A Lick and a Promise

A poem about the Greek god Dionysus was in the plans for today's post. However, I got sidetracked by a visitor, a phone call, and a facebook conversation. Thus, I am offering you nothing but a promise that it will be forthcoming (that means I'll post it soon).

My Reward

After these things the word of the LORD came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. Genesis 15:1

“Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward.” What if God had said that to you? If God were your shield, who could penetrate that? Who could ever harm you? If God were your reward, what more could you ask for? What more could you receive than the King of the Universe? What an amazing statement!

But let's look back into Abram's situation. His nephew, Lot, had been captured in a battle over a tribute dispute. Abram, hearing of his nephew's fate, set out to rescue him. Abram's rescue mission succeeded in bringing back not only his nephew, but also everyone and everything else that had been captured.

The king of Lot's country was very glad to recover his losses, and wanted to reward Abram for what he had done. In a very generous move, the king told Abram that he could have all of the material goods, and the king would just take the people.

Surprisingly, Abram refused to take anything. He told the king that he had sworn to God not to carry off even a thread or a shoelace. Why? Because he didn't want the king to say that Abram had gotten rich by taking his stuff.

That's where we find Abram. He was successful in doing what was right; he had conquered the enemy, but he was no richer. He had nothing to show for his work except that Lot was safely home.

Then God came to him in a vision. “Fear not,” He said, “I am thy shield.” Abram had been protected in battle by the power of God. He could not lose against the enemy because God was with him. God was reminding him of this fact.

But the next thing God said was even better: “and thy exceeding great reward.” Abram didn't need the spoils of war. He didn't need anything that anyone else had. Why not? Because God Himself was his reward. And not just a reward, an “exceeding great reward.” Even though Abram had not increased in material riches, he had more than he could ever have wanted in God alone.

When I face a battle in my life, it's usually a struggle to win. If my faith is in God, He shields me and helps me to be victorious. But often I wonder why I seem not to have gained anything from my victory.

It's encouraging to me to read what God said to Abram, because it helps me realize that my reward doesn't have to be something material. It doesn't have to be something I can brag about. It doesn't have to be anything this world thinks is great. After my battles with sin, self, flesh, and Satan are through, I receive a better reward, an exceeding great reward: God Himself.

A Prayer

My God!
I called Him.
Called Him
In need, in my need.
My God! I yelled.
My hands,
My feet,
My mind: these
Were of no
Value.

Unobstructed, the answer
Came to me,
Just to me.
Through the mud-soaked glass,
Not hidden by the pounding rain,
The answer
Came.

I AM
He said.
I AM, and
None else beside.
Not you, nor any other
Can cripple,
Curb,
Or block Me.

You Are,
My will accepted.
You Are,
And I
Am not.
I crawled to You,
Relented me,
Submitted me;
The sum of me
I yielded.

The Coin

This is not a poem, obviously, but is something I wrote a few years ago. I found it while looking for a poem, and thought it deserved to be shared. You're welcome.

 

Every bad thing that happens in your life is like a coin, two-sided. One side is what you see first, the circumstances that you are caught in. They look ugly. Satan is using them to trip you up and make you lose your confidence, your faith, and your love for God. You've got to flip the coin to see the other side, the beautiful side. On this side, you see that God is working in your life to bring you closer to Him. He is making you more obedient, more loving, more compassionate, and more childlike.

God and Satan work at the same time, using the exact same circumstances, but it remains your choice which side of the coin you look at.

Weeping may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning. Psalm 30:5

Nothing Left

I'm a week behind, I know. Last week, I just wasn't feeling it, you know? Although, this blog's purpose is to keep me writing even when I'm not feeling it. Eh, I suppose I have room to fail sometimes. Anyway, I do have something to post this week.

Hands against cold steel,
The ridges pressed into the bones of his palms.
Cold metal sneaked under his shirt
Into the skin of his back as he pushed against the other side.
Encircled by steely ridges, he huddled there,
Stuck tight like an embryo.
Rain torrents poured across the openings, and
Gritty water seeped into his shirt and jeans and shoes.

He could faintly see the shape of his hands,
His dirt-darkened forearms, but nothing else.
Rocks, pebbles, twigs, and unidentified objects pinged through the tunnel,
Leaving bruises where they touched his bare skin.
The wind screeched like a demon,
Trying to suck him through a straw.
He heard crashing metal, cracking wood, and the telling moan
Of the twister.

What could be happening above him, he could not know.
And yet, as the juggernaut advanced, he felt
All would be crushed under its wheels, except earth itself.
All else, his paltry house, his pick-up, the oaks and pecans
Must be scraped clean from the ground to burst like fireworks in the sky.

His eyes dribbled tears, cleared dust and mud collected there.
He blinked, and though the fading light was dim, he knew
He did not want to see, and too,
There was nothing left to look at.

This poem stems from a documentary I watched about tornadoes. A family hid in a culvert as a tornado destroyed their farm. I took away the family and replaced them with a single person because I wanted to evoke the feeling of being alone and afraid.

Deep

I don't know I'm going in too deep until I'm in too deep,

And then I panic, because there's not a lifeguard at this pool.

Blowing bubbles with my puffed cheeks, I struggle to rise to the surface,

But every thought carries weight that counteracts my buoyancy,

And I discover I cannot be careless anymore.

Now I'm in too deep, and in this purgatory

I must atone for every time I entertained the thought:

The thought that I'm still thinking – why I can never get out.

Because as I atone, I continue to sin, and as I sin, I continue to sink,

And as I sink, I know that the only way out is to drown.

The Door

She closes the door
The door is closed, the window locked
The walls are thick rough planks
She can't tear through

Now, she won't return
She has abandoned
Everything that could have delighted her
Or everything that could have brought her to desolation

She turns her face back, touching the door with her wet cheek
What has she done? She does not know
Suddenly weak, she falls down,
Crawls to the window
Peers in, willing herself to know what she relinquished

She sees through the glass gleaming rainbows and butterflies
The golden glow of a rosy, uncluttered life
A cry clogs her throat, her head tilts toward the next pane, where she is grabbed by
Another view - of dirt and squalor, a girl with gravel rubbed into her heart

And now she knows that she can never know
What lies behind the door