Respite for the Remnant

Encouragement in such a time as this

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  • Something Seductive This Way Comes

    Have you noticed that it’s not always something wicked that’s coming this way by way of false doctrines and teachings infesting the Church, rather, just some new and more seductive show-and-shine iterations of the same old manipulations –that is, when you look behind the stained glass as many are doing today.

    As my mother would say, “It’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.”

    But, whether by stick or by (honey-glazed) carrot the sheep are compelled or lured away from the sheep gate and into the wilderness, each new iteration of what my father used to call “Church of What’s Happening Now” involves some apparently leftover works, you might say, or new experiences and Bible translations (that may not be bona fide translations) that we have to participate in or study in order to join the current Spiritual In-Crowd, thus rendering Jesus’ declaration “It is finished” a lie.

    Whoa! Kind of harsh?

    But what about…

    “It Is Finished”

    I was born into the single most complex, compound religious system, one of the oldest, richest, most populous, politically-enmeshed–and powerful–of all such systems and there I was spiritually marinated for the first 23 years of my life before receiving Christ alone as both Savior and Lord. I am still unpacking what I call one of Jesus’ most powerful “one-liners”.

    “It is finished”–my flagship verse–still brings me to kneel at the foot of the cross, pause the kindergarten of my mind for a few minutes; it compels me to lean in further to what exactly Jesus bled out for, as in my salvation, a once, and for all time, sacrifice, sans anything else needful.

    Yours as well, if you so choose.

    Most of all, however, this one-liner has increased my trust in, and my love for, God.

    Those words also prompt me to think moments beyond the torturous last hours of Jesus’ sacrifice for us when His executioners, having finished flogging, piercing and impaling Him on the rough beams–the last of His blood trickling down to join the rest already gelling on the ground–heard Him say: “It is finished,” His purpose and mission complete.

    And then, only then, did Jesus commend His soul to the Father.

    But there was a lot more that happened just then, a powerful witness to Who He really was, events and phenomena we don’t often read or hear about.

    This is St. Matthew’s account:

    50 And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice, and yielded up His spirit.

    51 Then, behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth quaked, and the rocks were split, 52 and the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised; 53 and coming out of the graves after His resurrection, they went into the holy city and appeared to many.

    54 So when the centurion and those with him, who were guarding Jesus, saw the earthquake and the things that had happened, they feared greatly, saying, “Truly this was the Son of God!” (chapter 27)

    Ya think?

    My lively imagination and modern vernacular would add: “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”–of real prophecy, promise, and power.   

    Shown and Told

    It has been said that hundreds of specific prophecies in the Old Testament regarding Jesus’ earthly ministry were fulfilled by the events of His life. Here is one summary:  How many prophecies did Jesus fulfill?

    But apparently, according to the false spiritual headliners of today and some from my yester-year, it still wasn’t enough. There are added fees, sur-charges, other hidden costs for their goods. And the curious, hungry–broken–gather around. Hoping…

    “Bring your troubled minds, your hungry souls, your infirm bodies to us,” they bark, “and we can give you some miracles and wonders better than even Jesus did, not to mention brand new prophecies and revelations!”

    They determine, decree (and declare) their own brand of newer, better–the best yet to come–phenomena, voices a-quiver, often staged in front of Marshall stacks blaring emotion-grabbing music laced with their brand of theology… (the better to entice the young, notes one of the new Pied Pipers).

    But it’s just new merchandise from an ancient line first marketed in the Garden of good and evil.

    Me, I had my fill of trinkets and idols in my old days, that, over time, have joined, one by one, that old Ozymandias broken and sinking in the sand.  

    A few reminders occasionally surface from my mind and psyche, like leftover spiritual shrapnel, but I can freely, now, lay them at that cross, too—where Jesus paid my price of admittance to eternal redemption.

    Selah.

    There, at the foot of the cross, I cannot hear Him say it enough:

    IT.

    IS.

    FINISHED.

    I invite you to pause for a while there, too, when the cacophony of little gods with their big lies wait just outside the gate with their seductive wares—and price lists–and/or worrisome if not fearsome tales of the conseqences if you deny or delay them…

    I invite you instead to hear Jesus’ voice.

    Ponder His words.

    He is the only Way, Truth, and Life, His body the only–and priceless–coin of our admission to the everlasting realm.

    Paid in full.

    I am still in awe of this.

    …..

    Read more about Jesus’ life and ministry in the accounting of His life in the Bible.  

    For those yet to come into His welcoming–and safe–pasture, consider this presentation.

