Sunday, November 29, 2015
Holy is your name, O Lord--
Perfect, bright and true.
In you, we have been restored.
You make dead things new.
All your ways are clean and pure--
Nothing bent; all straight,
Leading to an end that's sure--
You, Lord, won't be late.
For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first.
(1 Thessalonians 4:16 ESV)
Saturday, November 14, 2015
God of stars and moons and space,
Lord of everything I see
And of all I cannot see,
I see glory every place.
Wing of bird and morning sky,
Rocks and hills and each fresh fig,
Tiny ants and storm-clouds big,
All reflect you, Lord most high.
Lord of cactus, Lord of tree,
Lord of chickens, Lord of limes,
In whatever days or times,
Be, O God, the Lord of me.
For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.
--1 Corinthians 3:21-21 ESV
The photo reminds me of some frigid moon of a distant planet. Really, it's a rutabaga.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
The young man heard his country call
And boldly went to war
Upon a distant shore.
He saw his closest buddy fall
And saw the life, the blood,
Flow out into the mud.
He wondered if the war was right,
And sometimes he would scream
When waking from a dream...
But, still--a soldier, he must fight
And serve his country well.
In ways that seemed like hell.
The veteran is older now,
His aging hair as gray
As this November day,
And yet there burns a light somehow,
A shining in his eyes,
Each time "Old Glory" flies.
Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.”
--Luke 3:14, ESV. In this case, "him" refers to John the Baptist, not to Jesus.
This photo is ©2011 James L. Swindle. The poem by JLS is public domain, 2012.