a tale of a beloved family pet left behind in a move to another part of the country who makes its way across prairies, through cities, and over mountains to finally be rejoined to the family it loves. It shows up at the door matted and bloodied but with tail wagging (if it's a dog, not a cat) and falls into the open arms of its loved ones. How they do it, no one knows.

We are on such a journey, from where the Lord found us to where He wants to take us. It's a journey over mountains and dark valleys, through storms and trials. It's the Holy Spirit that guides us and keeps us on course as we falteringly make our way to our true home, the mountain of the house of the Lord.

I want to share some about that journey - how the Lord found us and how He has led us and where He has brought us to, and by His grace I'll post on this every so often.

If you still check this blog after so many weeks of inactivity - thank you.

Next post: In the beginning ....

Back Home

We got back from Paraguay Friday morning. It was a wonderful trip, one I'll never forget. My heart is still there, in that land with these people we have come to love.

They reach out and touch you with a love that's genuine and sincere. They have so little in comparison to our overabundance but they are rich in ways we need to learn. We have a worldview that puts us at the center of the universe, but there are precious people all over the world that have much to teach us.

We renewed and strengthened friendships we made last year. We saw prodigals come back to the Lord with enough tears to fill the ocean. We shared on unity, leadership, and being men and women of God. We worshipped together in wonderful freedom and joy in the Lord.

We worked on the church building - tearing down one wall and building another, painting, carrying bricks and cement, and a hundred other assorted construction jobs.

And we ate - oh, did we eat.

Finally it was time to leave. There were hugs and tears and smiles and sadness and joy at the airport, with promises to write and keep in touch.

Next year we'll go again. I know we will.

God Known By Loving Him

We leave Tuesday for Paraguay. I'm looking to touch God's heart amid the building, painting, worship and fellowship, and to hopefully touch someone else's heart to seek Him and know Him better.

This is a poem by Jeanne Guyon.

'Tis not the skill of human art,
Which gives me power my God to know;
The sacred lessons of the heart
Come not from instruments below.

Love is my teacher, He can tell
The wonders that He learnt above:
No other master knows so well; -
This Love alone can tell of Love.

Oh! then, of God if thou wouldst learn,
His wisdom, goodness, glory see;
All human arts and knowledge spurn,
Let Love alone thy teacher be.

Love is my master. When it breaks,
The morning light, with rising ray,
To thee, O God! my spirit wakes,
And Love instructs it all the day.

And when the gleams of day retire,
And midnight spreads its dark control,
Love's secret whispers still inspire
Their holy lessons in the soul.

It's A Go!

The Paraguay trip is back on again for July 25 through August 4th. Turns out that Sao Paulo, where we would go to change planes for Asuncion, is in the grip of gang violence. We feel God spared us from that. We will be going from Miaim to Buenos Aires, then on to Asuncion.

Even if we hadn't learned of the situation in Sao Paulo, God is good in all His dealings. I was disappointed at first in the cancellation of the trip, but don't want to accuse God anymore of unfaithfulness in His dealings with me. He is to be trusted at all times.

It's a misconception of His innately good character to level accusations at Him in the form of worry, anxiety, anger, depression, and all the rest. Either He's in control or He isn't - and He is. Either He's good or He isn't - and He is.

3 Grands - Mike, Dan and Sarah

Almost Time

It's almost departure time for Paraguay. There will be 18 of us going to the Vineyard (Viña) church in Asunción, the capital city. We built a relationship last year with the church and we have that to link to and build on this year.

Last year we experienced an incredible move of the Holy Spirit in Paraguay; my hope and desire is that this fountain be opened again for all who are thirsty, not only in South America but in our local churches here as well. This was more than the Sunday morning blessing, more than a "touch" from the Lord; this was the manifested Presence of a holy and loving God fellowshipping with His people in power and great glory.

Our ministry focus will be on becoming men and women of God and on unity in the body. People in the church are mostly all very young - teens and very early twenties - with some 30-somethings scattered around. The only married couple is the pastor and his wife.

Please pray for open hearts and the ministry of the Holy Ghost. I'll surface again when we get back.


Nick

Still Alive

I'm still alive, and I haven't retired from globbing. If you've been coming by, then thanks a lot.