  • Water, Spirit, Grace

    (From the archives, August, 2012)

    I once heard it said that the last thing a fish knows is water.

    It flips and rolls in its liquid universe unaware of its dependence on sea, lake, or river until it surfaces to a world of too much oxygen, takes its last little fish gasp, so to speak, and expires. We can only imagine its final awareness narrowing to panic, its gills twitching in terror.

    Man shares something with that water-deprived fish: we sometimes don’t realize what we have until it’s gone, or nearly gone, or until we get too near some fatal awareness of our own…

    What H2o is to a fish, God’s Word is to man’s spiritual life. St. Paul wrote about it this way: “Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word” (Ephesians 5:25-26, KJV).

    Unlike sea, lake, or river, however, the water Christ gives nourishes and sustains within; His Word purifies and powers the spirit.

    Jesus put it this way: “(Whosoever) drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life” (John 4:14).

    How to get this water? “If any man thirst,” (Jesus, again) “let him come to me, and drink. He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water” (7:37-38). John adds, “But this spake he of the Spirit which they that believe on him should receive” (39).

    The water of God’s Word, cleansed at Calvary, flows from the font of grace through the pens of prophets and apostles to thirsting hearts. And, like the Word Made Flesh, the Word scripted remains the same “yesterday, today, and forever.”

    It’s easy to take the power and necessity of God’s Word for granted, though, until, brought to the surface of some crisis whether by choice or by chance, we panic like that ill-fated fish.  We wonder where is God? How will I survive? Fortunately, He is near.

    And when we do return to His Word, we realize again the life-renewing power of parable, epistle, and psalm; the truth coursing deep: “Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you” (James 4:8).

    Cleanse, refresh, and renew yourself in the Word of God today. I’ll be there, too.

  • Poetry: Three in the Back Row

    (A literature instructor whines a little as the semester wanes.)

    Three in the Back Row

    He storms in and out

    Wearing his trauma

    Like a straightjacket.

    She sits solid, stolid

    On her grande cynic’s throne.

    Another one

    Plugs in

    Tunes out

    Rolls over

    Waiting

    For the channel

    To change.

    Meanwhile,

    Life  

    Pulses on,

    A kaleidoscope of

    Colorsoundscents…

    Like the finale of

    July 4th fireworks

    –Even the two-year-old

    On Daddy’s shoulders

    Squeals with delight

    Viewing a peacock! in the

    Night sky–

    Carpe Diem!

    I shout

    Into the stone silence

    Trying hard to resist

    Lecturing in 25 words or less,

    One verse at a time,

    To the window shades;

    To remove one more delicacy

    From the silver platter

    Overflowing with writers,

    Musicians, artists, craftsmen

    Who found an escape

    From their own back rows

    That could maybe help these three, too.

    Well,

    Maybe next year.

    All things are possible.

    Right?

    What’s even worse, though:

    I often see my old self

    There, too.

    Back in the day,

    And now

    Trying to teach

    The most important lesson–

    All semesters wane

    Faster than we think.

    Seize the day, students;

    Seize the day, teacher.

  • On Everyday Valentines

    Right?

    Why save chocolate and roses and cards for just February 14th?

    So many beautiful small things can trigger a smile, a tear, a moment of the kind of soft relief that interrupts the gloom–if just in that moment.

    Better yet, beautiful small things might get the eyeballs glued to some small electronic gadget to look up and around for a minute (miracle of miracles).

    But no time for cynicism here, just to offer this, today from my cache of posts from 2013 that I still think about up here in 2026.

    I hope you may be encouraged–maybe even inspired–by the experience and thoughts offered here, too.

    From the Archives: “On Valentines and Kindness,” 2013

    The story a local resident told in his letter to the editor went something like this:

    I went to the window of my office to stretch a bit and watch the goings-on in the street below. It was cold outside. A disheveled looking guy sitting on the curb, a homeless man I’d seen before, sat with his arms wrapped around himself to get some warmth, I suppose.

    As I was watching, a well-dressed man with an attaché case stopped by. He sat down on the curb next to the homeless guy and talked for a few minutes. Before he got up and went on his way, he took off his gloves and gave them to the other.  

    Neither man knew, of course, I witnessed this simple act of kindness. It kind of restored my faith in mankind, you know?

    On this Valentine’s Day when, with a little help from Hallmark, the flower shops, and the candy stores we celebrate love, I am reminded of the kind of love that gilts the gold, ices the cake—restores the heart.

