Slaughter, stench, starvation
Death at every doorstep
Seeks out every soul kept
Screams of insanity
Searching for humanity
Hell is real.
Evil strikes at will
But Love cannot be still
It shakes you to the core
Makes you seek what Life is for
Cry aloud all of my being
For the things that you are seeing
Let’s pray together for peace in Syria.
We cannot be silent before our God.
“Every now and then I think about my own death, and I think about my own funeral. … Every now and then I ask myself, ‘What is it that I want said?’ I’d like somebody to mention that day, that Martin Luther King Jr., tried to give his life serving others. I’d like for somebody to say that day, that Martin Luther King Jr., tried to
– Martin Luther King Jr., from his sermon
“The Drum Major Instinct”
(Feel free to listen while you’re reading.)
YOU ARE MY SHELTER by Elisha’s Request
I received this devotional from a good missionary friend of mine the other day, and it suddenly seems relevant to the discussion at hand. Please take the time to read it, and apply as necessary.
Come Before Winter
“Be diligent to come to me quickly; for Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world, and has departed for Thessalonica-Crescens for Galatia, Titus for Dalmatia.” 2 Timothy 4:9,10
“Come before winter.” These words have been rehearsing in my heart and spirit for weeks now. When Paul penned these words he was in prison. The cold chill of abandonment was upon him. He recounts how he was deserted in his faithful quest to preach the Gospel. Those who had been with him in the journey, those trusted friends had abandoned him. So his plea is to his most faithful disciple: “Come quickly and come before winter.” He needed his cloak and he needed his parchments. His time was short, death was drawing near.
I wonder if you and I can identify with Paul’s sentiments? No, we aren’t in a damp, cold and dark prison. Not in a natural sense. But there are many prisons. Some of us have been hurt severely by those we trusted most. And if we aren’t careful the winter of the heart can set in. It’s the season of the heart when it gets bitter cold. The sunshine becomes dimmer and dimmer. All the love and passion you have grown in your heart could be frosted over. And once that happens death isn’t far off. Does this seem extreme to you? It doesn’t to me. I have seen the face of bitterness on loved ones. I have also seen it in the mirror. It has a look all its own. It’s tense and hard and its poison springs forth in very short notice. It also cripples the person under its curse.
If anyone could have been victim to the winter of the heart it was Paul. Yet Paul knew the cure. Even with death at his door literally Paul chose to move forward. He encouraged Timothy and the church. He pleads with Timothy not to forget the gift the Lord has given him. Next he decides to allow the Lord to judge those who hurt him. He knew that only the Lord is the perfect judge of the heart of man. He asks that this abandonment not be held against them. Lastly, he proclaims faith in God’s goodness toward him. He knows that the Lord will strengthen him and preserve him for His Heavenly Kingdom.
Perhaps you are in the spring season of the heart. All that springs forth is good and loving and delightful. Please be mindful of those around you. If you see a brother or sister in pain take time to pray for them. Pray that the Holy Spirit will come quickly for them. Pray that He guards their heart from the cancer of bitterness. Pray He comes before winter. Paul asked for his cloak. We can ask that the Lord cover those we love with His cloak of love and righteousness. Only His covering will protect their hearts.
Father, guard our hearts from anything that is not of you.
Written By: Laurie L. Ferris
This is the devil’s circus, these gritty streets
Where the syringes drop and the trash flows,
Where the mothers turn in their last food stamps
At discounted prices, three to one,
For a dime rock, a nickel bag, a trip to forgetfulness
While the babies cling to their stained skirts,
Sucking on their dirty thumbs to keep hunger
At bay, because momma’s gotta have that high.
These are the grotesque caricatures
Of life in this devil’s playground,
Bullet casings, and discarded condoms
Sprinkled amidst the diamond sparkles
Of broken auto glass on the side of the road
Where the winos get rolled in their sleep
One desperate fool stealing pocket change
From another after the big money
From the beginning of the month
Has been spent to chase the demons
That torment them in their wakefulness.
The devil’s circus where the poor juggle
All their needs and have to choose between
Meat for dinner or keeping the lights on,
Between bus fare to keep tat McJob
And school lunch money for the kids
Who will also need feeding next week.
In this circus, the Man is the lion tamer
Dispensing his powders at
Milk out of the baby’s mouth prices
To keep the beasts in their place, tame
And the Ringmaster of them all is the official on the take,
Swinging his weight around and breaking the heads
Of those who can’t kick in to his retirement fund,
His vacation home or his mistress’ upkeep.
Here they all are Clowns, shedding fake tears
In the hopes of getting pity from their audience.
Here the only admission to the side-show is to be poor
And to be less than the owners of the big tent.
Here death waits around the corner and you can die
With a big smile on your face before you are ready,
Or you can die with a bullet hole in your head
But you sure can’t die as people were meant to.
– Olga Candelario