I've been biking and walking a lot, studying classical guitar (I need to get serious and learn all the notes on the fingerboard instead of just the first 3 frets), trying to revive my calligraphy, reading, and enjoying all this free time with my beloved. We were always best friends, and now it's even better. Some people ask if she ever gets tired of having me around and she says "Heck no, we waited 40 years for this."

We're busier than ever in our latino church since the pastor is away for 2 weeks on vacation. And we're preparing to return to Paraguay the last half of next month.

Went to Promise Keepers with my younger son. PK is a great thing for fathers and sons to do together.

Our youngest granddaughter is coming for a week, so we'll keep Charlotte's restaurant and movie industries gainfully employed during that time. I probably won't post during that time, and I won't post during the Paraguay trip. But I'll be back in August.


Nick

The Warrior

After I retired I was cleaning out drawers and cabinets and came across this poem that I had written years ago. It correctly states, I think, the nature of the battle we are in, which begins with the transformation of character, as per Proverbs 16: 32: "He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." I can't say the battle is over, which could be inferred from the end of the poem - it's an ongoing, uphill climb, but there are new victories every day as I relinquish control and and stand still and see the salvation of the Lord.

I stand amid the carnage of a battle fierce and strong;
I am wounded, I am weary, and the fight is oh, so long.
The smoky pall of battle hangs o'er the bloody field,
The rubble and the ruin lie where the battle raged and reeled.

The fallen here are many, the field is filled with blood;
The enemy has come in like a mighty, swelling flood.
A mighty, swelling army, and I cannot prevail;
Advancing, riding o'er me; I fall and surely fail.

But I look out throught the rubble, through the wreckage and the strife
And I see one fighting for me - He is fighting for my life.
Above the noise of battle, this battle fierce and strong,
I can hear a measured cadence as the Warrior sings His song.

As I gaze out through the pallor of the battle's bloody tide
I can see that He is wounded in His hands and feet and side.
But death could never hold Him, it could never be His loss;
On high He holds a banner, on the banner is a cross.

In His hands He holds a sword of burnished, gleaming steel;
The enemy lies fallen as He thrusts it where He will.
The enemy lies fallen, each in their killing place;
As I look out through the pallor I can see each has my face.

The enemies within me that used to rage and roar
Are fallen now forever; I'll fight with them no more.
Stilled, the noise of battle, dead my raging foe,
Conqueror, my Captain; His I am, I know.

The war is finally over, the smoke of battle clears;
The Warrior binds my wounds and dries away my tears.
We walk away together from the battle's heat,
Arm in arm forever - His victory is sweet.

"If it be bliss, as it really is, to possess all that we desire and wish, the individual that possesses true godliness must be truly blessed, because he unites his will with God's which is always accomplished. Formerly he was pained and tormented in the infernal flame of his own will, which rendered him so frequently dissatisfied. One thing or another was always wrong, in the opinion of his perverse self-will. He writhed and agonized day and night, within himself, in doleful apprehension, care, grief, uneasiness, and anxiety, like a gnawing worm to the injury of both body and soul. Now he has entirely and unconditionally resigned his will in the exercise of real faith, and thorough self-denial, into the hands of God, in such a manner that the will of God alone influences and operates in him, by which the soul is placed in a tranquil and very peaceful state."

~Gerhard Tersteegen

Soil not thy plumage, gentle dove,
With sublunary things,
Till in the fount of light and love
Thou shalt have bathed thy wings.

Shall nature from her couch arise
And rise for thee in vain?
While heaven, and earth, and seas, and skies,
Such types of truth contain?

See - where the sun of Righteousness
Unfolds the gates of day:
Go - meet Him in His glorious dress
And quaff the orient ray.

There, where ten thousand seraphs stand,
To crown the circling hours -
Soar thou - and from that blissful land
Bring down unfading flowers:

Some Rose of Sharon, dyed in blood,
Some spice of Gilead's balm,
Some lily washed in Calvary's flood,
Some branch of heavenly palm!

And let the drops of sparkling dew
From Shiloh's spring be shed,
To form a fragrance fresh and new,
A halo round thy head.

Spread thou thy plumes of faith and prayer
Nor fear to wend away,
And let a glow of heavenly air
Gild every earthly day.

~Brydges