May | 31 | Roundabout Redemption

KEYWORD | CHANGE

Roundabout Redemption

PREAMBLE

Then the Lord appeared to Solomon by night, and said to him: "I have heard your prayer, and have chosen this place for Myself as a house of sacrifice.  When I shut up heaven and there is no rain, or command the locusts to devour the land, or send pestilence among My people,  if My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.

2 Chronicles 7:12-14 NKJV

Explanation | Repentance is yet another word that has been excised from our vocabulary. Sin, judgement, hell, all like a misjudged malignant melanoma on the bare uncovered skin of humanity, have been cut out. Consequently, we have no need of a Saviour, no need of forgiveness, yes, we have no need to worry. There is no god, save the one of our own making and guess what, she’s quite nice and most accommodating. 

The God of the Bible, however, is a very different case entirely. Once you start messing in His business, He tends to step out the boardroom of heaven and come and do some restructuring. Lots of layoffs are a coming and His security will not so kindly escort you from His premises. Shape up people of He will ship you out!

Repentance is preceded by a knowledge of our sin and  our offence against God which leads to a deep conviction of its wrongness and our inability to replace the wrongness with rightness. Repentance is turning from our sin, back to God.

PERFORMANCE TIPS

I wonder if this poem is waiting for a tune? The first four lines of the obvious chorus run increasingly fast in the saying and then halt up suddenly for the last two lines.

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Words that are found in the mouths of fools

Our hearts and our lips have spoken

And now all of our boasted big battlements

They lay waste, they lay burned, they lay broken

For our daughter’s are lost and our sons are bound

Our faces are white and our pants are browned

‘Cause our Kings are ashamed whilst the fools are crowned

And there’s no way on earth to redeem this lost ground

Unless You come and turn things around, O Lord

Unless You come and turn things around

We’ve salted the babies that lay in the womb

We’ve sucked out their limbs from their mooring

We’ve labeled the murder with ‘freedom of choice’

And sent the kite of our arrogance soaring

For our daughter’s are lost and our sons are bound

Our faces are white and our pants are browned

‘Cause our Kings are ashamed whilst the fools are crowned

And there’s no way on earth to redeem this lost ground

Unless You come and turn things around, O Lord

Unless You come and turn things around

We’ve regenderneered, re-assigned and resigned

We’ve destructed the family; Your order

We’ve sailed cross our seas of indulgence and greed

And camped on the sands of hells border

For our daughter’s are lost and our sons are bound

Our faces are white and our pants are browned

‘Cause our Kings are ashamed whilst the fools are crowned

And there’s no way on earth to redeem this lost ground

Unless You come and turn things around, O Lord

Unless You come and turn things around

You have called us to halt, put a bolt on the door

Of our reckless hedonistic abandon

You’ve told us to humble ourselves ‘neath your hand

That we might yet find some safe ground to stand on

For our daughter’s are lost and our sons are bound

Our faces are white and our pants are browned

‘Cause our Kings are ashamed whilst the fools are crowned

And there’s no way on earth to redeem this lost ground

Unless You come and turn things around, O Lord

Unless You come and turn things around

Will you answer our prayers with the fullness of Yes!

Not a might, or a wait, or a token

That the devil’s mean grip would be loosened at last

Let his thumbs and his fingers be broken

So instead of a penny we’ve gotten a pound

And our sons are set free and our daughters are found

Ans as heirs we’re exalted, and the demons are downed

‘Cause the presence of God would our camp all surround

If You came and turned things around, O Lord

If You came and turned things around

Yes, we can turn everything around, I say

If we turn all ourselves around

© 2012 Victor Robert Farrell

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May | 30 | Speak On, Samaritan

KEYWORD | LIFE

 Speak On, Samaritan

PREAMBLE :-

 Then Jesus answered and said: "A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, who stripped him of his clothing, wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a certain priest came down that road. And when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. Likewise a Levite, when he arrived at the place, came and looked, and passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was. And when he saw him, he had compassion. So he went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; and he set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him.

Luke 10:30-34 NKJV

Explanation | The damage of the journey can leave one's soul so callously hard, so cynically cauterized of any real spiritual sensientivity( no, that's not a spelling mistake. Think on)  that the footsteps of God walking in Your garden, seemed to have vanished long ago. 

I have found that exposure to a fire that leads to impartation of life is the only thing to jump start the dead batteries of such a soul. God has His RAC men, his selfless and saluting servants who are often  wheeled out of the garage on cold dead mornings to go and home start such dead hearts. Amazingly, their secret of impartation is that they do not know that they are providing such a service! They are just perky with with the expectation of passionate love, and to the hungry sould, as welcoming as a Labrador puppy and thrice as nice.

So. this piece is dedicated to the unaware Samaritans of the soul who have ministered to me, and if you too are a dead battery in God, I pray will be sent to minister to you as well. 

PERFORMANCE TIPS: 

I am not sure this is a performance piece. However, it might be a nice but of verse, to send to someone who has re-started your cold dead battery. 

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In you

I see Him.

The echoe of His voice 

Long lost to me

I hear in thee.

Speak on.

Yes, In your eyes

I see the dancing light

That light of men

Long dimmed in the den

Of my darkness. So then,

My dear Samaritan, shine on, shine on.