    It’s not necessarily bright, shiny, brave, or beautiful as we sometimes imagine love to be. It resembles more a few minutes’ chat in a lonesome place; the warmth of compassion, of a sudden, on a cold curb. The best of who we can be offered to someone else with or without a return.

    Here are some other thoughts on this, I believe, most potent form of love:

    “There is nothing so rewarding as to make people realize that they are worthwhile in this world.” (Bob Anderson)

    “Nothing,” wrote Tolstoy, “can make our life, or the lives of other people, more beautiful than perpetual kindness.”

    “Sometimes it’s easy to lose faith in people. And sometimes one act of kindness is all it takes to give you hope again.” (Randa Abdel-Fattah)

    And this little gem:

    “Life is mostly froth and bubble,

    Two things stand like stone.

    Kindness in another’s trouble,

    Courage in your own.” (Adam Gordon)

    Take heart. Give heart. Happy Valentine’s Day.

    .

  • Poetry: In a Dark, Dreary (Colorless) World…Part 2

    Planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish… they will still bear fruit in old age. (Psalm 92:13-14)

    Note: Believe it or not, this is part 2. Part 1 was a humorous representation of what has become of art and architecture, music, fashion, and humanity in general in our darkening world today, but here is what was really on my heart for you in a more serious tone–but of blessed hope.

    Have you noticed

    How the sowers and reapers of evil,

    Tend to first strip the landscape,

    Then the mind,

    Then the spirit, if possible?

    Have you noticed

    How they heap the ground

    With the debris of civilization

    Scattered among broken lives

    And ill will?

    No more of love, joy,

    Peace, patience, goodness,

    Mercy, kindness, gentleness, and

    Self-control in their acres, where

    Wind whistles through

    Dead men’s bones.

    So we must tend the beautiful things,

    Even in a world caged

    In big black boxy buildings

    Furnished in brutalism,

    Moth and rust.

    Where gashed high-rises

    Block milky suns,

    Gilt degrades to grunge,

    Diamonds, to pin-pricks of light

    Through shattered glass.

    Music becomes a clash

    Of pitch and tone,

    Lullabies turn into requiems.

    Wars and rumors of wars

    Smeer color-splashed vistas

    In a slurry

    of blood and ash.

    Evil says, demoralize the people,

    Strip their eyes of color,

    Mute their ears to laughter,

    Symphonies and hope.

    Twist their minds to

    The seedy side of the street,

    All the better to deploy

    Chaos, fear—and despair—

    If It could.

    So to tending

    The beautiful things:

    Plowing resistance,

    Planting truth,

    Watering perseverance–

    To yield abundant harvest

    In the fullness of time.

    That’s the plan,

    Has been, is, will be.

    And savor this:

    Even a humble plot can

    Still yield fruit that nurtures,

    Salves and saves–and

    Produce a still, small voice

    As loud as

    A brass trumpet.

    And so, a call

    To tending the beautiful things

    Until the angels come

    To gather the golden wheat.

    That’s the other plan.

    Was, is, and will be.

    Carry on, brother and sisters.

    31 …they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31)

  • In a Dark, Dreary (Colorless) World, Look Up…. (part 1)

    From the archives, originally posted on 3/8/24

    Phyllis Beveridge Nissila

    Have You Noticed?

    Have you noticed, too, how a lot of ads, these days, feature dark, dreary colors? New paint colors for interiors and exteriors, for example, have gone from soothing grays and peaceful aquamarines to ashy charcoal and funereal black.

    For a different kind of ad, this one pale in color, a pharma company is selling pills and potions for some dread disease featuring grossly-magnified wormy parasites that suddenly pop up and slither their way across part of an article you are engrossed in, but now you’re just grossed out.

    Still other offensive pop-up “health” ads feature anatomically correct images of, well, what most people prefer to view in a doctor’s office or the privacy of their own bathrooms.

    Food ads–whether the food is good for you or not–are often smeared with shapes and colors looking like the contents of a petri dish gone bad or THAT leftover now stuck to the back of the fridge, the only color emanating from it a thick layer of faded bacterial fuzz smothering the top of some now-unrecognizeable old casserole, or something,  if you even stop to investigate before tossing both leftover and maybe your lunch, too (so that’s where that smell came from…).

    And one more example, this from the fashion industry, the very ad that assaulted my eyes the other day and prompted both a grimace and this post, and a brief look-back at fashion that used to actually be fashionable.

    Certain lines of contemporary haute couture are not necessarily, as the term has always suggested, “the creation of exclusive custom-fitted high-end fashion design” (source) although they still cost high-end bucks.

