The Post

Vantage. Overlooking the dream world where pain and presence collide to elucidate the road ahead. While in reflection the days of toil gone to yesteryear are used to pave the path forward. Where does change occur? How does time record our version, especially when perspectives disagree? Left to reminisce about things we thought would be guaranteed as future.

Climbed as high as the buttress allowed. Howling wind, masking the express attempt to find the right breathing. Pursuing change as salvation from the circumstance. Illustrious, forbidden, reclined and supine before the willful hand of this man’s resolve. Overtaken by snippets and sequence, repositioning to withstand collision on the gantry. Toes bent back in negative rise as white as the dawn remembered.

The son kissed my cheek in the morning light. Purpose. Harmony, chords working feverishly to repeat the masterpiece we were of told at premiere. Small violet diamonds. In sweeping measure, we doubted our reprieve, so we hid in silence praying for slumber. What came next was the real surprise. As eagles glide never giving way the true focus at the pinnacle of grand arc.

This sentence leads nowhere, revealing nothing, aiding no one’s health or recommittal. How may compensation be due when increase is absent? is the world improved by my verbal vomit or nonsensical revisitation of yesterday’s nightmare and today’s perpetual ponderance? How may I molest your consideration with peppermint folly, meant to linger daily making mockery of reason, sans recourse. Is there enough salve to mend my good conscience?

It worked. My short efforts to show you all of my worst qualities have somehow broken the spell of false adoration. I have rarely been the apple for anyone’s eye to capture in focus. Preferring the odd geometric fruits as pomegranate or pear, never dreaming of watermelon and leechee. I prefer to remain unknown in context and prism. Relegating myself to the least equipped for dancing, meal or praise. Finding perfect pose at the foot of understanding. Powerless by choice. Hopeful beyond the depths of the world.

Time the opponent

The glorious anticipation of a life well lived walking hand in hand with God and those He has chosen in family. Looking forward is lovingly regarded with hope as opposed to the learning examples of past. Into this new stream, pond or village I commit every effort to the forwarding of God’s intention for all of us. There is no pure estimation only attempts, failures, capitulation or committal. All will be found in good furrow.

There are few that I would choose to ride beside but you are the best of all of them. Don’t get me wrong I will still insist you’ve added too much salt to the soup and taken way too long at the gantry. But for my part I never was that accepted at parties or ventures. They don’t call at all till the need arises or the burden is unbearable. Prefer those who are around when the ice is sound footing or its thawed counterpart requires invested paddle and double down.

I am not the lord of all glory not even a reasonable stand in. These proclamations are not the dynamic monarchical mandates of some established bloodline for posterity. They instead are the general ramblings of a man sufficiently outside his time and way beyond his means representing powers way beyond him. To be an ambassador does not make one king, only his herald for consideration. This established, we must expect that I will from time to time, even when attempting the opposite dance firmly upon all of your toes and stare in your eyes apologetically while so doing.

In my greatest moments of calamity I will still stop to find out how you are doing and if I may remove the bricks from your pack. As you’ve so eloquently declared I am no great account of displeasure. But in the moments of pleasant regard I will fondly whisper your best qualities and tell all the world of your wonder. I am no measure of grace’s achievement only a tall teller of tales about walks far greater than my own. When fighting remember your back side is being watched by your lesser not greater. And when the porch swing canters it will be moving from the swivel of my keester.

Findings

Phased by theatrics. Morphing uncalculated. Standing on the achievements of embarrassment and hope. By what measure is my unpopular thinking the outcome of solid discussion, especially with superior? Has the calculus I’ve derived replaced good old-fashioned contemplation. Alliances ought be built freely not born of smoke plumes or lost ridges. Figuring and estimation although similar are unwed disciplines.

To this day I give my regard. Seeking no dominance or reward, I retreat to nowhere, because that is all that I own. In demonstration or folly standing may be lost when contemplating how to capture the keys to any city. Upon reliance the true standing of character is determined. Wax and polish may cover up blemishes, but scratched paint is not simply an issue of detail. Below the surface lurk to tidings of giants and the shame that bore Rome to irrelevance. Rust happens whether you were looking or unattentive.

