Finding Freedom…stop the madness!

What are you 
                            Enslaved to?

ImageWhat holds 
You
Captive? 

 

So many victims…
                                          so many chains.

Enslaved to the things we own…
                                                  or is it the things which own us?

 

 

Image what is it that is clasped to your life
                                                                   threatening to drown you?   Image

 

How the pressure builds and builds
                                                     and
                                                          builds.

What holds us back, keeps us chained
refrained and sometimes
 Insane? 

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Wouldn’t you rather be 
set free? 

To find relief.
                    from the grief, 
                                        the chaos
                                                      this burden?  

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I don’t want to lug this anymore…
To push and pull 
and never improve this lot…

 

Why would we EVER
be satisfied with this? 
When there is real Peace
                       real Hope
                       real Life
                       real Freedom Image …

BUT…
The burning question is…
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Why do we still live like we are still enslaved

                                                 still imprisoned
                                                 still chained…?  

 

Something to ponder today…and find freedom, live freedom, be freedom for others still blind and chained.  

                  

Perspectives Day 5.2 “Poetry” – Featuring Marlene Chase (Lt. Colonel) “A Tale of two Fathers”

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A Tale of Two Fathers

“Then God said, ‘Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love…” (Gen. 22:2)

 

Two fathers–one of the earth,

the other of the spheres.

Each with patriarchal love

bearing the earth’s inconsolable secret

climb the rugged mountain

leading the child of innocence.

Two righteous hearts aggrieved,

two hearts torn by love.

One in obedience raises the knife;

the other halts it with a cry,

“Not your son, but Mine shall die,

Not on Moriah but Calvary’s hill.”

The two descend the mountain,

arms entwined, souls on fire,

bearing their burden of love

for a world of sons.

By Marlene Chase.

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My Rescue (a poem or sorts)

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I cried out “my foot is slipping”
as I clung horrified to the rock.
Deep below my fall would kill
jagged and deadly…deep below.

In panic and pain strength, it waned
I knew I could not go on.
And just when it seemed I would fall
and my body, broken would fail
His hand reached me at last.

Within His grasp, my breath I gasped
My life had faced death’s cold stare
Yet there He stood, Jesus my Lord
and I knew that I was saved!

From death’s fearful grave
to life – rays of light warm my soul.
For He walks beside me all this way
and I know I have been gloriously saved!  

Prayer for Intimacy (Poem & Prayer)

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Lord, you know how distracted I can be.
How I can hide my heart from you.
Break down these walls in which I hide.
Make me vulnerable and pliable to You.
I do not desire a divided heart…
and yet I often find myself there.
I thirst for You, Dear Lord;
I long for Your holy presence.
Create in me this clean heart
so that I can love and serve You sincerely, 
clearly…
articulated 
authentic and pure…
complete…and whole.
Lord you know how distracted I can be…
become my full focus…
become my everything…
Consume my heart and mind,
make me wholly Yours.  

-Amen.  

A Blessing and Bane (A poem)

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this slurping, soupy arrangement 
stays my amused satisfaction.
cars skidding and skirting
orbiting each other
a cacophony of incompetent
unorganized Ice Skaters.
It spills out, splashes down
drowning sashes of sorrow
in the middle of my selfish parade…
after all this circus act
cut from blistering fingers
ripe with sweat and hardened calloused hands
this stampede of interruptance
has caused ME to suppress my de-testment  of 
these frosted inconvenient deposits underfoot.
I will trample them
trump their self worth into the soles of my 
black leather shoes…
Howling madly at their existence 
here on the eve of smiling spring
on the prowl
like a careful cat at the door

I store my response,
predator ready,
fist clenched and half raised
yet frozen in traction
taking aim to wandering eyes
peering back at me. 
my son, snow suited and 
prepared
joyfully standing at the ready
for me to take him out into it
and catch a glimpse of
my childhood again.

 

Dear Lord, this heart…

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2 Timothy 1:6-14 (NIV)
6 For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands.
7 For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.
8 So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord, or ashamed of me his prisoner. But join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God,
9 who has saved us and called us to a holy life–not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time,
10 but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.
11 And of this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher.
12 That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.
13 What you heard from me, keep as the pattern of sound teaching, with faith and love in Christ Jesus.
14 Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you–guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us.

 

Forgiveness and Peace

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Anger

            Bleeds

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  Red

 

Sometimes 

                                          the things

                      we 

                                                                   said

make 

 

                            jagged 

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broken 

                                              beds…

 

we  lie in them

                       the cumbersome

oozing regret.

 

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                                                                BUT

Reconciliation 

                                   is Not

NOT

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                             too far away. 

 

Make a break

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get away

                         turn your 

pride  

 

                                      into 

 

 

                                                                                           Forgiveness…

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                         clean

                                                                       the mess

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                                            confession

               regress into 

                                         peace again.  

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Maudlin Days. (A poem)

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Today I am feeling quite maudlin.
It stirs up echos in my life
mere dust clouds, wisps of faces
and places all captured here…
It is below zero outside again today
but all I can think of is how many
miles these feet have carried me
how many footprints I have stepped into
some, not quite big enough
this shadow is far from small
not tall, yet other times lagging, lumbering behind…
while other footprints that have been cast
big foot must have passed this way
and I find this shadow dwarfed and intimidated.
How many miles indeed?!  
How fragile and temporal…is there purpose? 
Sometimes it’s a Sojourner without mission or aim, 
lost out in the cold wandering around as if blind.
These are maudlin days, 
yet I sense a Sun rise just on the next horizon. 

Featuring – Harry Read (Commissioner R) “An Inward Realm” “Perspectives” Day 6

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AN INWARD REALM

There is an inward realm transcending dreams,
Below the surface of my conscious thought,
Where God can dwell, composing mighty themes
Surpassing far those themes which I have wrought.

If I but cease to struggle and to strain
And let him move the bars from round my cell,
And burst the fetters which my soul enchain
And let his touch my apprehensions quell

Then will I know the joy transcending speech,
The holiness which only Christ can give,
The faith which always seemed far past my reach:
Love’s mystery, Christ’s gift to make me live.

Lord, play your mighty music in my soul
And set me free to live in your control.

2 Corinthians 4: 14 –18
We are more mystical and practical than we imagine.

21.10.13

 

Use with permission from Commissioner Harry Read

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