    The fashion line I still can’t get out of my mind’s eye, a torn, tattered uneven line, looked more like discards gathering mold and moths shoved in the back of the costume warehouse 0f the old post-apocalyptic flick Water World. The colors seemed shoveled up from a barnyard palette, if you get my drift, the models looking as depressed as their “dresses” and expressions…

    Or is it just me re all this?

    I understand that gone are the days of my youth when the mothers, even from lower income brackets with a pile of kids to care for like my mother, took pains with their grooming, gowns, and accessories, hats and gloves a must even for department store forays, dressed in those ubiquitous, colorful, freshly-ironed shirt-waist dresses and, alternately, flowery maternity tops and matching expando-waist skirts.

    The sixties’ garb is long gone as well, splashed and splattered as it was with bright colors and bold designs. A lot of paisley, too, for some reason.

    Then along came the blousy, “back to nature” collections of the seventies’ in soft, subtle earth tones, followed by the stern emergence of “power suits” in the eighties, their substantively padded shoulders helping Successful Women wedge their way to the top floor executive offices…

    Gone also are (my favorite)  the feminine, pastel-rich hues of the eighties when I was raising my two daughters (although I am sure the extra-strength hair spray needed to secure–come rain, sleet, or snow–the expansively curled and coiffed hair styles to go with, has by now petrified more than a few curled hair strands that are plastered, still, in the corners of abandoned powder rooms everywhere).

    Even the nineties grunge at least had some shape and style to it, the tears and zippers suggested symmetry, the messages on pins stuck to the lapels of black leather jackets (or printed on the T-shirts beneath) were spelled correctly, as compared with the current (Water World) collection featuring, as far as I can tell, a burlap-sack profile, accessorized by random hanging threads and undertones of despair. Coal-black eye shadow and nail polish sold separately.

    Haute couture, at least that saggy, baggy, raggy collection I viewed the other day on this very monitor, looks more like hurt couture, IMO.

    So why has the world of color gone so gloomy and doomy in many corners, it seems–and not just in its ads for paint, pharmaceuticals, food, and fashion?

    Shades of La Révolution?

    Outside of whatever the fashion designers can get away with on the runway for fun and profit, those who run away (sporting the Street Cred collection?) to join the latest clash between some haves and have-nots fighting for their rights–but typically damning yours–(clad in the noir-black hoodies and blood-red rags of some Révolution brand?) set aside such bourgeoisie fashion-bother to follow the crowd–as well as the politics du campus.

    Long live the, ah, colour revolution?

    Say what?

    Number 7: Debase Art

    If you think about it, these days certain art and craft seem more like art and crash, more like Alice Bailey’s Ten Point Plan to replace western civilization’s uplifting principles of freedom and justice to the downward twisting spiral of New Age spiritualism and One World (Totalitarian) Order (source).

    Bailey’s point number 7, and to the point, here:  “Debase art, make it run mad.” Mad and dour, I would add, if not de-faced, neglected, or destroyed completely. Her idea of debasement includes subject matter as well.

    So the assault to the senses happens not only in forgotten warehouses, medical side-bars, foul-smelling refrigerators, dulled-down furniture and walls slapped with a fresh coat of dark paint (the Hovel collection?) but also, sadly, everywhere, it seems, these days.

    I will have to leave the art and science of what a full color palette, whether in fashion, food, or anything else, does to brighten, inspire, and enhance the mind, emotions, and spirit of human beings everywhere, to artists and scientists to analyze.

    But even old-fashioned common sense suffices.

    In short, a full spectrum of color–or lack thereof–matters.

    Let’s just hope “they” don’t come out with perfumes, too, Eau de toilette taking on a whole new meaning, here.

    On the Original Palette

    Before I depress you more, however, dear reader, by continuing to describe a world fast going gloomy in a variety of senses, I want you to be refreshed, amazed, encouraged, and inspired by He Who not only engineered but also lavished His creation with every dazzling color on the original palette, every inspiring sound for the ear, soothing and sensual texture for touch, sweet scent for smell, and delicious taste for the palate.

    This is best said with His own inspired Words, brought to you by King David, as He invites weary passersby to a better scene–and experience:

    Psalms 19:1-6

    The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun, which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race. His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.

    I invite you (and me, too) to mute the increasingly fearful/gross  sights, harsh sounds, noxious smells, course textures, and sour tastes of this blighted world for a few moments, and think on the Creator of creators.

    His original art and craft.

    I mean, from where else could all of it have come alive–and thrive–from the primordial tabula rasa?