Morays and forays, all things take a tussle to muster. Showing up for hostage return is akin to testimony. Waylaid by the foremade, anticipating the drawing board inconclusive. That staircase returns to this escalator which takes that elevator to unlisted floors on the schematic. In devious reply I asked for the maker’s deposit. Only after careful review was my name even mentioned once when reading the roster. All foster for evidence must be exchanged for reason at back forty.

Which painting will you offer at auction? What thoughts are justified by conclusion? What analysis bears loose the gravel of deepened understanding? Into which pond would you dive intending moments upon bottom? To what state do we relate when we relegate ourselves to a particular date? At whose prom was I expected so early? Into the night I bought passage across the pond everlasting to rule in the dawn of good candidates. At the farm we grow things often dark and dangerous but most frequently eternal.

As I pondered, I watched, and the sight of all things brought me favor. There were no Herculean efforts only meager attempts at good standing, but my footing was improperly intended. The sliding confiding in unexpected friends the fears and follies in my aspiration. To find adequate divorce we use remorse, guilt or argument. Deploying confidantes our shadow was challenged at each entry. To find relief we sold all but the dog of our findings.

Frontiers depth is only marked twain in the crossing. Our rivers never lead to the sea but find depth and pooling in the valley of our regret. Unto good posture all means and muscle must be dedicated. In reaching new heights old breathing must be surrendered. As I found the hand holds the footing departed. A river runs dry at its source and full of fury when the power depends upon its choices. Into my mind’s eye I plunged the sharp stick of my idiocy. There were no new agers in attendance to remember.

New Love

When I tell you that I love you what have I created, furthered, promised or manipulated? We would inherently assume that hearing from a pastor that he loves everyone would be received with understanding, edification and clarity. However, each person has their own perspective, and many possess filters, some unhealthy wounds through which this adherence to God’s Principles of loving Christ’s Body is somehow misinterpreted or redirected to fulfill some internal drive, yearning or expectation of romantic proportions. God told me to love everyone, He didn’t tell me to say it to people so that their emotional requirement to hear that fulfills some unmet need for validation or romantic pursuance.

I am speaking to those many out there who do not understand the purity of Christ’s Love for you. He died that you may be set free from an enemy over which you had no control but the gift of Grace God has offered to all men. We are not vulnerable to attacks of this enemy having invited the Holy Spirit to reside in our hearts. This love is beyond anything that I can even imagine in my male pursuit for a mate. Therefore, pursuing the understanding of how God Loves and subsequent love from a Pastor to the Flock, even a mate would benefit enormously from the transition to man-centered understanding and potential ungodly pursuits with a Pastor’s own wicked fleshly heart. A Pastor must kneel before God before he may stand before a wife proclaiming undying love.

We are new creatures no longer simple subjects to the gods of this world even with regard to love. When Pastor’s forget this they become arrogant and foolish holding closed door meetings with members of the opposite sex believing themselves somehow risen above the testing of their own souls. There is no hierarchy in the Christian Church, no man is given more of the Spirit of God than any other and thus all men must be vigilant, diligent and sober minded to defense against the potential for lapses, falls and sin.

This requires, demands that when a Pastor is considering a romantic love leading to discussion of marriage that he love with God’s Love, putting aside his own predilection to foolish action, embraced by the flesh. There must be special regard to dedication in purity and no false proclamation of love or the potential thereof which may subject a woman whom God loves completely to the deception of a man. Let’s face it Adam blamed his disobedience first upon Eve and then upon God Himself. The mistakes made in my life are mine alone and so the departure from making those mistakes is also mine. The anointing must come first and in that anointing a willingness no even dedication to doing the right thing for all those in the Body, especially one who shares the potential for a healthy marriage. I am not beyond the errors of man and stand diligently against my own propensity to make sinful mistakes when not armored by God’s Holy Spirit against them.

I crave a life walked within proximity to the Holy Spirit. Departure for even a moment in manly confidence is opening avenue for access by the enemy’s deceptive power under any authority given him by God. I saw Job tested, a man who had by sight done nothing wrong and this led in my view to the only mistake he made, believing his own righteousness sufficient before God. God does not tempt me but He sure does use this world and my own tendencies to put me in situations that will test and consequently sanctify me by the power of battle bruises. Any of us who is serious in their Christian determination would agree that it is typically ourselves, our expectations, attitudes and dalliances that lead us directly into the most effective lessons. Therefore, the key is walking with the Spirit, IN the Spirit, consciously for as long as it may be maintained and even beyond through Spirit’s miraculous participation in our walk of sanctification.