Embrace me, will you please, for in your arms

I might feel the Gathering Healer

That Lover of lepers

The Head Chef of love that peppers

My tasteless soul 

That fears not the puss filled hole.

Oh, your fragrance smells of hope to me

Why else would I be exposed to you?

You smell of delivernce

You are  seductive 

Enticing, inviting, open, and without your knowing 

You are become to me, my word in season fitly spoken.

Yes, you have become my hope of resurrection

Of warm summers coming

Of death boxed and put beneath the clod

Carrier of the long absent but now very present God

Holder new life's expect-ay-shee-yon

So dear Samaritan, pleas, oh please
 Speak on.

 © 2012 Victor Robert Farrell

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May | 06 | No MoreTo The Wailing Wall

KEY WORD | BELIEVE

 No MoreTo The Wailing Wall 

PREAMBLE :-

Luke 15:4

"What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he loses one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost until he finds it? NKJV

Explanation | “If Christians desire to grow thorns to stuff their sleepless pillows, then let them dote upon their dear ones.” C.H. Spurgeon

The Bible portrays the prodigal as sheep amongst the pigs. Deliberately lost, deliberately degraded. The prodigal is an ‘out of place’ son. One thing we can be sure of and that is that Christ knows His sheep, and in the end, not one is lost. If our prodigal sheep remain in the swill, then they were never His sheep. Ever. In addition, there is nothing you can do about that. 

Meanwhile, keep praying, keep hoping, keep believing, and keep your eyes on the horizon. For who knows! I mean, really, remember that it is often so very late in the day, when the prodigal returns.

Meanwhile then, stop fretting. Leave it.

PERFORMANCE TIPS: 

1^st Stanza 2^nd line, 4th Stanza 3^rd line and 5^th Stanza 3^rd line are awkward in the tongue and all need practice before performance. The single line of ‘change’ between stanzas 3 & 4, can be said with some disdain, with sadness or some surprise. Take your pick.

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I dote upon my dear ones

But they dote not upon me

Plough worried furrows in my brow and

Pay the devils daily fee

I stuff my sleepless pillow

With the thorns of great distress

Picking bits of puked-up hope

From the vomit of this mess

I push back my graying hairline

With the lost power of King Canute

And take my friend of happiness

And beat him like a brute

And my loved ones smirked and carried on

So, I’ve stopped doting on my dear ones

Now wouldn’t dote them, wouldn’t dare

Instead, I gently stroke the failing follicles

Of my now well receded hair

Yes, I’ve stopped doting on my dear ones and

I’ve started daring to believe

That the Great Good God of heaven can change

Rebels such as these

So,  I’ve took my expectations and

Wailing, stuffed them in the tree

Believing God will get the pig-sty sons

Just like He done got me

 © 2012 Victor Robert Farrell

May | 04 | Nox Bellum

BATTLE

Nox Bellum[1]

PREAMBLE :

Then Jacob said to Simeon and Levi,"You have troubled me by making me obnoxious among the inhabitants of the land, among the Canaanites and the Perizzites; and since I am few in number, they will gather themselves together against me and kill me. I shall be destroyed, my household and I."Gen 34:30 NKJV

Explanation | Sometimes you cannot see the veil set deadly against you. Sometimes you just hear it. Welcome to the valley of desolation. On our journey to the great city, we shall pass through here. Many times. It is a terrible place. 

PERFORMANCE TIPS: 

Imagine, you are crawling through a minefield, a Stelleto commando knife being the only tool to feel the discs of death beneath the earth. Get on your hands and knees to perform this piece. Crawl. Stand up when the way ahead ‘seems almost found.’ There is no happy ending to this piece. The valley of Desolation is a long and ever narrowing place of increasing darkness. One day, you will immediately pass through a narrow place into the light. Like a squeezed pea from a ripe green pod. This piece, ends long before the squeezing and you might want to sway a little in fainting and seasick deperation towards the end of the piece.

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It’s just sounds

So I keep feeling in the dark

Feel my way

On my hands and on my knees

Inch by tortuous

Tortoise like inch

Stabbing the ground

Stubbing the edges of unexploded death

The way ahead seems somehow found

Or is it?

There is no light you see

Just sounds

Sometimes, of a padded and guttural growling

A prowling

Lion roaring

The Senaccherib calling and taunting

Of my hated name

Just Sounds

Of a big cat scratching trees and lickin it’s lips

In the mumbled and muffled

Deep breathed long planted and

Long silent arboretum

Where even the living wood

Far to fearful to scream out their ripped and naked agonies

Keep their leave quivering stillness

Lest they too be

Both deflowered and devoured

Just sounds fall upon me now

Sometimes, of echoing laughter

Of weeping in the corner

Of whispering malevolence

Of Secret Knowledge, unshared

“We know. The fool, the blind fool. He Will not see”

Whispered voices

Shaping the earth beneath me, moving

The ground like a soft and swaying

Sea on a summers afternoon and

Deceitfully seeking my devouring

Undulating beneath my trembling and sometimes rising feet

Quietly, carefully, purposefully

Trying to make me fall again to my knees and

Beg for some small distance covered

In humbled friction burned

Pumping hearted

Patella pained agony

In open and covenantal death

With the darkness

It seems now

That even the earth itself moves gleefully against me

© 2012 Victor Robert Farrell

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[1] Latin. Two Nouns. Night War.