    Could mere man necklace the sparkling lights across the night sky or nurture a rose from seed to bud to bloom–and add an exquisite scent (after all, He didn’t have to add that)?

    Sit under a wide tree in the sun, if you have one or both, or some other restful place while you’re at it and think on these wonders.

    Let your spirit rise above all the muck and mire of a world spoiled and dulled with evil.

    And should the world’s gloomy landscape attempt to force your eye and heart downward, remember there is another place He has prepared for us, a realm where,

    …as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9).

    Look up…

    ~~~~~

    Why and how to enter into the world of His love and redemption from all this darkness and ugliness? Here is a good summary: ABCs of Salvation

    Today would be good.

    Ponder that, too, while ye yet may.

  • Concerning the Rich Young Ruler Who Ran Through the Crowd to Kneel at Jesus’ Feet and Ask an Important Question

    The Rich Young Ruler (Mark 10:17-22 NASB)

    17 As He was setting out on a journey, a man ran up to Him and knelt before Him, and asked Him, “Good Teacher, what shall I do so that I may inherit eternal life?” 18 But Jesus said to him, “Why do you call Me good? No one is good except God alone. 19 You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not give false testimony, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.’” 20 And he said to Him, “Teacher, I have kept all these things from my youth.” 21 Looking at him, Jesus showed love to him and said to him, “One thing you lack: go and sell all you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.” 22 But he [a]was deeply dismayed by [b]these words, and he went away grieving; for he was one who owned much property.

    There was a discussion in a recent Bible study about this fellow cited in Matthew, chapter 10.
    Some thought it might be pride that motivated him to approach Jesus that day–up close and personal—and ask, “What shall I do that I might inherit eternal life?” because, read on, he had already done so much in his eyes, at least what he knew to do according to the Law. And this came out when Jesus cited the Commandments.

    So, I think it might be inferred that he asked what else could he do, after his impressive testimony. Maybe it was something in his tone of voice?

    But it could have been pride, of course.

    Things were really working out for him.

    But a little bird tells me he wasn’t completely satisfied.

    Is That All There Is?

    Reminds me of an old pop tune: “Is That All There Is?” (Peggy Lee, 1969) only, in contrast to the lyrics of Lee’s song, the young ruler didn’t sink into a kind of nihilistic malaise fueled by ennui and alcohol. He knew, maybe even had a gut feeling, that There. Was. Something. More–after this life, even after all his good works–because…ah…what?

    So that day when the man, The Man, was in the neighborhood, His reputation of miracles, healings, and deliverances having preceded Him by that time, the rich young ruler sprinted through the crowd coming to a stop on his knees at the feet of Jesus.

    (Side note: likely raising a number of proper eyebrows, too! I mean, didn’t such a prestigious one have people running to him to pay obeisance at his feet in time of need?)

    Must have been worth it, however, to take the risk of humbling himself in the dirt in front of this itinerant, controversial teacher from Nazareth (that village of little import).  

    It was likely not a good look for Mr. Privileged, either, who had a position in halls of power, maybe a mansion on a hill, robes and regalia custom fit at a shop named something like Lord and Levi.

    One can only imagine.

    But yes, pride, maybe.

    Nevertheless, he risked stepping outside his statusphere for as long as it took for Jesus to answer.

    From My Perch

    Taking a risk, myself, by offering a different point of view, I think perhaps something in the rich young man’s multi-privileged (blessed?) life was still missing and he knew it.

    On his knees in the dirt, out of breath from the run, sweaty from the exertion, I think he would get his answer—do what he had to do (he was good at that)–however much he had to pay, pray, or power-broke.

    The sixty-five-thousand-shekel answer, however, from this Teacher Who looked at him with loving eyes, was not another etching on a stone of do’s and don’ts but a piercing of the young man’s heart where he’d always thought his impressive spiritual treasure was safely stored.

    SHOCK OF AGES

    But I mean wasn’t he following the law down to every jot and tittle (or so he thought) as per what all the other teachers taught? Ten Fool-Proof Ways to Rise to the Top?

    (Scene 3: Jesus speaks, the young man drops jaw, feels the burn, but knows that what Jesus tells him is true, alright.

    Enter: Sorrow.

    Exit: Rich Young Ruler.)

    Epilogue

    But more than anything, I wonder if this young man was there when Jesus, Miracle Worker of miracle workers, Prophet of prophets, yielded to whip, thorn, cross, and nail and then forgave His executioners.

    Earth shook, dead arose.