So, is there ever going to be a marriage for this Pastor. Possibly, God willing and God’s Planning would have to create that union. For my part I must honor all women as His Daughter’s, not unique, all unique. That requires demands that until such time as a marriage is indicated by God’s Holy Spirit that I remand myself to offering and accepting the love of God with each of you. To do otherwise is deceptive, foolish and unloving. So, when I tell you I love you that what it means that God has filled me, washed me, adopted me, anointed me, provisioned and protected me to utilize His gifting to support, edify and encourage you to fulfill His design for your Life in bringing honor, glory and praise to His Holy Name. That is what He wants of me, that is what you want of me. Anything else will be revealed by His direction in His Timing for His Glory. I will not force, deceive nor participate in my own departures from that understanding. No matter how much my flesh says otherwise, for it like the enemy are no longer in Control of my Eternal Life Reborn.

Conspicuously Conscious

The windowless well of my expected descent. Down into the recollection and reminiscing of the days before salvation. Not to champion a life poorly navigated, rather to recall the massive debt that was forgiven when the Lord climbed up on to that Tree. Some men owe, some men want debts cancelled, especially those which are massively unpayable. I never want to forget the darkness from whence I emerged free from burden, care, worry and wrath. You suffered God’s Wrath and His separation so that I, praise Him, may never feel that eternal pain.

Do you see the light of the World and its embers burning in the fire of my baptized heart? Do you see the image of Christ and the fruits of spirit emanating from my visage eternal? Do you see the shining smiles of love’s realization upon the faces of those who I am feeding or sustaining in prayer? What is mercy but the extension of the hand God first offered me from that damp, silent prison? Where to next walking the path of light into the future, knowing fully that this is not my end but only my beginning?

What exponential hope emits, projected upon a future pregnant with Divine Opportunities designed for me by God? How many faces and hearts will I encounter as I collect and store the human treasures and experiences up for myself in heaven? How many may I forgive or will perhaps forgive me leaving me cleansed of tragic unforgiveness and tarnished works of regret? How blessed is a life that is viewed in contentment as the preparedness floor for the next chapter? I ponder the efficacy of God’s Spirit through a man fully committed and made available for all God’s Good Pleasure.

Oh, fine God in Heaven, my Father, My God and King. Please let this be my epitaph of temporary participation. Please take my crowns for I deserve and want nothing but the eternal life you’ve given. Being your kin is the greatest reward this or any man encounters. Don’t really care what comes as a result of this epoch. Simply happy and overjoyed to spend it with you. I mean truthfully, that means I this boot boy have made it to everlasting. Being a man eternal whether behind you in service or kneeling at the throne is more than enough for me. Praise Honor and Glory to the name above all names. May my worship continue to be true, my words righteous, my heart clean and my works designed for your maximum glory.

Always

Way too eager to stop this hypnotic thinking. Preposterous imagination, colorful, commanding, mesmerizing and avatar. Almost as if I have ignored the real to insert my own invention or imaginary universe and it is so real that am forced to deny or curse every bit of sound evidence asserted as reason. Oh, how comforting this world where everyone agrees with all that I say and do. I think I can get used to this and feel justified in corrupting or jettisoning everyone who will not wear their shirt or speak their lines on cue.

Would you like me to explain once again. While you are just doing it, take a sip, another hit and read something so salacious that your tongue fights back in pronouncing the words. When did we decide that freedom is any fool acting out every whim that convinces him or her of its worthiness? Some things are right and most just are plain wrong, you know it, I know it, but you want to hold my family, job and prayer hostage so that I agree with the lies you would force upon the world. NO.

Children are children because God wants them to be for as long as they need to shape themselves for maturity and abundant life. The Light Has Come into the World. No we do not agree that darkness is a passion worthy of pursuit. Certainly shadows, midnight and the mad sounds of the marching dark are meant to give us conflict and understanding but not to provide foundation for good living. We must once again become accustomed to acknowledge that which remains sovereign outside of the Creation He provided.

Gravity, Time, weak, strong, forces and mass/acceleration govern the movement and the silence of bodies, plasma, matter and space. They are not but elements, tools, boards, nails and energy formed in a specific set of parameters that they provide the spinning top, the Kaleidescope, diorama, mobile. If I find a way to cancel gravity or to claim it has no control over my universe it does not make it truth or adjust reality. I have simply found a way to change the things that God made, most often to my demise and negative effect upon the universe. I have not mastered the atom if I manage to disturb it to shattering. I have simply let the lion out of the cage.

Saunter

On the solemn road of refresh and reform, nothing normal, all exceptional. Faithfully reviewing the ladder of reformation to arrive at this position. What shall be said? Something merciful, kind and edifying or the biting tones of winter wind? Children withdraw in shock at the pace and mirror of her outrage. Water’s calm, fields bright green, lanes leading to righteous regard. Forgive us please for remembering a bit too late for encouragement.

Where is freedom tested but, in those moments, when we try something unfamiliar and seemingly invent the courage to go forward. Holding our breath we check the oven, slowly retreating from the simmering heat hopeful that all is as it should be. Patronage and porridge, large honeyed dobs and spoonsful of creamy goodness. We never expected to be living so cavalier, pretending that nothing was beyond achievement. What has come over us?

Infrequent in my doubting and faithful in my footfalls, I stand at water’s edge mimicking the slow dancing ebbs of fish hiding from surface hungers. What should be revealed but the weakest points in thinking and the need for some improvement. Yet we cringe at self-evaluation, believing somehow that we should miss reflection. What then is the purpose of this short living? There are always packages to be delivered and the good word in short notes of loving kindness. What then delays our making its acquaintance.

To winds I surrender, blown to the edge of the sea, mud daubers and sand pipers tasting the salty spray looking for tomorrow as it steals time from today. Hidden bottles and baskets of wisdom float by on the waves as no one wondered. Policing ourselves we found timidity and shame. Over and again the breeze refreshed its pester, blowing baubles and hair into our mouths and eyes. As winter’s old man had finally given up the ghost with spring approaching. The sleepy rockstars of dawn and dream stole the show from midnight.

Longing

Prone. Invited, enticed, predilection, propensity, Romanticized, lured, revealed, constrained, imprisoned, captured, wanton, incognizant, damaged, seduced, deceived, barren, hopeless. The sick and the dying surround. Moans of grandeur, doom and lust for one drop, pinch, pill, puff, MORE. A dollar, now they want a twenty. Entitled. Frozen in time thinking oneself right with a handful of hair and a Satchel of theft in the left. They do not wish to hear none the less comply to some set of morals for beliefs gone bye.

Half nelson, choke-hold, smoldering eyes of cancer, remorseless, guileless, guiltless, shameless, proud to the bones and dryness, dead to the living and alive to nevermore. Well-formed sentences of hate and torture, without an ounce of love nor understanding therein. They wish us the long dark winter of pestilence and petrification. Sound sleep in the silence of no regret, freed of living the bring about more death, destruction, plunder and betrayal. Praying for sundown to dim the perception and set the stage for plunder.

Folks, love should not be signal to answer the expectations you’ve built in secret, but the answer to the question of why, where, when, who and how. I am not the promise of God’s hope and provision but the encouraging voice of reason and reply. The Word when heard calls to faith, when it is shaken, taken, inspected and absorbed through listening/memory it provides answers to all the questions that this temporary set of hungers are bereft in response. I cannot make anyone do anything even if it is the best thing for them. However, many will be called and few will be chosen or respond with intention and sufficient urgency.

Please do not follow me to tower or mountain. For that is a dungeon awaiting both of us. This is about freedom from the passions, promotions and promises offered in buttered rhetoric. Have you truly ever taken in breath that is free of expectation or burden. Pushing plow for who and how when the yoke was meant by the Prince to be light and filled in abundance. We are the roses and seeds of garden yet planted. A place of clear gold and transparent waters flowing beneath and everlasting throne of hope and peace. Now is the only time I have for this decision and the subsequent behavior or being reviewed by witch and maker. To hinder or help. Let us show him obedience and receive that wonderful protection, provision and promised purpose given only to the children of the King.