    Multiple shocks.

    Maybe, thought the young man, he could do something impossible, too.

    Perhaps he even approached what few of Jesus’ followers didn’t run off, to learn more about Him, ask a few more questions…

    And perhaps they told him what Jesus said after the rich young ruler left, that day, embalmed in great sorrow. You know, the part where Jesus added, “With people it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God” (v. 27).

    Later

    Well, we won’t know until eternity if he decided to put his faith in Jesus and do what He said.

    But we can know today that, we, too, may run to Jesus with our questions and He will stop for us. And listen. And answer.

    Will we be shocked, too, by what He says? Maybe sometimes.

    Comforted? Corrected? Encouraged?—All of the above in the fullness of time at His feet, asking, seeking, studying.

    Saved?—eternally, by trusting Him–not the coins of our mortality destined to moth and rust.

    And I imagine those loving eyes are gazing down on us, too, this very hour, whatever our Important Question is.

    For starters, I think He might say,

    28 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

    29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

    30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30, KJV)

    ~~~~

    If you, too, have been wondering how you can “inherit eternal life,” consider: Salvation ABC’s

    Spoiler alert (but in a good way): Jesus already did the do’s. Back then. On that tree. For the young man, you, and me…

  • Little Did They Know…Good Friday

  • Poetry: For the Workers Late in the Field*

    For The Workers Late in the Field

    Do not forsake your furrows,

    for wheat is nigh to mills,

    tares are fruitless still,

    and merchants wait their tills.

    Do not abandon harvest,

    though sky is bruised with storm,

    though winds sweep up the branches,

    and rain in torrents forms.

    Don’t fret to hear the mockingbird,

    discourager or cad,

    or noisome howling spirits,

    your pain just makes them glad.

    But know the night is close,

    the owner, riding fast

    to see your face at twilight

    and gather in at last.

    *Original posting here: for-the-workers-late-in-the-fields-1.pdf Revised here. I may be inspired to feature other poems from this collection, to likely also edit, in my ongoing efforts to be some kind of poet. Be merciful.

  • On Pearls and Swine: What Jesus Said

    Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you. (Matthew 7:6, KJV)

    Encouragement is like a two-sided coin. On one side it reads “DO,” on the other side, “Don’t”. One side says “Yes!”; the other, “No!”

    Rude or Righteous?

    At surface glance, what Jesus said in the verse above seems rather harsh, yet, like that two-sided coin, a loving God looking out for our welfare prompts us both ways,

    But how do we know if Jesus’ explanation–and warning–is rude or .righteous?

    As with all Biblical examination, context is key.

    What the Bereans Did

    The Bereans were a group of early truth seekers commended for their practice of listening and reading closely to make sure what was being taught by Jesus’ first disciples was true. As recorded in Acts chapter 17:

    The brothers immediately sent Paul and Silas away by night to Berea, and when they arrived they went into the Jewish synagogue. Now these Jews were more noble than those in Thessalonica; they received the word with all eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so. Many of them therefore believed, with not a few Greek women of high standing as well as men. (v, 11-12)

    Looking At Both Sides Now, and Discernment

    .I believe the context-rich explanation in the video presentation below covers both sides of the encouragement coin while also providing some biblical perspective regarding whether or not we are to always engage in every conversation, argument, or debate with someone who seems intent only on pushing back on our belief in Jesus Christ–worse, he or she projects hostility.

    Because, in my view, discernment will prove increasingly valuable in a world growing arguably more anti-Christian by the day.

    So the question becomes: do we remain at risk (or at ministry) or, “shake the dust off our feet and move on?

    The presentation also, in my view, presents the unifying love of a Heavenly Father who expresses His patience and compassion toward us by both showing us the Way, Truth, and Life path, you know, that narrow one, and how to remain on it in spite of rabbit trails and hostile territory.

    For He also loves those who push back (with whom we may have a shortened relationship now) but who, in due time, may also choose the right path.

    Of great encouragement just now, though, is that, in the frustration and heartache this situation might prove for one or more of us today, perhaps our response may just be one seed of truth planted in the other’s mind and/or heart, or in another analogy, a few drops of water on a parched seedling wedged in some crack in a rock (see Matthew 13: 3-9).

    Only God knows.

    And at some future point, He may use our seemingly fruitless efforts now for His redemptive purpose then.

    But see what you discern regarding the presentation, below.

    Note: my choice of this video does not necessarily imply that I agree with other teachings from this ministry outreach..

    Citation: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCOuLnMY-ijC2Mg8SlU-f88Q