On the Mantle

Seems to me that we are firmly entrenched or standing on open field if you prefer with clarity, purpose and expectation of seeing the Truth of ALL prophecy revealed before the collective eye of man. Preposition forgiven as most have taken a wait and see approach to God’s Wisdom and have established reserve seating in the peanut gallery to see IF anything at all occurs. This dynamic and broadly accepted stance is dangerous at best and everlastingly foolish at worst. For when these things become evident the free will option to escape the Wrath upon wickedness will have expired.

An appropriate title for this period of humanity would be, “How deep is my arrogance?” or perhaps, “How little does my mustard seed have to be?”. Considering there is no discipline in this life that requires minimum investment of talent, treasure and time in order to be successful, we are treating God in a precarious level of irreverence. Having reserved the last bit of our energy and time to the Sovereign we believe that He would never treat us in kind. Our foolishness and disrespect are only outweighed by our absolute ignorance of the Sovereign God of Creation.

There is no such thing as a get out hell free card. These myths created, sold and renewed by the Corporate Churches set people up for the greatest disappointment known to mankind, failure to enter heaven as Christ denies He ever knew us. Matthew, the first book of the New Testament in Chapter Seven dispels any false expectation of entering heaven without the seal of Spirit and the evidence of His Fruit in each believer’s life. This is the greatest tragedy known to mankind, to somehow withstand being counted with those peculiar Christians for the suffering at the hand of mammon, only to realize He never knew you because you never repented of Your Sin and were therefore never given the Gift of Grace and filling of His Holy Spirit.

There will be insufficient numbers to count the tears that will fall during tribulation at the realization of this folly. This is especially acerbic when we consider that certainty of salvation is available and equally aspired by those who first sought Christ. He corrected all Pastoral mistake in His Gospel, targeting the religious leaders of His day with direct response regarding the failures of understanding and lack of rebirth by Spirit. There is no mystery, only the deception perpetrated by religious leaders throughout the centuries in a clear/apparent effort to keep the tithe money and bodies in the provided seats in maximization of monetary monthly intake. The enemy laughs at our loose interpretation of words that were given in such clarity that interpretation requires prostitution in size, shape and candor.

All the signs have been delivered though we were told this generation would receive none but that which was revealed to Jonah. We are in the season yet continue to plant and reap of worldly means, hope and desire without concern for the coming harvest of souls. These are not the times to mince words, count time or remain parked in pea gravel. These are the days of mankind’s faithful expression of Love and respect for God through obedience in service. I pray that all are comfortable with their salvation. I hope that all are secure in the presence of the earnest of their salvation clearly hearing and abiding the direction of Spirit. God want s to lose none of you and does not delight in a single human going to Gehenna. Why then would you choose such a thing or be swindled into leaving the gift unopened?

Choice

In the clean, bright instant of rapture. Following the feet of those who’ve gone to sleep before us. We find the fleeting seconds rewarding as they are realization of rest remembered. Into the light we leave darkness as challenge to them who never knew His name.

Trials soon diminished and brought to heel with the powerful focused joy. In the patience of time remembered, we recall the painstaking pleasure taken in our lengthy perfection. Prosperity is not a moment but an enduring measure of expansion versus scarcity.

Which theory rang true without the glaring evidence of closing argument or witness? What direction is the wind supposed to travel when I don’t want it targeting my face with the icy crystals of wayward storm? How may a shield protect its bearer left by bedside or dragged around the ankles as anchor?

The mesmerizing dream captured colors I could believe while regaling me with insight I sought to resist. What fight is worth the bruises? What word speaks clearest in the painful moment of pleasures betrayal? Are we the arbiters of wrong or the purveyors of right and truth? How best to hide in the fold or concealed in the hold when intended for bold predicament?

We doubt what the end is about because we’ve seen the doubtful beginning and listened to the baying sheep in the middle of madness. What leads me to believe it will work out poorly when this joy bespeaks my journey? At daybreak I question the provisions only to find I’ve got more than I thought I’d require.

Into love we are neither injected nor bedazzled but led. Not by potions or words of poor choosing but by the promise of comfort, support and respect for what God designed and intended. What is an effective union if not adding one to one to make a greater one? Sometimes care is given because it was ordered as Californians would acknowledge, by the Universe.

Why is hope so essential and when missing, its absence sorely abused? What is reflected in composite and myriad image if not the signature of time, air and earth? When the sea backs away what is the deafening impulse to follow its retreating wake feeling its tug upon our foundation? What lured you to dream so deeply of purity and life?